As some people laid their heads down to fall asleep in Imola, others were up to get completely and utterly drunk. You just stood at the bar, tapping your card against the wooden top as you waited for your drink to come back. You never liked going out. That was a lie, you liked the whole process of getting dolled up and drinking but when it came to doing the sociable aspects, that's where the problems began. You let out a sigh as this drink was taking a lot longer to make than you'd figured. In all honesty, you'd probably finish the thing in half the amount of time it's taking to get ready. You tensed up as someone walked up to the bar beside you, but was put to ease as he almost completely ignored you.
You continued tapping the card.
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"Are you alright?" You were startled by the British accent coming from beside you. You looked over and saw a man. You didn't pick up on much of his features due to the club being so dark but thanks to the light shining from the bar, you could pick up on a few features. He had strong cheekbones, kind of messed hair and it seemed like he had some nice eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking. How about you?" you asked, trying to be polite. "I'm doing fine. What brings you here?" he continued on. You battled with whether or not you should tell him, just down to you know, personal safety and all that. "I'm visiting but I've lived here before." You lied through your teeth. The mystery man nodded his head. "I love it here. The race track is only a few kilometers away."
"Oh, so you're here for the racing?" you asked. "Course I am." he replied. "I thought it would be obvious." Youu furrowed your eyebrows. "And why would it be so obvious?" you asked. The man smirked over. "Because I'm George Russell darling." You suckered in a sharp breath. "Like...the Williams driver?" He nodded. "Shut tthe fuck up, no way!" George tried to hold in a laugh but failed miserably. "You're not really him, are you?" you asked, still in disbelief. "I am though. Now what would your name be. Surely it will bee as pretty as your face." You sswallowwed a lump in yyourr throat and felt your face warm up which to be completely honest, you didn't know whether it was George orr how stuffy tthe club was. "I- I'm Y/n." Sjee said outstretching her hand. George took it and shook it, laughing at how form al this was.
"You aren't from here, are you?" the brit asked. "No but guessing by your accent you aren't either." You replied without missing a beat. "You guessed correct. I'm British if you didn't know." he said sarcastically. You felt at ease and smiled. "I do love me a Brit." You said suggestively. George choked on his drink. "Well, lucky you, eh?" You laughed a bit and nodded. "Absolutely."
The night continued on and you continued talking to the driver. He looked gorgeous, funny and he was charming. What else could you ask for? After an hour or so, your head started being filled with wild and erotic thoughts. The way George was talking in some moments was just driving you insane. Thankfully, he was thinking near enough the same things about you and with that, one thing led to another and there you were, passionately kissing as George tried to open the door to his hotel room but then, something came across his mind, something important. "Wait, have you had any alcohol?" George asked. "No, not even a little bit. You?" you replied out of breath. "I'm driving tomorrow, I can't have a hangover." he grinned before pushing the door in.
"Good morning gorgeous." George whispered. You were smiling like an idiot until you noticed what had happened. You clenched the sheets and dragged them up over your shoulders, not skin being shown. "What the fuck? I thought you would have been gone by now! O-or I would be awake and gone by now." You stammered. George chuckled and sat down on the bed. "Well I can order breakfast in for you if you'd like?"
"That- you're serious husband material." George burst out laughing. "Well in that case, I guess I have to say I love you to the moon and back." George stood up and walked out to get his phone, leaving you to assemble your clothes and go change in the bathroom. You were halfway done when youu realised something. Your trousers were missing. "George? Where are my trousers?" you asked walking out of the bathroom. "You mean these?" George smirked with a pair of jeans in his hand. "Do you always steal clothes from your one night stands?" you asked snatching then from him. "Only the one's I'd like to see again. In this case, you're the only one." You scoffed playfully. "Should that flatter me?" George shrugged his shoulders. "It should but if you don't feel flattered I'll find another way to flatter you." You raised your eyebrows. "Oh do enlighten me. How?" you grinned, fully invested in whatever he was going to say next.
"Dinner in the hotel restaraunt, seven o clock darling. Don't be late."
