Stories by words- short F1 stories

A collection of short stories about our favorite F1 drivers (its mostly Max tbh) centered around one word for every story.

Clip out of chapter 1:

"Max?" I didn't need to look away from the sky to know who it was.

"Charles," I said back without shifting my gaze. Not even the moon was out; I had no idea if that was because of the lights or if it was simply a moonless night. I heard him step closer and sit down beside me.

"What are you doing here?" A simple question with a not-so-simple answer. Or maybe it was a simple answer, and it was just my own brain that made either seem not simple.

"Thinking," I replied, my voice hesitant as I struggled to find the right word for what I was doing. Why was it that I could perfectly articulate myself inside my own head, but as soon as the words left my mouth, they took on a whole new meaning? I've always thought about it as a kind of translation. The meaning does not get carried across if you just translate word by word. That's why I preferred to keep quiet.

I heard a hum in response, and the sensation of eyes on me disappeared. I looked over and saw Charles staring up at the sky, just as I had been moments ago. The purple lights of the buildings were illuminating his face, creating colorful shadows under his jaw and nose. He looked divine under the light, as if he belonged to the glow itself. I felt a twinge of jealousy as I looked at his face-his skin smooth and relaxed.