Hate You - LN

9

Lando hasn't gotten back from the track yet so I take advantage of the empty communal space in the suite room. The couch is comfortable and I kick back and turn on the TV. I left the track almost as soon as free practice two finished, opting for a cab over the team car, or worse, Lando's car. This morning was tense, and figuring out his shoulder before practice was even worse.

I don't want you touching me.

Those words shouldn't have hurt like they did.

When I got back to the hotel I had showered and changed into a comfortable pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie. I'd snatched one of the pre-made salads from the hospitality suite on the way out, so I munched on it while Grey's Anatomy played on the TV. This show was one the only medical shows I could handle because, to the best of my knowledge, it was mostly correct. Of course, some things were dramatized, but I suppose that's television.

I let myself get sucked into the show I've watched too many times and before I know it the sun is fading outside the windows. It seems to be a marathon of Grey's, so I let it run as I get up and throw out my salad container. Sitting back down on the couch I look down at my phone to see a text from Arthur.

Saluit sis, how are things going with Lando?

Not good, not miserable.

Liar. There is a pause as I watch the three dots signalling he's typing appear then disappear. Only to appear again. Char told me what he said yesterday.

It's fine Art, honestly, Char made a big deal out of nothing.

I know that's why I'm texting you. You know he can be protective Dev, but he means well.

I sigh aloud. I know. But him being upset and threatening to beat him up over one name doesn't change the fact I have to be around him all the time.

You still have your own space off track. It's not like you have to see him 24/7

Not really.

What do you mean?

Get this, the hotel is full and I have to share rooms with him this weekend.

HAHA OH MY GOD

Arthur Leclerc.

Sorry, that's just so fucking funny.

It is not.

I contemplate throwing my phone across the room.

I'm beginning to think you're cursed.

Me too. Trust me. Are you coming to Saudi?

Yup.

So I can bunk with you if this whole hotel thing happens again?

Nope.

What? Art.

Nah, I've got a girl coming with me.

Manwhore.

Slut. Well, actually I can't even call you that. You haven't gotten laid since Lando.

How the fuck do you know that?

Manwhores know sis, manwhores know.

Have I told you you're an asshole lately?

No, tell me.

I'm out. See you next weekend.

I rub my face and drop my phone, vaguely from where I dropped it I see the screen lighting up as messages from Arthur keep coming through. I ignore them.