the rush of loving you

dutch lioness

*Marc*

My gaze kept sliding to my cell phone. She hadn't contacted me after that night and I had no idea if she would come here, even though I hoped more than anything. I wanted to see her. 

And if she didn't come, then I would go and see her after the Red Bull hangar party. I knew she lived in Monaco. She got an apartment there after our break up. Alex told me about it. Where exactly I would have to find out, but someone could surely help me. I just wanted to see her. To touch her again.

Her voice alone had reminded me how addicted I had been to her. I had loved her more than anything and needed her. I needed her every day.

Her voice, her smell, her closeness. I had been addicted to it. Addicted to her. And I still was.

And it had only taken that moment of hearing her voice to remember it. Not that I ever really forgot. I had rather suppressed it to be able to bear the pain better. But hearing her voice again, feeling close to her again....

"Marc, here you are!", Leyla entered, unasked, my driver's compartment. It was just one of the many encroachments on her part, which I only tolerated because her father was one of my sponsors and she enjoyed virtually unlimited freedom here.

"This is my driver's room. You can't just come in here," I grumbled, pushing myself up from my chair.

I flipped my notebook closed and was about to make my way to the pit.

"Why? I've seen a lot of people go in here," she smiled sweetly. If she were a cat, she'd be stroking her tail under my chin right now.

"Because I change in here. And the people who come in here knock first," I tried to be polite, but didn't manage it today.

I was so tense anyway. I wanted to get the last three races over somehow well, before I then wanted to attack next season again fully. And then I was still waiting for Liv to show up, not knowing if she would really come, because even if she might come to the race, that didn't mean she would come here. To my pit. And even if she did come to the pits, there was no guarantee that she would talk to me.

I didn't know where we were standing right now, and it made me tense.

The fact that Leyla was now coming into my driver's compartment unasked, and had been crossing lines on and off for weeks and months, didn't make it any better for me.

"Wouldn't be a big deal. I mean..." she took a step closer and opened her eyes extra dramatically "I'd like to see you without the racing suit." she breathed and wanted to run her hand over my chest, but I pushed past her without comment.

I didn't want to freak out, but I couldn't take any more of this either. Had the roles been reversed, I'm sure there would have been a terrible outcry of sexual harassment, but because she was a woman, I just had to endure it.

I hated it and felt harassed again every time, but no matter how much I rebuffed her, she was still back in my box at the next race.

"Marc, wait.", her footsteps followed me as I walked towards the pits.

I could hear the buzz of voices. Loud laughter. And then I heard HER laughter. I would have recognized it anywhere instantly.

My legs made themselves independent and I slid around the corner. She was standing next to Pablo, talking to the crew members who had been in my box in her time. It was as if she had never been away. She started to laugh. I couldn't hear what she was laughing about, but I heard her laugh. I could see her eyes light up. As if struck by a blow, I leaned against the doorframe and just looked at her for a moment. I let that moment sink in. I let her affect me.