Work Text:
The hotel room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. The curtains were half-drawn, city lights filtering in through the glass. Mikha lay sprawled on the bed, arms folded behind her head, staring up at the ceiling like it owed her answers. The race weekend was over, but the sting of it wasn’t. The racing incident she had 2 days ago still burns in her mind. The near-penalty. The rival’s words echoing in her ears.
Aiah, who’s laying beside her on her phone, watched her girlfriend’s expression carefully. Sulky and grumpy Mikha wasn’t rare, but it always made her chest ache. She wanted to shake her out of it, make her laugh again. And then, as if the universe had handed her the answer, she scrolled across a Tiktok dance. Simple. Catchy. Silly enough to break through that storm cloud sitting on Mikha’s shoulders.
“Gorgeous,” she chirped, turning to Mikha. “Let’s do this.”
Mikha raised a brow without moving her head. “…Do what?”
“This dance!” Aiah shoved her phone in front of her face, screen playing the short clip. “It’s easy. Just follow the beat, a little hand movement here, step there–”
The look on Mikha’s face was priceless. “Aiah. No.”
“Yes!”
“No way.”
Aiah puffed her cheeks, letting out the cutest whine she could muster. “Mikhhhaaaa. Pleaaaase? Just one time. You need it. We need it. We’re homesick, and this is like… just in time since it’s September in a few days. It will cheer you up!”
Mikha groaned, pressing the heel of her palm against her eyes. “You’re insane.”
Aiah leaned closer, eyes wide, lips in a perfect pout. “Puppy eyes. Activated.”
It took all of Mikha’s willpower not to laugh. She turned her head, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her. “Ugh. Fine! Just—make sure it’s easy.”
Aiah’s squeal lit up the room. “YES! I promise. Easy. Fun. Come on, up, up, up!”
Before Mikha could change her mind, Aiah grabbed her hands and pulled her out of bed. The Ferrari driver stumbled but let herself be dragged into the middle of the room.
The first attempts were a mess. Mikha’s steps were stiff, her timing just a little behind the music.
“Left foot, Mikha, not right!” Aiah laughed. “No, no–your hand goes this way. Like this!”
“I am doing it!” Mikha shot back, but her grin was already peeking through, betraying her frustration.
“Okay, again. From the top.”
They tried again and again, Mikha tripping over the rhythm, Aiah giggling until her stomach hurt. Eventually, somewhere between the twelfth retry and Mikha’s exaggerated groan of “I hate this,” something shifted. The sulkiness cracked. A faint smile broke out. Then a chuckle. Then full-blown laughter when Aiah messed up her own steps and fell into Mikha’s arms.
“See?” Aiah said breathlessly, cheeks pink from laughing. “You’re having fun.”
“Don’t push it,” Mikha teased, but her grin betrayed her.
When they finally nailed the dance, they propped Aiah’s phone against a lamp and hit record. The music played, and they moved, playful, a little awkward but endearing. Mikha even added a tiny flourish at the end, pointing dramatically at Aiah, which earned her a delighted squeal.
They collapsed back onto the bed, watching the video together. On the small screen, Mikha didn’t look sulky anymore. She looked… light. Like herself again.
“That’s actually cute,” Mikha admitted grudgingly. Then, more seriously: “But don’t post it anywhere! I’m not a good dancer.”
Aiah gasped. “Excuse me? Miss Ferrari Superstar actually has some moves. Look at that point at the end that was smooth!”
Mikha groaned into the pillow. “Stop. Just AirDrop it to me, and remember: do. not. post.”
Aiah smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Mmm, I’m not promising anything. I like showing my cool girlfriend off.”
Mikha lifted her head, narrowing her eyes. “…Aiah.”
“What?” Innocent smile.
“Don’t you dare.”
Aiah leaned over, planting a kiss on her cheek. “No promises.”
And just like that, Mikha’s gloom had lifted. Replaced with the warmth of laughter, the glow of Aiah’s mischief, and the quiet comfort of home, even miles away from it.
📱 Despite Mikha’s firm reminder, the video appears on Aiah’s TikTok and Instagram late at night with the caption:
“September is around the corner! The Filipinas may not be at home, but you can’t take away the christmas spirit from us!
Hope our little video cheers you up as much as it cheered my very cool girlfriend 🥰”
The cute video definitely blew up and garnered comments, to which Aiah smiles while reading through it all.
Tiktok comments:
@gridchaos
Some drivers: throw helmets when they’re mad after a race
Mikha Lim: does a TikTok dance with her gf 💀 balance in the universe
@dinochan
bro i swear mikha looked like she’d rather have alonso yelling at her again at first 😭😭😭
@ML8truther
Stewards have reviewed the footage.
Conclusion: Mikha Lim is guilty… of being ADORABLE.
@scuderiacore
me: worried about Mikha’s mood all week 🥺
also me after the video: giggling, kicking my feet, twirling my hair
Instagram comments:
charles_leclerc : finally some moves, mikha 👀💃
lilymhe : PLEASE POST MORE this is gold 😭
yukitsunoda0511 : I give that dance… 7/10. Need more practice.
alex_albon : better dancer than me, tbh
jennierubyjane : ok but the chemistry >>> 🫶
Bonus!
Another race weekend had just wrapped up, and Mikha was seated alongside two other drivers in the post-race press conference, finishing P3. She wore her usual cool, collected expression, the kind that screamed “don’t mess with me”.
The questions flowed: strategy choices, tire degradation, overtakes. Mikha answered them with sharp, professional precision.
Then, a hand shot up from the middle row of journalists.
“Uh, Mikha, not exactly about today’s race… but I think the whole internet’s seen it by now. That TikTok dance your girlfriend posted, care to comment? Should we expect more of those in the future?”
The entire room chuckled. Lando Norris, who is seated next to her, unable to resist, let out a laugh loud enough to make Mikha side-eye him.
Mikha’s lips pressed into a thin line. She leaned into the mic, deadpan:
“…I was blackmailed.”
The room erupted. Cameras flashed, reporters laughed, the other drivers snorted into their water bottles.
Mikha sighs, giving the tiniest smile , “Let me clarify. Aiah begged, whined, and gave me puppy eyes. I stood no chance. So yes, I did the dance. But no, you won’t see me on TikTok every week. That was… a one-time thing.”
Max, who’s suppressing a giggle, chimes in.
“One-time thing until she convinces you again.”
Mikha gave the world champion a pointed look,
“Don’t give her ideas.”
The press room laughed again, and though Mikha shook her head, the little smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her.