WARNINGS: supernatural beings, reader ends up in hospital
WC: 1.3k
Library // Join The Taglist! // Other Chapters
I didn't tell Oscar where I was going.
I just told him I needed air.
That wasn't entirely a lie.
The hotel room had become unbearable. Every corner seemed to breathe. Every mirror held shadows that lingered a second too long. The whispers had followed me into sleep, into the shower, into the silence between conversations. They never stopped.
He doesn't deserve it.
He doesn't deserve it.
I couldn't keep waiting for answers to find me.
I had to find them first.
My grandmother used to tell me there were three rules when speaking to the dead.
Never invite something inside unless you know how to make it leave
Never ask a question you aren't prepared to hear the answer to
Never EVER do it alone
I was about to break all three
There was an abandoned stone chapel a few miles from the circuit.
Most people ignored it. It had been deconstructed decades ago, left standing only because it was considered historically significant. Ivy crawled across the walls, stained-glass windows sat cracked with age, and the wooden pews had long since rotted away.
To me...
It was quiet.
Places where people had once prayed often carried gentler spirits than anywhere else.
I unlocked the old door with permission I'd managed to get from the groundskeeper earlier that afternoon, stepped inside, and shut the world out behind me.
The silence was immediate.
No engines.
No crowds.
Just me.
I placed my bag on what remained of the altar.
Inside were the few things I always carried but hoped I wouldn't have to use.
White candles.
Sea salt.
Dried rosemary.
A silver necklace my grandmother had left me.
And Elliot Grant's photograph.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to the empty chapel as I arranged everything into a circle on the stone floor.
"I know you won't like this."
The candles burned steadily.
Too steadily.
Not a single flame moved despite the draft slipping through the shattered windows.
I sat cross-legged inside the circle, Elliot's photograph resting in from of me.
Closing my eyes, I wrapped both hands around the necklace.
"I call only to those connected to Elliot Grant."
My voice echoed softly.
"I ask for truth."
Nothing.
"I ask for peace.
Still nothing.
I inhaled slowly.
"I ask for whoever began this curse."
The temperature collapsed.
The candles extinguished all at once.
Darkness swallowed the chapel.
My eyes snapped open.
Someone was standing outside the circle.
Then another.
Then another.
Not one spirit.
Not ten.
Dozens.
Young men.
Some still wearing racing suits from different decades.
Some dressed in old McLaren polo's.
Some so transparent I could barely make out their faces.
Others looked horrifyingly real.
Their eyes never left me.
My pulse hammered.
"No..."
These weren't just ghosts.
They were connected.
Bound together.
Like pieces of one broken soul.
"You came."
The voice wasn't loud.
It was...
Every voice speaking together.
Young, old, French, British, Australian.
Different accents layered over one another until they became impossible to separate.
"I asked for answers."
The figures didn't move.
"We have waited."
I swallowed.
"What are you?"
The silence stretched.
Then every head tilted at exactly the same angle.
"We are what remains."
"We are every promise unfinished."
"Every future abandoned."
"Every rookie forgotten."
Cold spread across my skin.
This wasn't Elliot's sister.
This was something much older.
Much larger.
The grief of generations.
"You've been hurting Oscar."
Every face looked at me.
"He seeks the same glory."
"He walks the same path."
"He believes he is different."
"He is not."
Anger replaced my fear.
"He hasn't done anything wrong. He took nothing from you."
One of the spirits stepped closer. His race suit was torn across the chest. Helmet tucked underneath one arm.
"I said those exact words."
Another appeared beside him.
"I thought talent was enough."
Another.
"I thought I had time."
The chapel seemed to shrink around me.
Their voices became heavier.
Louder.
Until they vibrated through my ribs.
"What do you want from him?"
Every candle reignited at once.
Blue flames.
Impossible flames.
The collective took another step.
"Balance."
The word hit me like a physical force.
"What the fuck does that even mean?"
Silence.
Then-
"He races only forward."
"He carried expectation."
"He carries perfection."
"He carries fear."
"He must choose."
"Choose what?" I say confused.
Their faces twisted with sorrow.
"Life."
My heart skipped.
"I don't understand."
"He cannot outrun what follows him."
"He must stop racing against himself."
"He must accept what can be lost."
The words made no sense.
At least...
Not yet.
"You killed Elliot."
The accusation escaped before I could stop it.
Every spirit froze.
Then...
"No."
The answer shook the walls.
"We did not kill."
"We warned."
"He refused balance."
"He believed speed was worth everything."
"He forgot himself."
The blue flames burned higher.
"Every rookie is offered a choice."
"They never see it."
"They chase victory."
"They abandon balance."
"They become us."
Tears blurred my vision.
"So you're punishing Oscar?"
"We are testing him."
"If he breaks..."
"He joins us."
"If he finds balance."
"The cycle weakens."
Weakens. Not ends.
"You can stop this."
"We cannot."
"You choose."
"I don't race."
"No."
The voices softened.
"But you love one who does."
Every spirit turned toward me.
Together.
Perfectly synchronised.
"He trusts you."
"You anchor him."
"You are balance."
My stomach twisted.
"No."
"You will carry his burden."
"I won't let you."
"You already have."
Suddenly...
I couldn't breathe.
The cold rushed into me.
Not around me.
Into me.
My chest burned.
Every whisper I'd heard over the past week exploded inside my head.
Hundreds of voices.
Hundreds of memories.
Cars spinning.
Rain.
Impact.
Sirens.
Screaming crowds.
Broken dreams.
Regret.
So much regret.
I cried out, clutching my head.
"Stop-"
The voices only grew louder.
They kept repeating "Balance."
Something grabbed my wrists.
Not physically.
Spiritually.
Like invisible hands dragging me beneath freezing water.
Pain ripped though every nerve.
My vision blurred.
I couldn't tell where I ended and they began.
The last thing I heard before everything disappeared was one final sentence.
"If he refuses balance..."
"...you will pay the price."
Someone was shouting my name.
Far away.
Then closer.
Warm hands lifted my face.
"Y/N"
Oscar.
I tried opening my eyes.
Nothing. Darkness.
"Come on sweetheart."
His voice cracked.
"Please."
I wanted to answer.
I couldn't move.
When I finally opened my eyes again, bright hospital lights replaced the chapel ceiling.
Everything hurt.
Even breathing.
Oscar was asleep in the chair beside the bed, one hand still wrapped tightly around mine.
His head rested awkwardly against the mattress, dark curls falling over his forehead.
He looked exhausted.
Like he hadn't slept at all.
A nurse noticed I was awake.
"Oh, thank goodness."
"What..."
My throat felt raw.
"You collapsed."
She checked the monitor beside me.
"Your boyfriend found you in the chapel."
My heart dropped.
The chapel.
How?
"He carried you outside himself."
She smiled gently.
"He refused to leave your side."
I turned back toward Oscar.
As if sensing I was awake, his eyes slowly opened.
For one long moment...
Neither of us spoke.
Then he stood so quickly his chair scraped across the floor.
He cupped my face with shaking hands.
"Don't ever do that to me again."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I thought..."
He stopped.
I reached up, resting my hand over his.
"I'm sorry."
His eyes were red.
"You promised we'd figure this out together."
"I know."
"You lied to me."
The words hurt because they were true.
"I was trying to protect you."
His laugh was hollow.
"Look where that got us."
Silence settled between us.
Finally he leaned forward until his forehead rested against mine.
"No more doing this alone."
I closed my eyes.
"No more."
He squeezed my hand.
"We face whatever this is together."
I wanted to believe him.
I really did.
But the final words of the collective echoed through my mind.
Hello! I am usually a silent reader, but I just wanted to say your recent Kimi fic meant so much to me. It made me feel less alone with my own eating struggles, and I have never seen it be potrayed so accurately to my own experience. Thank you and great job <3
Hello! thank you for reading x
i wasn’t going to write it originally but then i though about people that it could possibly help and just know that you’re not alone, ever x
my DMs are always open to anyone that would like to talk
Idk if I am but i might be 🇮🇹 idk atp but i told my counsellor abt my e*tung and I’m slowly getting better can you make a fic w Kimi antonelli abt reader w an ed and helping her during a race weekend because when I’m nervous I can’t eat xx grazie amore btw I loooovveee ur fics
Hey! First of all, I'm so so proud of you for opening up and speaking about it and making the progress, even if it's slowly, it's still something! you're still getting better everyday, even if it's baby steps, they're still steps x
I have emoji anons: 🪩 🇮🇹 🇬🇧. I think one person has both 🇮🇹 🇬🇧 and I know who they are so I'll just give them 🇬🇧 so I differentiate you guys.
Enjoy the fic! if there is anything you didn't like about part, just put another request in and I'm happy to write another one!
Pairings: KA12 x gf!reader
Warnings: ED, recovery
WC: 1.3K
If anyone is struggling, my DMs are always open but please always talk to someone. I will link some resources at the end!
Library // Join the taglist!
The first thing Kimi noticed wasn't that you looked tired.
It wasn't the fain shadows beneath your eyes, or the way your shoulders seemed a little tighter than they had been when you'd landed on Thursday afternoon. It wasn't even that you'd been unusually quiet during breakfast, answering his questions with absent-minded smiled before looking back out over the paddock through the glass windows of the Mercedes hospitality suite.
It was the cup of tea.
Still full.
Completely untouched.
He'd learned, over the two years you'd been together, that the little things usually told him more than the obvious ones ever could.
'You've gone cold," he said softly as he sat beside you.
You blinked, turning towards him.
"Hm?"
"The tea."
"Oh."
You looked down at the mug as though. you'd forgotten it existed.
"I didn't realise."
"You haven't touched it."
A small shrug lifted one shoulder.
"I've been distracted."
Kimi nodded, accepting the answer for what it was instead of questioning it. Around the two of you, engineers drifted in and out with laptops tucked under their arms while mechanics laughed over coffee before heading to the garage. Somewhere downstairs, tyres were already being wheeled through the paddock.
Race weekends always had their own rhythm.
Normally you loved it.
Normally you were in the garage with your camera before the first practice session recording a vlog for YouTube, chatting with mechanics, joking with team members who had become close friends over the years.
Today you simply watched everyone else move.
"You slept badly," Kimi observed.
"A little."
"And you've been anxious since yesterday."
This time you didn't answer.
That silence was the answer alone.
He reached across the table, threading his fingers through yours without another word. His thumb rubbed slow circles across the back of your hand.
"I'll bw alright," you murmured eventually.
"I know."
"You don't have to worry."
"I'm always going to worry a little."
Your lips curved into a tiny smile.
"I know."
The waitress arrived a few moments later with small fresh pastries, fruit and yoghurt.
Kimi thanked her.
You thanked her too.
Neither of you reached for anything.
He noticed your eyes flick over the plate before settling back on your tea.
Your jaw tightened.
The familiar look settled across your face.
Kimi had seen it before.
Not once.
Not twice.
Dozens of times.
Whenever your anxiety climbed high enough, your appetite disappeared entirely.
It wasn't stubbornness.
It wasn't dieting.
It wasn't something you chose.
Your stomach simply closed itself off, leaving you feeling nauseous at the mere thought of eating.
The first time he'd witnessed it had been during your first travelling together. You'd made it all the way to Sunday afternoon in Singapore before admitting you'd barely eaten since Friday morning.
He had never forgotten that expression.
Nor had he forgotten promising himself that he would never become another person telling you to 'just eat'.
Instead, he'd asked what helped.
You'd admitted you didn't really know.
So together, over months rather than days, you'd started figuring it out.
Small portions.
Plain food.
No pressure.
No guilt if you couldn't manage it.
Sometimes it worked.
Sometimes it didn't.
This weekend, judging by the untouched breakfast in front of you, wasn't going to one of the easy ones.
Kimi picked up a pastry while continuing a conversation about the weather forecast as though nothing unusual was happening.
Rain was possible on Sunday.
The wind had shifted overnight.
The track temperature was expected to climb during qualifying.
He wasn't talking because the weather interested him.
He was talking because silence gave your anxiety too much room to grow.
Eventually he broke the pastry in half and placed a half on your plate.
No comment.
No expectation.
Simply there.
You stared at it for several seconds.
"I don't think I can."
"I know."
"I'm not hungry."
"I know."
"My stomach feels..."
"Tight?"
You nodded.
"And if I try to eat it feels like I'll be sick."
"I know that feeling."
"You don't."
"No," he corrected gently. "I don't know exactly how it feels. But I know that's what it feels like for you."
You shoulders loosened slightly.
Being understood, even imperfectly, always seemed to help.
"I hate this."
"I know."
"I feel ridiculous."
Kimi shook his head immediately.
"I've never thought that."
"But everyone else just..."
"They don't matter."
You looked at him.
"They're not living in your body."
The words settled somewhere deep inside your chest.
He wasn't trying to convince you that eating was easy.
He wasn't pretending your anxiety could be solved by positive thinking.
He was simply sitting beside you in it.
After another minute you reached for the pastry.
Your hand trembled.
Kimi deliberately looked away, asking one go the engineers a question about the morning briefing as though he hadn't noticed.
You appreciated that.
You hated feeling watched.
The first bite was tiny.
Barely enough to count.
It still made your stomach twist.
You swallowed hard before setting the pastry back down.
"I'm done."
Kimi looked back.
"You managed one bite."
"It doesn't feel like enough."
"It doesn't have to be."
You frowned.
"I mean that."
His voice remained calm.
"Today isn't about finishing breakfast. Today is about giving your body something."
You stared at the pastry.
It feels like falling.
He squeezed you knee beneath the table.
"I don't measure success by how much you eat."
"What do you measure it by?"
"The fact you keep trying."
Something in your throat tightened.
Most people saw an untouched plate.
Kimi saw the effort it took to pick up the fork in the first place.
That difference meant everything.
The morning passed in its usual blur of meetings and garage visits. Kimi became absorbed with engineers discussing tyre degradation while you wandered slowly through the paddock with your camera hanging from your shoulder.
You took photographs because the routine was comforting.
Focus.
Adjust.
Click.
Repeat.
For a little while, the anxiety faded into the background.
Until you realised your hands were beginning to shake again.
You hadn't eaten anything else.
You'd barely touched your water bottle.
The familiar dizziness crept in quietly.
You sat on an empty equipment case behind the garage, pressing your palms together to stop them trembling.
"I wondered where you'd disappeared to."
"I needed five minutes."
"Okay."
You leaned your head against him.
"I tried."
"I know."
"I wanted to eat more."
"I know."
"But every time I looked at it..."
"You felt sick."
You laughed weakly.
"You know me too well."
"I've had a lot of practice."
For several minutes neither of you spoke.
Cars screamed down the pit lane.
Mechanics hurried past carrying equipment.
The enter paddock moved around the two of you.
Kimi reached into his bag.
"I brought something."
You gave him a suspicious look.
"If it's another lecture..."
"It's not."
He held out a small packet of plain crackers.
"They've helped before."
You looked at them.
"I don't know if I can."
"You don't have to decide now."
He placed them beside you instead of into your hand.
"They'll still be there in ten minutes."
You smiled faintly.
"You always make it feel less impossible."
He kissed your forehead.
"I can't fix it."
"I know."
"But I can sit with you for the rest of the afternoon."
The words stayed with you for the rest of the afternoon.
Not because they made the anxiety disappear.
It didn't.
Recovery wasn't like that.
There would be weekends where breakfast remained untouched.
Weekends where two crackers felt like climbing a mountain.
There would be tears in total rooms after qualifying, moments of frustration when your body refused to cooperate, and mornings where Kimi quietly replace your cold cup of tea with a hot one simply because he knew the gesture mattered.
Neither of you expected miracles anymore.
You had learned to celebrate the smallest victories.
One bite.
One sip.
One step at a time.
And somehow, with Kimi beside you, those tiny victories slowly began to add up to something that looked a little more like hope.
Links to help:
Beating eating disorders (UK)
NHS - has info on treatment, getting help and signs of ED
WARNINGS: i can’t spoil it in the warnings so proceed with caution
WC: 1.1k
Library // Join the taglist! // More chapters
🌸 AUSTIN TEXAS 🌸
The paddock felt different this time.
The first visit had been exciting- new faces, new experiences, a dream come true.
Now it felt...complicated.
You adjusted the Mercedes pass around your neck as you walked beside Malachi through the entrance, trying to ignore the knot the had lived in your stomach since your plane landed.
Three weeks.
Three weeks of texting Kimi.
Three weeks of laughing over voice notes, race memes, late-night conversations when jet lag kept him awake and tour buses kept you awake.
Nothing had happened.
Nothing inappropriate.
But somewhere between the messages and the phone calls, you'd stopped looking forward to the races because of Formula 1.
You looked forward to seeing him.
That thought alone made you feel sick.
Malachi reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.
"You okay?"
You forced a smile.
"Just tired."
He frowned, brushing his thumb across your knuckles.
"You've barely eaten since last night."
"I know."
"You look really pale."
"I'm okay."
"You don't look okay."
Before you could argue, he gently steered you toward one of the seats in the garage.
"Sit."
"Malachi.."
"Please."
His voice was soft.
Concerned.
The kind of concern that only made the guilt sitting in your chest heavier.
"I'm going to the hospitality," he said. "I'll grab you something to eat. Water too."
"You don't have to-"
"I want to."
He kissed your forehead.
"I'll be back."
You watched him disappear down the corridor.
Your chest tightened.
He was always like this.
Always looking after you.
Always putting you first.
So why couldn't your heart just be satisfied.
"You don't look like yourself."
You looked up.
Kimi had appeared beside you almost silently, still wearing part of his race suit around his waist.
"You okay?"
You laughed weakly.
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"
"Only because everyone can tell that you’re not."
He crouched slightly so he was at eye level.
"You look exhausted."
"I've just got a headache and my legs are weak. I'm fine really."
"You don't sound convinced."
You looked away.
"I'm fine."
"You've never been a good liar, have you?"
That made you smile despite yourself.
"When did you figure that out?"
"Cause you’re so bad at it."
There was a pause.
Then he nodded toward the exit to the garage.
"Come on."
"Where?"
"Somewhere quieter."
"I should stay here."
"You've got ten minutes."
"I told Malachi I'd wait."
"And he'll find you."
He offered a small smile.
"I just think you could use some air."
Against your better judgement...you stood.
The noise of the garage faded with every step.
Kimi led you through a quiet corridor that opened into a small viewing balcony overlooking an empty section of the circuit.
"No one ever comes up here. Kind of my own space.”
No cameras.
No mechanics.
Just the distant sound of engines echoing across the track.
A breeze lifted your hair.
You rested your hands on the railing.
"It's peaceful," you admitted.
"I come here when it gets too loud."
You glanced at him.
He shrugged.
"Everyone needs their own space."
For a while neither of you spoke.
Cars flashed past in the distance.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable.
It never had been.
Eventually Kimi spoke.
"You've been avoiding me today."
Your stomach dropped.
"I haven't."
"You have."
He looked at you - not accusingly, just honestly.
"You barely looked at me this morning."
You sighed.
"I've been trying not to."
"Why?"
Because I'm scared of what it means if I don't.
The answer stayed trapped behind your teeth.
Instead you whispered, "Things have gotten...messy."
"The media?"
"Not just the media."
He leaned against the railing beside you.
"I'd never do anything to make your life harder."
"I know."
"I respect you."
"I know."
"I respect your relationship."
You nodded.
"I know."
"So why does it feel like you're saying goodbye to me?"
The question landed harder than you expected.
You swallowed.
"I don't know what I'm doing anymore."
Your voice cracked.
"I love Malachi."
"You do."
"But..."
You closed your eyes.
"I keep thinking about you."
The words hung in the air between you.
Neither of you moved.
Neither of you spoke.
When you finally looked at him, his expression wasn't victorious.
It was conflicted.
"I've tried to not think about you," he admitted quietly.
"I told myself you were happy."
"I was."
"Was?"
"I don't know anymore."
Silence.
Then another step.
Not enough to touch.
Just enough that the space between you suddenly felt impossibly small.
"You should go back," Kimi said, though he didn't move.
"Mhm."
Neither of you did."
His eyes searched yours as if asking one last question he refused to say aloud.
You answered it anyway.
You closed to distance.
The kiss was hesitant.
Careful.
Almost uncertain.
For one heartbeat it was nothing more than two people admitting something they'd both been trying to deny.
Then it deepened.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Just heartbreakingly real.
It only lasted for a few seconds.
You were the first to pull away.
The reality of what had happened crashed over you all at once.
Your breathing hitched.
"Oh my god..."
You stepped back immediately.
"Kimi..."
Your hands flew to your mouth.
"I-I can't..."
He didn't reach for you again.
He simply stood there, looking as shaken as you felt.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
You shook your head before he could take all the blame.
"No."
Your voice trembled.
"No...don't."
Because you kissed him too.
You wanted to.
That was the part that hurt the most.
You thought you'd feel instant regret.
Like you'd made a terrible mistake.
Instead...
You felt guilty.
Heartbreakingly guilty.
But underneath that guilt was something else that you couldn't quite place.
You couldn't pretend you hadn't wanted it.
You couldn't pretend it hadn't felt right.
And that terrified you.
"I have to go."
Kimi nodded once.
"I know."
Without another word, you hurried back though the corridor, wiping quickly at the tears gathering in your eyes.
As you stepped back into the garage, Malachi was walking toward you carrying a bottle of water, a sandwich and a chocolate bar.
"There you are."
He smiled, relieved.
"I was starting to wonder where you'd gone."
You looked at him.
At the man who had left only to make sure you ate something.
The man who trusted you enough to leave you alone.
The guilt hit harder than ever before.
"I just..." Your voice almost failed you. "Needed some air."
A/N: This series is one of my favourites to write. You guys are gonna HATE me in the future cause I might be a little bit evil with some of the ideas I have... hugs and kisses xx
Library // Join the taglist! // More chapters
🌸 THREE WEEKS LATER 🌸
Life settles back into its rhythm.
Malachi is back in the studio.
You're build in editing projects.
Kimi is back on the other side of the world, bouncing from race weekend to race weekend.
The texts however, didn't stop.
Not everyday.
Not even every week.
Just enough to keep the friendship alive.
Sometimes he'd send you a picture from the paddock with a simple, Thought you'd appreciate this.
Sometimes you'd send him a photo of your breakfast at some ridiculous café with the caption, This is criminally overpriced.
It was easy.
Comfortable.
Nothing more.
Which was exactly why you'd never hid it from Malachi.
🌸 MONDAY 🌸
On a Monday afternoon, your phone buzzed.
Kimi:
Sponsor event in LA tomorrow.
Flying home Wednesday.
You and Malachi free for breakfast?
You smiled.
Almost immediately, another message appeared.
My treat this time 😊
You laughed quietly before looking over at Malachi, who was sprawled across the couch scrolling through his phone.
"Baby?"
"Hm?"
"Kimi's in LA for a sponsor thing."
He looked up.
"He asked if we both wanted to go to breakfast on Wednesday."
"You said both?"
He read the messages himself before handing to phone back.
"Yeah," he said after a moment. "Let's go."
🌸 WEDNESDAY MORNING - THE CAFÉ 🌸
The café overlooked a lake, tucked away from the busiest streets.
Or so everyone had thought.
Kimi was already there when the two of you arrived.
He stood the second he spotted you.
"Morning."
You smiled.
"Morning."
Then he turned to Malachi, extending his hand.
"Good to see you again!"
"You too," Malachi replied, shaking it.
The atmosphere was...better.
Not perfect.
But bette.
Breakfast was surprisingly normal.
Kimi asked Malachi about touring.
Malachi asked about racing.
You mostly listened, occasionally laughing whenever one of them made a joke.
For the first time, it felt like they were actually trying.
As the plates were cleared away, Kimi reached into his bag.
"I almost forgot."
He slid two black envelopes across the table.
"What are these?" you asked.
"Invitations."
You frowned before opening yours.
Inside were two paddock passes.
Full weekend access.
Your eyes widened.
"Kimi..."
"Austin next weekend." He smiled.
"I spoke to Mercedes."
You looked back down.
"They'd like both of you there."
Malachi blinked.
"For the whole weekend."
Kimi nodded.
"If you're free."
You looked at Malachi.
He looked at you.
"That's...really generous," he admitted.
Kimi shrugged.
"You both it fun last time."
Your smile was impossible to hide.
"We'd love to come."
Breakfast stretched longer than any of you expected.
Eventually, the three of you stepped outside together.
Malachi's phone rang.
He frowned at the screen
"I've got to take this."
He stepped a few metres away, pacing as he answered.
You stayed beside Kimi.
"So," you asked. "how was the sponsor event?"
He groaned dramatically.
"Six hours of smiling."
You laughed.
"Sounds exhausting."
"It was."
He rolled his eyes.
"I'd rather be in the simulator to be honest."
"I believe that."
He looked at you.
"I'm happy we became friends."
The sincerity caught you off guard.
"So am I."
He smiled - a small one this time.
One that didn't need words.
Neither of you noticed the camera across the street.
🌸 THURSDAY MORNING 🌸
You woke up to your phone on Thursday morning. Vibrating relentlessly.
Messages.
Mentions.
Notifications.
You frowned as you reached for it.
The first text was from your best friend.
GIRL??
Followed by a link.
Then another.
Your stomach sank.
A sports entertainment page had posted a series of photos from outside the café.
One showed the three of you leaving together.
Another showed Malachi on the phone in the background.
The final image...
...was just you and Kimi.
Standing close.
Laughing.
Looking at each other.
The headline made your chest tighten.
IS FORMULA 1'S RISING STAR GETTING CLOSE TO MALACHI BARTONS GIRLFRIEND?
Another article read:
FRIENDSHIP... OR SOMETHING MORE?
You stared in disbelief.
"This is ridiculous," you muttered.
From the bedroom doorway, Malachi looked up from his own phone.
His expression had changed.
Not angry.
Not yet anyways.
Just...worried.
"They're making it into something it isn't," you said quickly.
"I know."
He walked over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"I know."
But even as he said it...
...his eyes lingered on the photo a second longer than they should have.
And somewhere across the world, Kimi's phone was lighting up with the very same headlines.
This is the series that I've had the most interaction with, out of all of the unfinished ones I have written so if you like it please like or give me feedback with any ideas you have!
izzy806
turnnoffyourmind
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
ellievsbear
amandla
