Goergie sighs in affection as she sees Max's tucked in head under her arm. The morning sun casts a beautiful golden halo on Max's hair.
She tries to get up but flinches at the suddenly registered pain in her other arm. She tore her arm muscles a few weeks back while driving. She was informed of it being a grade 2 tear, so not a complete breakage, but still requires lots of time and attention to heal ideally.
Next to her, Max stirred awake, grumpy as a kitten, squinting her eyes like one as well.
"Morning Maxie", Goergie leans downwards kissed Max's temple.
"How's your arm?" She rubbed her face awake and pushed astray strands of hair back.
Goerge made a face at the question. Too many people had asked that. She just wants to breath without hearing it for a moment. She's not a fragile china that'll break any moment. She's an elite athlete for fuck's sake.
But she also knows Max had taken it as her responsibility to take care of her.
"A bit better. The ice compression helped",
Max smiled at her, "Good", she narrowed her eyes when George made an attempt to leave her bed, "You should rest. You are under a strict month off from your doctor",
Goergie groans half heartedly, "Let me live, Verstappen!"
"No", Max gives her a deadpan answer.
Goergie swats her wife with her good arm.
Max grabbed her hand gently, "Rude to hit the person taking care of you, you know",
Goerge titled her head to the side, "I'm hungry", and right on qué, her stomach rumbles.
"Okay", Max gets up and stretches her arms and legs, revealing a sliver of her stomach, making Georgie smile.
"Here, let me redo your braid. We all know how fussy you get otherwise", Max undoes her loose braids and cards her fingers into her hair. It pulls on her scalp at all the right angles in the right pressure. It feels so relieving to let her hair open. On any other day, she would've let it undone, but right now, her arm doesn't allow her such mobility or good mood.
Max kisses the top of Georgie's head and heads to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Goergie heads to the bathroom to relieve herself and wash her teeth and face. It takes her a longer time without her left arm, but she manages to get it done without labouring her arm too much.
By the time she returns to bed, she's exhausted and her right arm, no matter how well trained and capable it is, aches a little. Just a hint, as if it's protesting about the unequal work done by both of the arms.
Maxine returned with a plate of pancakes and protein shake.
Georgie looks up at her with bewilderment, "I have a diet to follow, I can't eat this",
Max scoffs at her wife's reservation, "It's made for oat flour and rapeseed oil. It's as healthy as you can get. Have some joy in life", Max cut up a piece and brought it to Georgie's mouth who skeptical but took it.
It wasn't bad. The texture was off, just a hint, from the usual smooth fluff of pancakes but it was edible. It isn't too sweet either. Just the way Goergie likes it.
They keep the rhythm of Maxie feeding her and stealing a few bites for herself. It is so slow, so unlike what they're trained for. Goergie finds she likes this, everything about it. The coldness of the winter, the weak sun, the breakfast in bed made by her wife.
Well, everything but the turn arm.
"Have you ever thought of what you wanna do after F1?"
Goergie blinked at the out of the blue question.
Max scrunched her nose. She knows she has to explain her train of thought, "I was thinking of injuries and then old age and then average age of drivers that leave F1 and then how many of them take up Endurance",
"Ah. Well...", Goergie leans on the bed's head rest, "I'd love to have that chance and go around the Nordschleife",
Max couldn't help but laugh, which echoed across the room.
George pouted, "What's so laughable about that",
"Nothing, just the way you said it. It's so adorable", Max fed her a bite before she bites her head off.
Goergie takes it dutifully but throws nasty side eyes to Max.
"Maybe we can team up in Endurance someday. Like Le Mans or something",
Hearing that lightened Goergie's heart so much that she wasn't able to put it in words so she just leaned forward and kissed her straight on the lips, not caring for the lingering taste of pancakes.
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