This was a request, I hope you enjoy it.
Happy reading!
A home race for my best friend, George. And he's finally in a competitive car and the Merc has improved quite a bit under George's bum. Though, this also means the home race for a lot of the other drivers and everyone is hyped. I see him talk to a mechanic outside the box I walk up to them and I mix with them. They're having a lovely little chat about the wheelguns. I feel two hands on my shoulders, making me turn around.
"Hi beautiful," says Lando, looks at me, looks at George and looks back at me.
"Hey, handsome!" I say while I go in for a hug. Lando walks me away from the Merc garage while we're talking. "Is the Mclaren ready for this weekend?"
"It has to be. I want you to cheer for me."
"Of course, I'll cheer for you, I always do."
"Even if George ends in front of me?"
"What has George have to do with this? It's as if I ask if you'd cheer harder for me if I lose against Max."
"I mean, I would. But I get your point."
"Look I cheer for everyone separately, so when you cross that finish line I will be the one to cheer the loudest." I give him a flirty smile, he kisses my cheek. "Drop me off at Ferrari would you?"
"Always the Ferraries."
"Everybody is a Ferrari fan, even you McLaren boy." I boop his nose and turn around to the Ferrari box. "Leclerc! Babes! How've you been?"
"Y/n! Chérie! I've been good, what about you?"
"I've been well, Charles, I've been well. Thanks for asking." We laugh and give the greetings kiss on the cheek. "Can I say you look absolutely dashing in red today?"
"Yes, but dashing means...?"
"Dashing basically means breathtakingly beautiful. Just not in the Christmas song."
"Dashing, dashing." He repeats after me with his lovely French accent. I give him a playful push.
"It sounds so cute how you say it."
"How's George doing?" Charles says, looking a bit behind me and then making eye contact again. I let out a frustrated groan. It's as if George is my husband and I'm big-time cheating on him, honestly. But he's just my best friend.
"Why does everybody bring him up?"
"Oh no, George just walked past and looked sad." Every single alarm bell goes off in my head with 'George' and 'sad' in one sentence. I scan the place, desperate to find George.
"He looked sad? Where did he go to?" Charles points me in the general direction George walked to. Just past the pit exit, I find him, clearly upset. Not sad necessarily, just upset and frustrated. "George, are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine," he says as his voice cracks. He clears his throat and repeats himself. "I'm fine." And it cracks again. His back tenses up, he's frustrated. I walk closer and put my hand on his back but he steps forward turns around and points his finger to me for a little before he sees it's too harsh. "You know what, fine, I'm not fine."
"What happened? Is the team babbering again?" His hands flex and there are a million expressions on his face. But anger speaks the loudest.
"You with your cute fake English words! You know that's what's wrong. You flirt with everyone, even if they have a girlfriend."
"They flirt back, it's just friendly flirting, it's meaningless."
"Then why don't you flirt with me? It's friendly flirting and we're friends right?"
"What are you on about?"
"'Hey handsome' 'I'll cheer loudest for you.' 'Oh, Charles your accent is so cute.' You're basically drooling on the floor, in the process you're making a complete fool of yourself. But making a fool of yourself with me? No. Am I not worthy enough for one single flirty comment?"
"George..."
"No, let me finish." Lucky me he said that because I'd have no clue what to say. I just got the 'say their name' thing from the movies. "Why do you flirt with all our friends, but not me. I'm your best friend and I've never, no matter how much I throw at you, I've never heard one flirt like comment pointed at me. Why is that? Why do you not flirt with me?"
"Because it'd not be meaningless. Why do you want me to flirt with me?"
"Because I like you!" He basically yells at me. He regrets the yelling, I can see that. He lowers his voice to repeat himself again. "Because I like you."
"George..." There I go again with the movie name-calling. But it's different now, I don't really want to talk. I want to run up to his jump in his arms and-
"I'm going to kiss you right now, I'm going to count to ten so you can stop me if you want. Or else I am going to kiss you," He says while walking closer to me. Just centimetres away from my lips he stops his movement and waits. Counting. "Eight. Nine-"
I don't let him finish and I kiss him.