Away We Go • 2 • Formula One

Chapter 77

     | alyssaarcher  i'll be spinning you out if you don't watch it mister

| alyssaarcher 'oh no... my tyres are cold...' and then boom you're stuck in the gravel

     | susie_wolff  i showed toto your comment and he threatened to make you clean the entire garage when the weekend is over if you do this 😂

     | lewishamilton  and if we get a double podium, he can do it all himself, including the champagne spray 🤣

an0nym0usarcher  *this comment is under review* countdown to the next article? it'll be a real tear-jerker for some 🙈🙊

***

The days following the Belgium Grand Prix weekend were painful. I felt exactly how you would expect after my high speed impact during qualifying. Dark bruises littered my knee and shoulder, with the muscles tender to even the lightest of touches. Luckily for me, I wasn't expected to travel back to the UK for work until the Friday, and so Max and I decided to spend some time visiting his mum. He was able to convince his bosses to give him some time off, too, although he was expected to leave a day earlier. I was grateful for my relationship with Sof and her kindness to let me stay with her the extra day. She was so accepting of my relationship with Max, going as far as to call me part of the family even though I wasn't engaged or married to her son.

For our final evening together, Max and I decided to cook his mum dinner whilst she was out shopping with her friends. I still had zero instincts or sense when it came to cooking and so, for the most part, I was letting Max bark his instructions at me and put up no protest when his frustrations at my lack of ability made him take over from whatever task I was doing.

"See?" he sassily pointed out as he chopped up the remainder of the onion. The few slices he had made producesd even, thin cuts of the onion, a contrast to my attempts which would make Gordon Ramsey cry in disappointment. "It's not hard, schatje."

I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile at my boyfriend and irritate him further. "Being as bad as I am is a talent. I may not be able to cut an onion, but I do know how to lead a championship."

"Oh, shut up."

"You shut up."

I bit my lips together as he looked up from the chopping board to glare at me. His piercing blue eyes bore into my hazel ones. Winding him up was just too easy and enjoyable. He refused to break the eye contact and his brow remained furrowed in annoyance, prompting me to eventually break and let out a small giggle.

Suddenly, Max hissed in pain, the knife clattering down into the wooden board as he clutched his hand to his chest. My heart dropped at the action and my smile was quickly replaced by a frown of concern. I knew the Dutch liked to swear, but the string of profanities that slipped through Max's lips were on another level. I honestly thought that knowing him for as long as I have now meant that I would know most of the Dutch ones - oh, how wrong I was.

Once out of my state of shock, I ushered Max towards the sink. With one hand on his back in support, I used the other to switch on the stream of water from the tap. He shook his head like a stubborn child when he realised what I wanted him to do.

"That's going to hurt!" he whined.

"Dude, just-" I gave him no choice, grabbing his hand before he could protest and shoving it under the tap. I was expecting the clear stream to turn red with blood, but to my surprise I couldn't see any actual cut. Max was no help when I asked him where it was and was insistent that he had chopped his finger off because I had distracted him. He was the biggest baby I knew, hissing in pain at the water. I moved his hand out of the flow just to see if I could see the cut, and I did - a few specks of blood appeared at the top of his index finger from a tiny slice. I've cut myself worse shaving.