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Thank you so much for Charona for making Thunder and lightning! Until now i haven't fully deal with the remaining feelings over your fanfiction. As once again, this fic cannot be properly read without reading the fic that this fic based the universe on to (i made it sounds confusing but!!!), i strongly suggest to read Thunder and lightning first! and join me to the desperation over painful but beautiful Maxiel story there!
Once again, credits of this fic universe goes to Charona, and enjoy reading! Hope you like it! :///// (It's official this emoji is invented only for Thunder and lightning)
Max wants to blame the sole habit that keeps budging him for the last year, or probably two long years already. Max also wants to blame to the continuous affections and cares that he’d been receiving, which on the other side, he’s not sure if he did deserve any of that. No, he knew he doesn’t deserve it. After everything he’s done.
To a single sunshine that if Max ever got a chance, or even forced back to be a toddler, that most likely would be much more honest than his current self, he would admit that he matters to him. More than words.
Where habits are one of the things that are really hard to be reversed, words and actions are obviously also ones. No matter how much times he spent, how many seconds he passes through only for himself thinking, thinking and thinking again, over the best solution that he’s always seek for the past year. For the finish line of his story—their story, that he craved so bad to know, just for the sake that he can move on, and uses those magical, dreadful words: focus on his career. And for all those times he spent on thinking, discussing with the dark side of his mind, making sure that his decision is indeed well-prepared, baked with certainty and accuracy, the hidden regret feeling stays. Bugging him in times when he would like them to not to.
Maybe it was because he took it for granted after some time passes. All the attempts Daniel possess and pushed on Max, all the chase Daniel diligently and reliably did for Max, and all the begs, all the pleads, all the wishes Daniel had thrown to Max—for Max to just simply reply, now finally builds up side by side with those regrets. All of those things seemed like they become a physical entity, bugging Max’s daily life that reminds him it’s now gone for good. Because all of those things seemed like had become a single habit appearing in Max life, that once it’s gone, it felt so real upon their absence.
The first morning that Max didn’t found any bugging message from Daniel sent a small shiver to his body, just a small one. But enough to slap him away that the habit has stopped, that the usual continuous routine has stopped. Max had been used to upon ignoring those texts, and calls, that now he has no any text to ignore to begin with. It sent him back to the state of mind when he himself stood in a balcony, minds clouded with self-hating and misery. When the actual sunshine existed there only reminded him of what he had just done.
It sent him back to the state of mind where all he can remember from Daniel are only the sets of his broken voices, his pained expressions, and desperation.
As time passes, it goes then when he saw Daniel for the first time in another team. Wrapped in bright yellow, still ever the same with his trademark smile, except now Max wanted to laugh in agony to the fact that now he has no right to make any joke of Daniel being an actual sunshine with those wraps up.
The steely face, the seriousness, and a part of blankness that Max needed to show was no big deal for himself. Hell, he's been trained for this for years. But when all of these things getting piled up in weeks long, in months long, it made him nothing but surer, that the cost he’s paying is too massive.
When Daniel passed him without a single glance, he’s been prepared for that. This is what he wants at the end, or so that’s what he wished for all those times he had pushed Daniel away. Making himself sure that Daniel was completely hating him. Max has also been prepared for the fact that Daniel may just be a usual self in public, goofy, fun, cannot stay still, but when he saw those stupid dance playing on reply in one of video that appears in his social media timeline, he didn’t know he holds breaths. And finally released them when the video ended. Max also didn’t realize he had pressed the small symbol indicating a repeat button upon his phone screen, for six times already.
Maybe Max should be proud, that it takes days, weeks, months for him to be finally at this moment. That it took him podiums to pass, good and bad weekends of his continuous racing career, to finally let another drop of alcohol completes the limit break of his metabolism. That his phone now seemed so close to reach, and a name he never forgets seemed so easy to remember. That the letter D is solemnly his favorite letter.
It went to a mailbox, but Max didn’t care a thing. The last bit of his drunk state gave him the absoluteness for his next action that his sober state would be damned if they knew.
The voice.
Gosh, how long has it been? Since the last time Max hears that crispy filled with warmth, cheerfulness, and… familiar voice.
That Max current self will never want to admit he’d unconsciously miss them for every of his passed mornings.
“It’s Daniel, leave a message will ya”
There are seconds of silences that Max processed through until his first very word to the Australian’s mailbox merged.
“Daniel… Dan…” And then Max suddenly choked, that leads into several coughs building up and exploding his throat, and vaguely turns into a weak sob. But he’s still got the remaining energy to continue. And now, the red end-call button seemed so out of reach.
“...don’t leave.”
It has been months and it has passed seasons too. And probably Daniel grows, despite the mature age he’s been wearing upon his sleeve for a while, and he grows and diverges, to any new possibilities in front of him. If it was his self from few months before, he might surrender himself to the message notification on his phone screen. If it was his self before the truth Max had harshly performed in front of him, he might run towards his phone like it was the only significant thing in his life.
If he was his self before his resolution, he would gladly receive the mailbox with open arms.
But the expressive eyes that used to translate every feelings he got towards the Dutchman had stopped coexist. The eyes now only showed a slight unamused look—almost didn’t gesture any changes, nor with his expression. It shows only plain, blank, and bland, you named it. And his thumb swipes away the message, continuing pressing the delete button faster than his current car.
And the prescribed salad (if there’s such a thing, but his trainer managed to surpass his expectation like always) on top of his small dining table, beside the large window of his suite, looked much more interesting than whatever his notification trays showed him seconds before.
Then Daniel’s day went by, slowly and full of routines, wiping away the last bit of his previous memories that probably already gone anyway. Max was no longer planted in his subconscious, where he used to memories everything related to the man outside of his head. M was no longer his favorite letter, he even wouldn’t spare any single second to think whether it used to be his favorites or not.
There are so much things out there that will gladly, voluntarily, and without a doubt work their hardest to make him happy. There are many people out there for him to love and love him as much as he could deliver.
It was not worth it, once again Daniel replanted the words upon his mind. Until it becomes one with it and submerged with every neurons that it has.
It was not worth it, just like you told me it isn’t.