Singapore, 2017, Saturday.
"So you two are not gonna tell me why you were sleeping together?" Daniel asks with a huge wicked grimace on his face while stuffing his mouth full with buttered toast with eggs on them.
Both teens hadn't mentioned any of what had happened between them the night before, the cosy hug that they had shared between them and the intimate moment that they had shared in her hotelroom. The way that he had held her when she was about to fall.
Nor had they looked at each other since the moment that they had woken up, or so rudely by Daniel bargaining into her hotelroom since she had given her father a keycard incase and it seemed that Daniel had managed to convince her father to lent it to him.
Daniel had shouted for her to wale up when he found the two sleeping in the same bed, Bart had managed to find his way over Millie to sleep on the edge against her chest with Max hugging her from behind with his hand on her stomach. The way Daniel had found them was something he hadn't thought would have been possible for them to do.
Neither had looked at each other since they had jumped out of bed and Max took Bart quickly before rushing to his own hotelroom. Leaving Millie and Daniel alone in her room for her to explain what had happened between them while she didn't utter more then two syllables, consisting of get out so she could change.
Max shakes his head swiftly from side to side, the dutchman had tried to feed his son the small cut toast with Nutella. Which Bart had refused to put into his mouth, driving his father crazy before he had given up about it and pleaded with Millie to try and have his son eat something.
He's seriously doubting his skills as a first time father since yesterday night. He can't even make his son eat, or put the infant to sleep. He feels like a useless father, maybe he did make a rash decision about this. However, his gut and heart would never be able to part with the child. It's his anyways.
"Open your mouth," he watches Amaryllis instruct his son, holding a piece of toast up in the air before she moves her hand around like it's a plane. "Here comes superman!" She says, making swishing sounds when she pretends to make it move like a superhero.
His son claps his hands before making grabby hands at the food. Opening his mouth for the Nutella toast to be fed to him.
"How are you so good with him?" Max suddenly asks softly, it hurts to know that his own kid won't eat when he tells him or wants to fall asleep when he tells him it's bed time. How can the daughter of Christian Horner know how to do all of this when she's just a child herself.
She turns to look at him, that ever present look of innocence on her face that drives him crazy, mostly since it has people always belief that she's an absolute angel that can't do anything wrong and she always can get away with anything that she says. The media eats the shit she sometimes says to them or how they belief her innocent looks even though the glint in her eye tells him that she's about to drag him through the mud.
She shrugs her shoulders, innocently looking at the child who watches her intently. Almost throwing a fit when it takes her too long to feed him the next piece of chocolate toast.
"I don't know, to be honest." She says, turning to look at the child. "Here." She hands him the piece of toast. "Try making superhero noises and tell him that superman is coming." She tells him sweetly.
He doesn't know where he stands with her, one moment she wants to strangle him to death with her bare hands and the next she's doing everything she can to help him and his child. As if she has any idea how hard it is to raise a child at his age, career and lifestyle.
He swallows, he never thought he would be sitting on a chair next to a kid that he had created. Even if he were to ever have a kid, he had imagined it to be with a partner. He would have been a lot older and would have been able to prepare himself for it. Not that he would want to be with anyone ever, never long term.
