One Shots | Formula 1

CS♥

"I couldn't help myself."

As I sat on the plush sofa in my cozy London flat, my eyes were glued to the television screen broadcasting the Spa GP qualifying session. The sound of the roaring engines filled the room, but my mind was far away, tangled in a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts about Carlos.

Carlos and I were a special type of friends—or at least, that's what I kept telling myself. There was something undeniably electric between us, an unspoken tension that simmered beneath the surface whenever we were together. We laughed, we bickered, we shared secrets, but there was always this lingering question mark hanging over our heads: what were we, really?

Before Carlos left for his race in Belgium, we had shared a drunken conversation that had left me more confused than ever. We had been sitting on the balcony of my flat, sipping on cheap wine and watching the city lights twinkle below us. The stars seemed to be spinning above, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

"Carlos," I had started, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "What are we?"

He had turned to look at me, his dark eyes clouded with a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn't quite place. "What do you mean, what are we?"

I had sighed, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "I mean, are we just friends? Or is there something more between us?"

Carlos had been silent for a moment, his gaze searching mine as if trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in my head. "I don't know," he had finally said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But whatever it is, I don't want to ruin it."

And just like that, the conversation had ended, leaving me with more questions than answers. But before we could delve any deeper into the murky waters of our complicated relationship, Carlos had left for Belgium, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a heart heavy with unspoken words.

As I watched the cars zoom around the track on the television screen, I couldn't help but wonder what Carlos was thinking at that moment. Was he thinking about me, about our unfinished conversation? Or was he focused solely on the race, his mind consumed by the adrenaline rush of the competition?

I shook my head, trying to push aside the thoughts that threatened to consume me. There would be time enough to deal with Carlos and our tangled emotions later. For now, I needed to focus on the present, on the excitement of the qualifying session unfolding before me.

But no matter how hard I tried to distract myself, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between us that night on the balcony. And as the cars continued to race around the track, I couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, we would find the courage to finally confront the truth about our feelings for each other.

As the qualifying session progressed, I found myself on the edge of my seat, my heart pounding in my chest with each passing lap. Carlos seemed to be doing great, pushing his car to the limit as he fought for pole position. Every time the TV camera focused on him, my breath caught in my throat, my eyes locked on his car as if willing him to succeed.

And succeed he did. In a breathtaking display of skill and determination, Carlos secured pole position, his name flashing at the top of the leaderboard. I couldn't help but let out a cheer of triumph, my heart swelling with pride for him. But before I could fully revel in his success, my joy turned to horror as I watched his car slam into the pit wall with a sickening thud.

Time seemed to stand still as the seconds ticked by, the TV screen showing nothing but static as the cameras cut away from the crash. I held my breath, my hands trembling with fear as I waited for any sign of Carlos's safety.