PitBabe Cast: Imagines

NorthSonic: When He Sees Me

The Garage is my sanctuary.

I've always loved working here—surrounded by the hum of engines, the rhythmic sound of wrenches turning bolts, and the unmistakable smell of gasoline and oil. It's where I feel most alive, where I get to showcase my creativity through fashion, a blend of edgy and chic that I wear proudly. There's something about being here, in my element, that makes everything feel right.

Sure, the guys tease me about my outfits—about how I'm always dressed to the nines even when I'm elbow-deep in grease—but deep down, I know they appreciate it. I like being the one who stands out, the one who's always sharp, always different.

But of course, there's North.

North always finds a way to make a joke out of everything. He'll lean against a tool chest with that smirk of his and call me "fancy" or "overdressed." It never gets old, and I never mind. We've been friends for years, and his teasing feels like home.

The problem, though? I've been in love with him for longer than I care to admit.

North is everything I'm not—he's confident, athletic, and incredibly easy to talk to. He's one of the star racers for the X-Hunter team, and I've been his biggest fan since forever. I've seen him win races, console him when he lost, and everything in between. I know him inside out—except for one thing. The way he makes my heart beat faster every time he walks into a room.

I wish I could tell him. I wish I could say it aloud, but I've never had the courage. Our friendship is too important to risk, and honestly, I don't know if he sees me the same way. All I know is that whenever he's near, my mind goes blank, and my stomach does flips. I don't know what it is about him, but I can't stop feeling this way.

Today, as usual, North walks into the garage, his racing gear snug against his toned body, his helmet under his arm. The way he stands there, like he owns the world—man, I can't help but stare. My heart skips a beat, and I feel that flutter in my chest, the one I'm far too familiar with.

I try to focus on the engine I'm working on, but it's impossible. His presence is overwhelming, and every time he speaks, I'm reminded of the distance between us. He's my best friend, but that doesn't stop my feelings from running deeper than that.

"Hey, fancy," he teases, walking over to where I'm bent over the hood of the car. "That shirt's going to give you a cramp. You can't work on a car looking that good."

I roll my eyes, but I can't suppress the grin that follows. "I'm multitasking, North. Looking good and fixing engines—what's not to love?"

He chuckles, but I notice his gaze lingers a little longer than usual. It's almost like he's seeing something more, something behind the banter. For a second, I think he might say something—anything that will give me a clue about where we stand—but he doesn't. Instead, he changes the subject, and I'm left with the ache of wondering if he ever sees me for more than just the guy who's always making sure his car runs smoothly.

The day passes in a haze of laughter, engine revs, and idle chatter. North hangs around the garage, teasing me one moment and offering unsolicited advice the next. We fall into our usual rhythm, one that's familiar and comfortable, but I can't help but feel the weight of unsaid words pressing between us.

I start working on a new project—something a little more intricate—and North stays nearby, watching me. I can feel his eyes on me, but I try to block them out. I can't afford to get distracted. But when he speaks up, I find myself drawn into the conversation anyway.

"So, what's your inspiration for the design?" His voice is casual, but there's something about it that makes me feel like he's waiting for something more.