There's a calm humility to sitting on the floor, even when there are more comfortable seats available. It's a sense of grounding, perhaps, being the most down-to-earth you can be without going outside and sitting in the dirt.
She cradles her cream soda in her lap, back up against one of the tool cabinets, meditating on the coolness of the concrete floor beneath her. Beer and everything like it is banned from the garage. Anything that can compromise the abilities of the mechanics and drivers is too big of a risk to even allow on the premises.
Haven looks down at her hands, covered in grease, dirt, and oil - a testament to the work put in that evening - and looks back up at Alex.
"Yeah, I guess we are. Not bad at all."
“I’m starving.” He checks his watch and the fact that it’s a quarter to midnight makes his eyebrows jump. “Jesus, I didn’t realize it was so late.” They’ve been working on his car all evening, and one by one, the mechanics have filtered out of the garage to go back home to their families and their lives outside of motor sport. To Alex, his life is his car, and it’s his first grand prix tomorrow. Everything has to be perfect, or as close to perfect as he can get.
“I think we’re the only ones left here.” He has to be back here at seven o’clock in the morning, so really, he should be getting some sleep, but sleep seems to be next-to-impossible for him at the moment. “Come on, I’ll buy you food. Whatever is still open at this time. Maybe room service at the hotel.” Alex grins, as he pulls off his gloves and sets them down on top of the car. “I’m so nervous for tomorrow.” A pause. “I know what I have to do. I just hope I can do it.”
