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Summary
"What are you doing here Max", the room was cold even with the calefactor on, the chilly feeling slipping through the cotton of his sweater and making the hair of his nape stand up.
"Can you get off me? I cannot hold a conversation while looking at the floor", said Max exasperatingly, not answering to the question, his hips trying to wiggle free from the hold.
The person over him just hummed uncommittally, their grip strengthening around his wrists, the cold floor of the hotel's room digging into the tender flesh of his wrists, "nah I don't think so", the lack of interest on the man's voice made the blond's nerves itch, "why don't you now explain us what were you doing here Verstappen? I can call security. A RedBull driver in a Ferrari's room, it would make some good headlines", Max was tempted to smash his head against the hard woodfloor and get a concussion, because of fucking course Carlos and Charles had to enter the room just in time for his escape.
All thanks to Lando and his horrible ideas.
Series
- Part 2 of Down Boy!