Forever and Always | Max Verstappen *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Powerless

warning : sensitive content ahead (violence, abuse)

Present day

Emma
I stormed out of the hotel, tears streaming down my face, and for once, I didn't care who saw.

The cold rain soaked through my clothes almost instantly, but it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered.

I just walked.

I didn't know where I was going—just away.

Away from the fight, away from Max, away from whatever this mess was.

The rain blurred my vision, mixing with the tears that wouldn't stop falling.

A sharp honk snapped me out of my daze.

I turned, startled, to see Max's car slowly pulling up beside me.

The window rolled down, and there he was, leaning over the passenger seat,"Emma, get in the car," he said, his voice firm but softer than it had been in the hotel.

I didn't move. I just stood there, staring at him, rain pouring down my face.

He sighed, throwing the car into park and getting out.

The rain hit him immediately, flattening his hair and soaking his hoodie, but he didn't seem to care. He walked over to me, stopping just a foot away.

"Emma," he said, "Please. Let's go back."

I shook my head, wiping at my cheeks even though it was pointless with the rain.

"Why? So you can keep shutting me out? So we can go back to pretending everything's fine when it's not?"

He reached out, his hand gentle as he brushed the wet strands of hair from my face.

"I wasn't trying to shut you out," he said, his voice breaking. "I was trying to protect you."

"From what, Max?" I asked, my voice trembling. "From my own life? From the people I care about? How is that fair?"

"It's not," he admitted, his thumb swiping a stray tear from my cheek. "It's not fair, and it's not right. But Emma, I'm scared. Scared of what telling you will do. Scared of how it'll hurt you."

"It already hurts," I whispered.

His face crumpled for a moment before he composed himself, his hands moving to rest gently on my shoulders.

"I can't lose you," he said, "Not again. Please, just come back with me. Just... don't walk away from me."

I didn't respond.

I couldn't. I was too overwhelmed, too angry, too sad.

"Emma," he said again, his hands sliding down to take mine. "I'm begging you. Please."

I stared at him, the rain falling harder now, and for a moment, I thought about saying no.

About turning and walking away for good.

But then I saw the way his hands were shaking, the way his eyes were pleading with me.

I couldn't do it.

Without a word, I turned and walked toward the car.

He followed, quickly opening the passenger door for me before jogging back to the driver's side.

The drive back to the hotel was silent.

The sound of the rain against the windows was the only thing breaking the tension between us.