Summary: George's job is simple – 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 guys🙂 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 it😋 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 – 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 MASTERLIST🏎
“And how would you like to pay?”
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 hadn’t even planned to stay there! Just a quick errand to run, and he would’ve 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 hadn’t said a word since he had come back to his car and asked you what was going on.
“You can’t double-park here, sir. You’re gonna force drivers to swerve right after they exit the corner over there.” You had pointed at the low-visibility tight curve. “This would be even more dangerous in the case of a truck trying to avoid your badly-parked car.”
After those words, you’d 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. You’d 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:
“You’re your fine, sir. How would you like to pay?” You patiently watched him, tapping your pen on your notebook.
“Can I pay now?” He wondered.
“Sure”, you replied with a nod. You wrote down on your paper that the payment was immediate, before pulling out your terminal. “Gonna be card only, then, if that’s alright.”
“Sure…” 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 you’d eventually go back to the station at the end of your workday – this wasn’t everyday that you were fining an F1 driver for poor parking skills after all.
Safe to say, it would’ve been an easy memory to forget for George – if not for the video that was currently circulating online. Posted mere minutes after you’d 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 didn’t take long for the video to reach the feed of a few of George’s 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 should’ve 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 – all within the next two minutes:
I do know her, though
Probably the nicest amongst the main patrol
Shame she’s a merc fan
At the last message, George stilled. Had you known who he was earlier? He hadn’t assumed because you had asked for confirmation of his identity when checking his licence plate, and George didn’t want to be so self-entitled that he thought everyone in Monaco knew him.
But this changed everything. Did it, though? He wondered. It wasn’t not like George was ever going to see you again – he definitely wasn’t 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 didn’t want to boost his ego for nothing. Not when he didn’t 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 hadn’t 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.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Although he was more used to playing padel, George was still a tennis fan like plenty of other drivers. He’d been going to more and more matches since last year, especially to watch Jannik Sinner. And that’s how he had ended up literally sitting in the Italian’s 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 – 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 wasn’t 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 someone’s 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 couldn’t really make out what you were saying, but he couldn’t 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 wouldn’t last long, and that he would be able to forget about you – just like he’d done so back then after the embarrassing performance that had been his poor parking skills.
And he’d once again succeeded, until it was time for the Monaco Grand Prix.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
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 weren’t 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 wasn’t unusual, given that the majority of them lived close to one another, so George didn’t bat an eye as he naturally fell into step with Charles.
He did bat an eye, though, when the Monégasque began talking to everyone they were walking past. Charles’s dentist. One of his middle school friends. The cashier from the corner store. And not one, but two police officers. At that, George couldn’t help teasing Charles:
“Have you befriended each one who's ever fined you for your oh-so-wonderful parking skills?”
“I don’t like your tone, Russell.” But there was no real annoyance in Charles’s tone, as he playfully rolled his eyes. “Not every single one of them had the chance of witnessing such an event. I’m just being polite to the people protecting us, and making us feel safe.”
Despite the slight hint of sarcasm, there was still truth in Charles’s words. He did appreciate the safety of a city such as Monaco, and was grateful for it.
However, when he felt George’s eyes looking at him from his left, Charles let out a sigh before he admitted what George had thought.
“But yes, coincidentally those two did fine me once – maybe twice each if we’re being specific.”
At that, George couldn’t 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.
“You don’t have any right to laugh when I can remember you being in that situation months ago.”
“It was a unique occasion, though. Never happened again since then,” George argued. “Whereas, you wanna tell me how many times it happened to you?”
“I didn’t keep count”, 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.
“As I was saying”, Charles started again, “I do not keep count of every single time I park like shit, especially when it’s the streets’ fault.”
“Blaming the city’s layout isn’t a good look on you.”
Immediately noticing how it wasn’t George who had replied, Charles turned to the feminine voice that had said those words. And that’s when he saw you, grinning at him.
“Since when do you take care of paddock entrance?” Charles wondered. It wasn’t unusual for Monaco police officers to be assigned to the safety of the perimeter surrounding the track along with the FIA’s own security, but Charles had no memory of ever seeing you there specifically. “Got demoted from watching the rich in their yachts?”
The chuckle you let out was like a warm ray of sunlight to George’s ears. It had only taken him less than a millisecond to recognise you, even when you hadn’t crossed his mind since he’d last seen you at the tennis tournament. Trailing behind Charles as the two of you kept talking, George couldn’t help noticing the Mercedes cap on your head.
“This is hardly being demoted”, you teased, “not when I actually asked for it.”
“You asked for this?” Charles raised an eyebrow at you, gesturing around him.
“Being in the shade, seeing all the drivers arriving, and then getting to watch the race from the starting line on Sunday? Yes, Monsieur Leclerc” – this was definitely sarcasm, George noted. “It’s 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.”
“Okay, fair enough. Can I address the elephant in the room, now?”
You stared at Charles, tilting your head in a silent question.
“Do I have to go ask for a Ferrari cap for you? You’re walking around with betrayal all over you.”
You snorted, taking the cap off your head with a smile.
“Courtesy of Kimi Antonelli”, you confessed. “I couldn’t 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 – he just didn’t have a marker on him earlier.”
“I’ll get you a Ferrari cap signed by Lewis to replace that one”, Charles said with a blank face. “You cannot be seen with that”, he added while pointing at the cap in your hands. Then, a grin appeared on his face as he finally remembered George’s presence. “However, I can get you another signature if you really want a Mercedes driver. My good friend George, here, will happily give you an autograph!”
“Huh?” 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 – plus, he wasn’t 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:
“It’s okay, you don’t have to just because Charles said so. It’s alr–”
“Nonsense”, George reassured you with that polished smile of his. “I’m happy to do so, especially when it’s for a dedicated fan who also happens to protect the city I live in.”
“And occasionally give parking tickets?”
“That too, yes.” George’s perfectly crafted smile shifted to a softer one at the memory of your first meeting. “I’ll admit I don’t have a pen on me at the moment, though.” He looked around hoping to catch someone holding one, but to no success. “I’ll be back momentarily, just wait.”
Oh, you would’ve waited eternity for your favourite driver – 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.
“It’s fine, really.” You wanted to argue with George, but your words fell on deaf ears as he shook his head.
“I’ll be back”, 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.
“Come on, don’t look at me like that.” Charles laughed as his eyes caught your stern ones. “You’ll thank me later,” 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 – 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 hadn’t come back until the end of the day. He had immediately been kidnapped by the team’s social media admin when reaching the Mercedes hospitality, and he hadn’t been able to find free time in between the two free practice sessions.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
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.
“Can you walk more slowly, mate? First, you ask me to follow you. And now you act like you’re trying to escape me.”
“I just wanna make sure we don’t get there too late”, George explained. “What if she left already?”
“I’m pretty sure her job involves staying until there’s no one left to look after. Chill, mate, she won’t arrest you just because you didn’t come back to her sooner. We could’ve even done this tomorrow,” Kimi argued.
“I promised I’d be back, though. And yes, I could’ve held on to that promise tomorrow…” The Brit reluctantly agreed. “But it feels more respectful to not make her wait more than I already did.”
Kimi didn’t say anything else, until he and George were about to go through the gates.
“I’m not about to third-wheel you, right?”
At those words, George almost choked on his saliva before keeping his composure.
“This is nonsense”, he argued. “Where even is that idea coming from?”
“Oh, you know, just the fact that I’m getting dragged through the entire paddock to sign someone’s cap. You don’t do this for anyone, none of us ever do. And yet, we’re currently doing it. So what’s special about this fan?” Kimi wondered.
“She’s one of Charles’s friends, I guess…”
“That’s a shit explanation”, Kimi immediately replied. “You guess? The man’s friends with the whole city. There’s gotta be something else.”
“There’s just something… intriguing about her”, George eventually admitted. “More than the simple fact that she’s a Mercedes fan. She has that energy around her, but it’s like effortless.”
“So you’re down bad for a random girl?” Kimi quickly concluded. “Got it, I will be third-wheeling you.”
“Oh God…” 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 hadn’t seen him nor Kimi yet, when he realised that he actually didn’t even know it.
Well, that would be a bit awkward.
But thankfully, Kimi didn’t 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.
“Hey, it’s you!” Kimi’s cheerful voice caught your attention, and he waved at you with a smile when you turned to face him.
“Hi, it’s me?” You definitely hadn't expected Kimi to come up to you, and were even more surprised when you saw George right on his heels. “You really came back?”
“I’ll be honest,” Kimi started, “George brought me to you, but I didn’t know it was you. Makes sense?”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s still nice of you, though, thanks”
“You can thank the wonderful and really kind soul that is my lovely teammate George”, Kimi suggested with a mischievous smile. He had indeed said that he didn’t want to third-wheel, but he had never said anything about playing wingman for a bit.
“Well…” You tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear – the Mercedes cap still on your head, and looked at the Brit. “Thank you, George.”
“It’s no problem”, 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. “Brought a pen”, 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 wasn’t 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 ‘face to face’ 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.
“All good”, George said with a satisfied grin. He handed the marker to Kimi – who had completely been oblivious to the tension. “Your turn, mate.”
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 didn’t need to be so up close to you in his opinion. On the other hand, because he wasn’t as tall as his teammate to do the same as him or else you’d just end up hurting your back for Kimi.
He made an effort of writing his name well, so that you wouldn’t 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 George’s second time of actively talking to you – he wasn’t 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.
“I’m done!” The young driver said, as he closed the pen and handed you the cap back. “It’s now worth a few hundreds, but I hope you’ll keep it.”
“It’s now worth everything to me, though. Thanks again, really.” Your smile was bright, as you pulled the hat back on your head and secured your hair under it.
“It was our pleasure. Now, do you need anything else? Pictures? Some other merch? My teammate’s number? A date with him?”
Kimi’s 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 Kimi’s words, you turned bright red under the Monaco sun.
“He’s joking”, 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 wouldn’t complain about landing a date with you. But right now, he just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by having you think that he was just here to hit on you. “It’s– this is– hmm… Kimi’s just kidding, you know… yeah…” 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 weren’t interested – but you were a bit, though, weren’t you?
You thought about both options, before eventually settling on the one your emotional heart wanted to follow rather than your logical brain.
“That’s a shame”, you lightly said.
George’s eyes widened so much at your words, it was like they would’ve 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.
“Hey, we just need you back at the station for a quick debrief. Some stuff to check on for the rest of the weekend”, she explained.
“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll come with you in a second.”
She nodded, before stepping aside and letting you finish your conversation. You turned back to the two drivers, an apologetic smile on your face.
“Duty calls, sorry. Thanks again for your time, and good luck for the rest of the weekend – both of you.” Though, as you said that, your gaze lingered a bit more on George than on Kimi. “Maybe I’ll see you again tomorrow or on Sunday, but goodbye for now.”
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.
“They were nice to you, yeah?” She asked, referencing the drivers you were speaking with earlier.
“Very”, you confirmed. “They definitely lived up to the expectations of my favourite team.”
“Good for you – got a favourite or you’re playing it neutral?”
“Can’t say that I won’t root for George”,” you admitted with a sheepish smile.
“Well, I’ll follow you up on that. I hope for him that he gets to score some good points this weekend, then.” She paused for a second, as you rounded a corner. “And I hope for you that you get to score with him as well.”
“Wha–” Your head snapped towards her, as you took in her words. “That’s– there’s– nothing of the sort will be happening in my workplace while I’m doing my job”, you tried to argue.
“So after work hours is fine?” She teased. “That’s a shame, otherwise, if you don’t shoot your shot.”
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.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
You’d been working already since early morning, having needed to be there from dawn per some schedule changes. At first, you hadn’t been too happy about it – you’d always rather work until late than start early. But then, the head of your group had said that it meant you’d have the afternoon to watch the race. Safe to say, you didn’t hesitate much longer and agreed to the switch with one of your colleagues.
And speaking of colleagues, you’d received a text right after you got relieved of your job at the gates.
I think you’re off the clock from now on ;)
Don’t 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 wasn’t 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, you’d 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 didn’t 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 didn’t know whether to be glad for the chaos or disappointed from its results. Sure, you were happy that Kimi had won. But you couldn’t express the same feeling about George’s 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 hadn’t expected to witness seven DNFs in the same race – including one from Monaco’s very own local hero.
So yeah, you had mixed feelings about this. Especially regarding George. If you’d 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 today’s 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 – having almost missed it after being so used to spending your previous race weekends there – 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 you’d worked at a couple months ago.
Trying to clear your mind off your job, your thoughts then wandered to George. It seemed like you couldn’t avoid the image of him in your brain today, and you wondered how he was doing.
Similarly, the driver was thinking the very same – about you.
George had been late today. It wasn’t 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 wasn’t at home to rest but to race. So when he reached the paddock, a good half hour after his supposed arrival time, he hadn’t 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 weren’t 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 didn’t have much more to offer you than a mere P12 today, but he knew that seeing you after such a messy day would’ve 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 didn’t 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 – haunting his thoughts, that is – 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 Palace’s surroundings. George didn’t 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 didn’t notice George’s 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 George’s 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 didn’t avert your eyes from him, George eventually accepted that you were actually there in front of him.
“Hey”, was the only thing he managed to say after having been silent for a couple minutes.
“Hi”, 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.
“Hmm… is– would it still be a shame if I told you that Kimi offering up my number truly was a joke?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed with a tight-lipped smile. “I would be a bit disappointed if it were.”
“Then, what would you say if I actually were open to giving it to you? Would you… perhaps take the offer?” He tentatively asked, every fibre of his being now vibrating from stress.
Your smile widened, as you didn’t hesitate even one second before extending the hand that was holding your phone to George.
“Only if you promise to never use the I know a cop card to get out of paying your fines.”
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 lol🧍🏻♀️
I almost feel ashamed coming back on here after there's been a massive drought of fics on my page😭 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 fandom🎀 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
