Summary: George's job is simple â knowing how to drive (well, if possible). But parking? Not his main requirement, honestly. And it shows. George is lucky, though, because this didn't make you change your favourite driver.
Author's Note: hi guysđ she's baaaaack (after a 5 months break lol) but yeah, this is my 1st george fic omg??? Monday was @sk8termikey aka my fav person's bday and I've been planning to write this fic as her gift for like MONTHS so I'm so happy to finally be able to post itđ ngl the 1st draft was written after melbs when i 100% thought george would still lead the wdc by monaco so i had to change sm stuff lmaoo but it's alright â I'm still a gr1 truther for the 2026 season no worries!! Hope y'all enjoy it<3 and once again, happy birthday serena ilyyy
F1 MASTERLISTđ
âAnd how would you like to pay?â
Usually, this question would mostly be asked at the end of a nice dinner. But right now, George Russell was definitely not in a restaurant. No, right now, George was outside in the streets of Monaco. Right now, he was faced with a police officer who had just fined him for his poor parking.
Right now, George wanted to disappear from the face of the earth.
You would think an F1 driver would be knowledgeable in the art of parking his car. Well, George usually was. But of course, you just had to catch him on the only day when he had been in a hurry. He hadnât even planned to stay there! Just a quick errand to run, and he wouldâve been leaving within the next two minutes.
While you were waiting for an answer, George internally debated about whether he should try to argue or not. He hadnât said a word since he had come back to his car and asked you what was going on.
âYou canât double-park here, sir. Youâre gonna force drivers to swerve right after they exit the corner over there.â You had pointed at the low-visibility tight curve. âThis would be even more dangerous in the case of a truck trying to avoid your badly-parked car.â
After those words, youâd kept on going about road safety and how it was even more important in a city like Monaco whose streets were on the narrow side. Youâd then asked George about his preferred method of payment, but he'd honestly long stopped listening to you. And when you realised that, you sighed before repeating your words just a bit more sternly:
âYouâre your fine, sir. How would you like to pay?â You patiently watched him, tapping your pen on your notebook.
âCan I pay now?â He wondered.
âSureâ, you replied with a nod. You wrote down on your paper that the payment was immediate, before pulling out your terminal. âGonna be card only, then, if thatâs alright.â
âSureâŚâ George mumbled. He fumbled with his wallet, eventually taking out his card.
The rest of the incident went by quickly. You handed the driver his receipt, as well as the paper summarising the reason for his fine. You were definitely telling your colleagues about this one first when youâd eventually go back to the station at the end of your workday â this wasnât everyday that you were fining an F1 driver for poor parking skills after all.
Safe to say, it wouldâve been an easy memory to forget for George â if not for the video that was currently circulating online. Posted mere minutes after youâd politely wished George a good day and he had driven off, there were already hundreds of comments and thousands of likes. Reposts were in good numbers as well, which meant that it didnât take long for the video to reach the feed of a few of Georgeâs friends.
Then, it was time for the teasing texts:
Did you try to flirt your way out of that fine?
And here I thought I was the worst at parking
I hope for you that you take corners better than parking spots
You shouldâve offered her a paddock pass instead of paying
George would never admit it to any of them, but a smile had made its way onto his face while reading the messages. He was starting to reply to Lando when Charles actually sent a second text, a third, and a fourth one â all within the next two minutes:
I do know her, though
Probably the nicest amongst the main patrol
Shame sheâs a merc fan
At the last message, George stilled. Had you known who he was earlier? He hadnât assumed because you had asked for confirmation of his identity when checking his licence plate, and George didnât want to be so self-entitled that he thought everyone in Monaco knew him.
But this changed everything. Did it, though? He wondered. It wasnât not like George was ever going to see you again â he definitely wasnât planning on parking like shit again in the near future, not purposely at least. But it certainly made him replay the conversation with you in his head a few more times than necessary. Charles said you were a Mercedes fan, though, not his fan. Perhaps you were a die-hard Lewis fan and had just not switched loyalty to Ferrari yet, or perhaps you were following family traditions where children ended up liking the same team as their parent.
Either way, George just didnât want to boost his ego for nothing. Not when he didnât know for sure that you were actually supporting him amidst the dozen of other drivers Mercedes had ever had.
For the couple months following your meeting with him, George hadnât thought of you again after that day. There had been testing, first in Barcelona, then in Bahrain. There had been the first races of the season, which George had won the first of them. And now, due to the unexpected month-long break that was the consequence of two cancelled races, George was finding himself at the Rolex Monte-Carlo Masters.
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Although he was more used to playing padel, George was still a tennis fan like plenty of other drivers. Heâd been going to more and more matches since last year, especially to watch Jannik Sinner. And thatâs how he had ended up literally sitting in the Italianâs box.
Safe to say, this was definitely an upgrade for George. And he was clearly enjoying the courtside view.
The match had been a relatively quick one â a quarter-final won by Sinner over Auger-Aliassime as it often happened between the two.
Following that match, it was then time for George to go home. And he liked how even though the tournament wasnât actually within the borders of Monaco, it was still a short way to come back there.
As he was navigating around the courts to walk towards the exit, his eyes got caught by a familiar sight.
You.
It seemed like you were involved in verifying someoneâs belongings in another setting than the normal security checks done before entering the tournament premises. Your face almost looked intimidating, and you were ordering some people around with a firm tone.
George couldnât really make out what you were saying, but he couldnât deny your authority as you looked like you owned the place. There was an aura of respect and order radiating off you, which led to George observing you for longer than necessary.
It was only when you fully turned away from where George was, that the driver finally glanced away.
He shook off the thought of you, and went back to his initial task that was leaving the tournament to go home. But the afterthought of you? Well, that one would stick a bit longer.
George had never really been the type to be so intrigued about someone so⌠normal? Compared to his lifestyle, that is, no offence. He just hoped that this sudden curiosity wouldnât last long, and that he would be able to forget about you â just like heâd done so back then after the embarrassing performance that had been his poor parking skills.
And heâd once again succeeded, until it was time for the Monaco Grand Prix.
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Most of the drivers loved the Monaco Grand Prix. Not for its racing quality, but because they were just home for the weekend. Sure, they had to actively remember that they werenât there for a break between races. But it always felt nice to sleep in their own bed at the end of the day. They all had their routines, and enjoyed walking through the paddock when it was located in such familiar places.
It was moments like this, before he was to meet the chaos that would first be media day, when George felt like he could really admire the city. The way Monaco was slowly but surely turning into a track, reminding everyone of how historical and iconic it was to still be able to race there. And there was the other side of it, like ending up walking to the paddock with other drivers. That was always fun, to George. Even if he liked his peace most of the time, he was never able to hide the way his lips curled into a smile when he would meet another driver on his way. It wasnât unusual, given that the majority of them lived close to one another, so George didnât bat an eye as he naturally fell into step with Charles.
He did bat an eye, though, when the MonĂŠgasque began talking to everyone they were walking past. Charlesâs dentist. One of his middle school friends. The cashier from the corner store. And not one, but two police officers. At that, George couldnât help teasing Charles:
âHave you befriended each one who's ever fined you for your oh-so-wonderful parking skills?â
âI donât like your tone, Russell.â But there was no real annoyance in Charlesâs tone, as he playfully rolled his eyes. âNot every single one of them had the chance of witnessing such an event. Iâm just being polite to the people protecting us, and making us feel safe.â
Despite the slight hint of sarcasm, there was still truth in Charlesâs words. He did appreciate the safety of a city such as Monaco, and was grateful for it.
However, when he felt Georgeâs eyes looking at him from his left, Charles let out a sigh before he admitted what George had thought.
âBut yes, coincidentally those two did fine me once â maybe twice each if weâre being specific.â
At that, George couldnât help the laugh that escaped his lips. This was a moment he could only enjoy. Charles Leclerc, prince of Monaco and local star, was more known by the police for his outrageous parking skills than for his actual F1 achievements.
âYou donât have any right to laugh when I can remember you being in that situation months ago.â
âIt was a unique occasion, though. Never happened again since then,â George argued. âWhereas, you wanna tell me how many times it happened to you?â
âI didnât keep countâ, Charles said with a shrug.
He was about to add something else, when his eyes met those of more people that he knew. He waved at a friend of his mother with a smile, then there was a polite nod to one of his old teachers.
It kept going on like that, until the two drivers were nearing the entrance of the paddock. They both pulled out their passes, which was almost surprising that neither of them had forgotten theirs.
âAs I was sayingâ, Charles started again, âI do not keep count of every single time I park like shit, especially when itâs the streetsâ fault.â
âBlaming the cityâs layout isnât a good look on you.â
Immediately noticing how it wasnât George who had replied, Charles turned to the feminine voice that had said those words. And thatâs when he saw you, grinning at him.
âSince when do you take care of paddock entrance?â Charles wondered. It wasnât unusual for Monaco police officers to be assigned to the safety of the perimeter surrounding the track along with the FIAâs own security, but Charles had no memory of ever seeing you there specifically. âGot demoted from watching the rich in their yachts?â
The chuckle you let out was like a warm ray of sunlight to Georgeâs ears. It had only taken him less than a millisecond to recognise you, even when you hadnât crossed his mind since heâd last seen you at the tennis tournament. Trailing behind Charles as the two of you kept talking, George couldnât help noticing the Mercedes cap on your head.
âThis is hardly being demotedâ, you teased, ânot when I actually asked for it.â
âYou asked for this?â Charles raised an eyebrow at you, gesturing around him.
âBeing in the shade, seeing all the drivers arriving, and then getting to watch the race from the starting line on Sunday? Yes, Monsieur Leclercâ â this was definitely sarcasm, George noted. âItâs way better than dying of heat while I have to reassure random millionaires that no, the gentleman here was genuinely admiring your boat and he is not planning on robbing you when you take a nap during lap fourty.â
âOkay, fair enough. Can I address the elephant in the room, now?â
You stared at Charles, tilting your head in a silent question.
âDo I have to go ask for a Ferrari cap for you? Youâre walking around with betrayal all over you.â
You snorted, taking the cap off your head with a smile.
âCourtesy of Kimi Antonelliâ, you confessed. âI couldnât help asking him for a pic, and he just gave me his hat before leaving. He was just so sweet, and even offered to sign it later â he just didnât have a marker on him earlier.â
âIâll get you a Ferrari cap signed by Lewis to replace that oneâ, Charles said with a blank face. âYou cannot be seen with thatâ, he added while pointing at the cap in your hands. Then, a grin appeared on his face as he finally remembered Georgeâs presence. âHowever, I can get you another signature if you really want a Mercedes driver. My good friend George, here, will happily give you an autograph!â
âHuh?â You and George both asked in sync, not having expected that.
On the one hand, George was definitely not about to refuse. He was always down to take pictures and sign some merch â plus, he wasnât going to say no when the fan was pretty like you. On the other hand, though, you were not ready for that. You knew what Charles was doing, and you knew that he knew exactly what he was doing.
Turning to face George, you immediately began to shut down the idea:
âItâs okay, you donât have to just because Charles said so. Itâs alrââ
âNonsenseâ, George reassured you with that polished smile of his. âIâm happy to do so, especially when itâs for a dedicated fan who also happens to protect the city I live in.â
âAnd occasionally give parking tickets?â
âThat too, yes.â Georgeâs perfectly crafted smile shifted to a softer one at the memory of your first meeting. âIâll admit I donât have a pen on me at the moment, though.â He looked around hoping to catch someone holding one, but to no success. âIâll be back momentarily, just wait.â
Oh, you wouldâve waited eternity for your favourite driver â also because it was your literal job to stand here all weekend but that was another thing. And Charles knew that. He had carefully watched your exchange with George, unable to hide his smirk.
âItâs fine, really.â You wanted to argue with George, but your words fell on deaf ears as he shook his head.
âIâll be backâ, George repeated with determination in his voice. He then left you, going through the gate with an obvious purpose in his strides.
Now, it was only you and Charles.
âCome on, donât look at me like that.â Charles laughed as his eyes caught your stern ones. âYouâll thank me later,â he told you before patting your shoulder and following the same path as George.
You watched as he soon left your line of sight, before focusing back on your task â greeting everyone passing through the security gates with a polite nod and occasionally fangirling whenever it was a driver you liked walking past you.
George hadnât come back until the end of the day. He had immediately been kidnapped by the teamâs social media admin when reaching the Mercedes hospitality, and he hadnât been able to find free time in between the two free practice sessions.
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So when his day was finally over, George really hoped that you were still by the entrance so that he could sign your cap as promised. Hell, he had even brought Kimi with him in the hopes to make a good impression.
âCan you walk more slowly, mate? First, you ask me to follow you. And now you act like youâre trying to escape me.â
âI just wanna make sure we donât get there too lateâ, George explained. âWhat if she left already?â
âIâm pretty sure her job involves staying until thereâs no one left to look after. Chill, mate, she wonât arrest you just because you didnât come back to her sooner. We couldâve even done this tomorrow,â Kimi argued.
âI promised Iâd be back, though. And yes, I couldâve held on to that promise tomorrowâŚâ The Brit reluctantly agreed. âBut it feels more respectful to not make her wait more than I already did.â
Kimi didnât say anything else, until he and George were about to go through the gates.
âIâm not about to third-wheel you, right?â
At those words, George almost choked on his saliva before keeping his composure.
âThis is nonsenseâ, he argued. âWhere even is that idea coming from?â
âOh, you know, just the fact that Iâm getting dragged through the entire paddock to sign someoneâs cap. You donât do this for anyone, none of us ever do. And yet, weâre currently doing it. So whatâs special about this fan?â Kimi wondered.
âSheâs one of Charlesâs friends, I guessâŚâ
âThatâs a shit explanationâ, Kimi immediately replied. âYou guess? The manâs friends with the whole city. Thereâs gotta be something else.â
âThereâs just something⌠intriguing about herâ, George eventually admitted. âMore than the simple fact that sheâs a Mercedes fan. She has that energy around her, but itâs like effortless.â
âSo youâre down bad for a random girl?â Kimi quickly concluded. âGot it, I will be third-wheeling you.â
âOh GodâŚâ George sighed, before he noticed you standing a bit further from the gates than earlier.
He was about to call out your name as you hadnât seen him nor Kimi yet, when he realised that he actually didnât even know it.
Well, that would be a bit awkward.
But thankfully, Kimi didnât give George a chance to be nervous as they approached you. It took barely a couple seconds for the Italian to understand whom he and his teammate were walking to.
âHey, itâs you!â Kimiâs cheerful voice caught your attention, and he waved at you with a smile when you turned to face him.
âHi, itâs me?â You definitely hadn't expected Kimi to come up to you, and were even more surprised when you saw George right on his heels. âYou really came back?â
âIâll be honest,â Kimi started, âGeorge brought me to you, but I didnât know it was you. Makes sense?â
âYeah, yeah. Itâs still nice of you, though, thanksâ
âYou can thank the wonderful and really kind soul that is my lovely teammate Georgeâ, Kimi suggested with a mischievous smile. He had indeed said that he didnât want to third-wheel, but he had never said anything about playing wingman for a bit.
âWellâŚâ You tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear â the Mercedes cap still on your head, and looked at the Brit. âThank you, George.â
âItâs no problemâ, he replied. His confidence from earlier when he was rushing Kimi through the paddock had completely evaporated, but he hoped to maintain some of his composure. âBrought a penâ, George added as he pulled out the item from his pocket.
He held out his hand towards your face, stopping a few inches away, as he wordlessly asked if it was alright. You gave him a slight nod, and lowered your head just a tiny bit.
You thought that George had asked to take off your cap, but this wasnât what actually happened.
Instead, George took a step closer while he gently grabbed the edge of the cap before directly signing while it was still on you. And God was he close. You were just a bit shorter than him, and were therefore now âface to faceâ with the top of his chest. You tried to avert your eyes, but you could only look at the way his t-shirt hugged his body.
Maybe, just maybe, his top was a size too small. But this was a thought that you would keep to yourself.
âAll goodâ, George said with a satisfied grin. He handed the marker to Kimi â who had completely been oblivious to the tension. âYour turn, mate.â
After what felt like hours, George finally released your cap and he took half a step back. He was honestly still a bit in your personal space, as he observed his work of art on the piece of merch. Then, he took another step back and it was like the both of you could breathe again.
Unlike George, Kimi went for the traditional method of removing the cap from your head. On the one hand, because he didnât need to be so up close to you in his opinion. On the other hand, because he wasnât as tall as his teammate to do the same as him or else youâd just end up hurting your back for Kimi.
He made an effort of writing his name well, so that you wouldnât have an ugly blob of ink on a cap he had given to you.
You almost wanted to chuckle at how focused he looked while signing the hat, and mentally appreciated the care put into the action. And as you were watching Kimi, George was looking at you.
Good things always came in three, and this was Georgeâs second time of actively talking to you â he wasnât fully counting the time he had only seen you from afar. So he now had two choices in front of him: either he could wait for that third conversation with you, or he could do something now in case he ended up as unlucky in love striking up friendships as he had been in the championship this season.
George was still hesitating, when Kimi took the matter in his hands.
âIâm done!â The young driver said, as he closed the pen and handed you the cap back. âItâs now worth a few hundreds, but I hope youâll keep it.â
âItâs now worth everything to me, though. Thanks again, really.â Your smile was bright, as you pulled the hat back on your head and secured your hair under it.
âIt was our pleasure. Now, do you need anything else? Pictures? Some other merch? My teammateâs number? A date with him?â
Kimiâs smile was so innocent, you and George almost missed the actual words he had uttered. While the Brit let out a cough as he processed Kimiâs words, you turned bright red under the Monaco sun.
âHeâs jokingâ, George immediately told you with a panicked tone in your voice. He wanted to shut the suggestions down, afraid that you would take Kimi seriously. Although⌠George probably wouldnât complain about landing a date with you. But right now, he just didnât want to make you uncomfortable by having you think that he was just here to hit on you. âItâsâ this isâ hmm⌠Kimiâs just kidding, you know⌠yeahâŚâ He trailed off.
You stayed silent for a few seconds, too busy to replay the conversation in your head. You now had two choices in front of you: either you were playing along by teasing George, or you could stay professional and quickly clarify that you werenât interested â but you were a bit, though, werenât you?
You thought about both options, before eventually settling on the one your emotional heart wanted to follow rather than your logical brain.
âThatâs a shameâ, you lightly said.
Georgeâs eyes widened so much at your words, it was like they wouldâve popped off their sockets. He was at a loss for words, unable to reply anything.
You wanted to add something else, just to defuse the tension and to do things properly, when one of your colleagues came up to you.
âHey, we just need you back at the station for a quick debrief. Some stuff to check on for the rest of the weekendâ, she explained.
âOh, yeah, sure. Iâll come with you in a second.â
She nodded, before stepping aside and letting you finish your conversation. You turned back to the two drivers, an apologetic smile on your face.
âDuty calls, sorry. Thanks again for your time, and good luck for the rest of the weekend â both of you.â Though, as you said that, your gaze lingered a bit more on George than on Kimi. âMaybe Iâll see you again tomorrow or on Sunday, but goodbye for now.â
And with that, you took a step back before walking up to where your colleague had been waiting. The two of you went back to the station together, chatting about anything and everything during the short journey from the track.
âThey were nice to you, yeah?â She asked, referencing the drivers you were speaking with earlier.
âVeryâ, you confirmed. âThey definitely lived up to the expectations of my favourite team.â
âGood for you â got a favourite or youâre playing it neutral?â
âCanât say that I wonât root for Georgeâ,â you admitted with a sheepish smile.
âWell, Iâll follow you up on that. I hope for him that he gets to score some good points this weekend, then.â She paused for a second, as you rounded a corner. âAnd I hope for you that you get to score with him as well.â
âWhaââ Your head snapped towards her, as you took in her words. âThatâsâ thereâsâ nothing of the sort will be happening in my workplace while Iâm doing my jobâ, you tried to argue.
âSo after work hours is fine?â She teased. âThatâs a shame, otherwise, if you donât shoot your shot.â
You had nothing to reply to that, not when she used your exact words from earlier. So, with flushed cheeks and a humph, you stayed silent until the two of you reached the station for your daily debrief.
Two days later, it was finally time for the race.
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Youâd been working already since early morning, having needed to be there from dawn per some schedule changes. At first, you hadnât been too happy about it â youâd always rather work until late than start early. But then, the head of your group had said that it meant youâd have the afternoon to watch the race. Safe to say, you didnât hesitate much longer and agreed to the switch with one of your colleagues.
And speaking of colleagues, youâd received a text right after you got relieved of your job at the gates.
I think youâre off the clock from now on ;)
Donât forget to congratulate your little driver if he does well
With a sigh and a half curl of your lips, you simply reacted with the emoji rolling its eyes and put your phone back into your pocket.
You were glad that the station wasnât that far from the far, because it gave you enough time to go there and back to change out of your uniform.
If you were being honest, this was actually your very first time watching the race with your own eyes. The previous years, youâd always been working near the port and were therefore too busy to watch more than a few snippets on the giant screens. While during your childhood, you didnât leave close enough to the track that you could watch from your balcony like most people did and had thus never experienced more than simply following the race on TV.
And for a first real time, you didnât know whether to be glad for the chaos or disappointed from its results. Sure, you were happy that Kimi had won. But you couldnât express the same feeling about Georgeâs finish position. The man whom you had been so certain would be world champion after his victory in Melbourne had only ended up in P12. Moreover, you clearly hadnât expected to witness seven DNFs in the same race â including one from Monacoâs very own local hero.
So yeah, you had mixed feelings about this. Especially regarding George. If youâd eventually decided earlier today to maybe, just maybe, shoot your shot with the driver as your colleague had said⌠Well, you were now certain that this was the last thing George ever wanted to deal with after todayâs race.
But unbeknownst to you, it was the complete opposite.
How mistaken you were, now mindlessly wandering around the city after the celebrations had winded down. You were currently near the harbour â having almost missed it after being so used to spending your previous race weekends there â and just looked around for anything unusual.
Even if you were off the clock for the rest of the day, you still liked making sure that the city and its citizens were still well-behaving. There were still loads of tourists who had come to see the race, and it reminded you of the tennis tournament youâd worked at a couple months ago.
Trying to clear your mind off your job, your thoughts then wandered to George. It seemed like you couldnât avoid the image of him in your brain today, and you wondered how he was doing.
Similarly, the driver was thinking the very same â about you.
George had been late today. It wasnât often happening, but he had chosen to put it on the fact that he was home and he may have forgotten for a bit this morning that he wasnât at home to rest but to race. So when he reached the paddock, a good half hour after his supposed arrival time, he hadnât even had time to check if you were there. But he thought it would be fine. You would still be there at the end of the day, after all. Like the two previous days, he figured.
But you werenât there, when George was leaving the paddock and looking around for the now-familiar uniform he had grown accustomed to see you wear. A strange feeling took over him at that moment. Surprise? Probably. Disappointment? Definitely.
He didnât have much more to offer you than a mere P12 today, but he knew that seeing you after such a messy day wouldâve cheered him up. Would he be crazy to start scouring the city just to catch a sight of you? Maybe. Would he still do it? Absolutely.
George didnât have anything else to do if he were being honest. Were you not haunting his thoughts, his original plan after a shit race weekend simply included watching whatever reality show he could find while eating the blandness meal known to mankind. But you were â haunting his thoughts, that is â so⌠Off he was, to a little walk around the city.
His first destination was the neighbourhood around the police station. It felt like an obvious choice, after all. He checked it off his mental list, and then went on.
Next was the Palaceâs surroundings. George didnât get too close, then opted to make his way near the Oceanographic Museum further Southeast. But still no luck.
Given the time, he figured that the whole harbour was free to roam around and therefore chose the Casino as his new destination. He walked alongside the sea, looking at the hundreds of boats docked there.
It took George twenty minutes to eventually walk past the Casino and even end up not far from the hairpin. He glanced around, noticing that he was currently at the Champions Promenade. It was rare for George to come here. But right now, the place felt peaceful. Only a handful of people were there, just quietly sitting on the couple benches scattered near the bushes.
He paused for a bit, just enjoying the lack of crowd and loud noises. This was definitely the complete opposite from the paddock and garage he had spent his weekend in. He leaned on the low wall towering above the sea, and closed his eyes. He breathed in, and out, as his shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in days.
When George opened his eyes, he felt a quiet pull that unknowingly made his head turn to the right.
And here you were. Only a few yards away from him. You were in civilian clothes, with your hair down. Seemingly lost in whatever you were doing on your phone, you didnât notice Georgeâs presence until you felt that quiet pull too. Tearing your gaze away from your phone, you were expecting whatever sight to grace your eyes but the one of Georgeâs face already staring at you.
He had that expression in his eyes. One that was a mix of confusion, and of wondering whether you were indeed real or just a figment of his imagination. When you didnât avert your eyes from him, George eventually accepted that you were actually there in front of him.
âHeyâ, was the only thing he managed to say after having been silent for a couple minutes.
âHiâ, you replied.
Neither of you moved an inch. You both stayed still, not daring to fully face each other by fear of breaking the spell you were both currently enthralled in.
Gathering all the courage he had ever felt in his life, George gulped before clearing his throat.
âHmm⌠isâ would it still be a shame if I told you that Kimi offering up my number truly was a joke?â
âYeah,â you confirmed with a tight-lipped smile. âI would be a bit disappointed if it were.â
âThen, what would you say if I actually were open to giving it to you? Would you⌠perhaps take the offer?â He tentatively asked, every fibre of his being now vibrating from stress.
Your smile widened, as you didnât hesitate even one second before extending the hand that was holding your phone to George.
âOnly if you promise to never use the I know a cop card to get out of paying your fines.â
Hey hey hey<3 tysm for reading, i hope y'all liked it (esp you sere!!) please tell me the title isn't too cringe bc it felt funny to me when i wrote it but idk if my humour is acc good or not lolđ§đťââď¸
I almost feel ashamed coming back on here after there's been a massive drought of fics on my pageđ i still haven't written the requests i had + grid mum has been on standby for wayyyy too long so i gotta focus on that now that summer holidays are starting and i have less classes
I hope that despite the fucking chaotic season, everyone's been doing well in the fandomđ I've missed writing sm, so let's pray i get some inspo this summer bc I'd love to do a real comeback on here :)
See you whenever, take care of yourselves, i love y'all xx
