❝ so go ahead and break my heart again. ❞ ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
Race is in eighteen hours. And here I am, in the hotel's gym, working out.
Fucking P3. What kind of bullshit result is that!?
I had it in the bag. Pole was right in my hand. How could I fucking lose it!? I bang my hand on the treadmill, not breaking it luckily.
I take a breather though and turn it off. My breath heavy, I step down and grab my towel from beside. I asked that no one be let it and who could say no to me? So I'm here alone.
I grab my bottle from the floor and take a seat on the press bench to relax before getting to it. I turn on my phone to see if I got any important notifications but nothing, so I open instagram.
Shouldn't have because the first post...
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Yeah, cause I needed a reminder of both her and the pole.
I just turn off my phone and put it away along with the towel and the bottle.
I lean down, ready to do some reps and forget about anything related to Maisie Mikati or Formula 1. The two things I supposedly love the most.
I grab the bar, placing both my hands carefully and precisely on it before starting my reps. Halfway through my second set, I hear the door open.
I groan and let go of the metal weights, turning my head around to see who it is.
Her back is faced to me as she closes the door. Yet, I'd recognize her by only a strand of her hair.
I swallow, closing my eyes for half a second, physically and mentally not prepared for this. I sit up, placing both my feet on the same side again as I wait for her to turn and head over.
She's not wearing sports clothes. So, she's clearly not here to work out. Wait, how did she even get in? I asked specifically not to be bothered...
As she walks closer, my heart beats faster and faster. I guess I still am working out in a sort...? I keep my lips pressed.
"Hi." She starts up, walking over until she stands before me.
I look up. "Hi." I fake the most awkward smile. She's so pretty. I know I liked her long hair better but I guess short hair makes her more serious in a way. It suits her. I start fidgeting with my fingers. "Wh... What are you doing here?"
"Actually, I'm here to see you." She tells me something I've already assumed. "Pierre told me you'd be here." She informs newly.
She doesn't continue, doesn't tell me why she's here. I don't know what to tell her. Actually, I do. I have a thousand things to tell her, I'm just not sure she wants to hear them.
