Formula Racing Imagines And Preferences

✨Pierre Gasly - Meeting In Paris

Sun rays shine on my warm breath as I walk out into the crisp air of Paris. It was beautiful during the winter and for me, it was a bit more romantic. Romance wasn't exactly a thing I particularly had on my mind I mean, the idea of it was beautiful but I could only ever imagine what it felt to fall in love because I'd always messed it up somehow. I plunge my hands into my pockets to protect them from the cold and walk with my mouth snuggled into my scarf. I come up to my favourite coffee shop that I go to everyday and see a group of four talking amongst themselves. One in particular seemed to just stare at me but I didn't really mind or care for that matter. I walk into the cafe and sit down, taking off my coat and taking my laptop from my bag. I order and receive my coffee and finish off work I had for school that was due and look out to the Eiffel Tower.

My work is interrupted by the man from outside coming and sitting down at my table with two coffees. I give a blank expression and continue, not giving him the satisfaction of acknowledgment. "Hey. Do you mind if I sit here?" I shake my head as he sits down and places a coffee in front of me. "I thought I'd get you a coffee for interrupting whatever it is you are doing." I look up with a confused look but still taking the coffee because hey, it's free. "Erm. Thanks?" I sip on it and let out a quiet yelp. "Christ. Thats hot." he chuckles. "Why are you here at my table?" I ask in curiosity. "I was sitting outside and you caught my eye. My friend snoticed and told me to come in and talk to you on my own free will or they would drag me in and embarrass me and I'd much rather the first option." I look out the window and see three guys watching on. When they cop that I was looking at them, they wave, smile and begin laughing. "Who are you all? I have for sure seen you all somewhere before." I ask him. I'm sure I've seen them in some magazines or newspapers or somewhere but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"We drive cars fast. That's it." he says. "I mean, Esteban is the exception but we drive cars." I laugh guessing it must have been a joke or something. "So what do you drive in anyway?" I was growing more and more curious. It sounded very interesting. "I drive in formula one. I'm a French driver and my name is Pierre Gasly. Those guys out there are Charles, Lance and Esteban. Charles lives in Monaco and Esteban lives here. Lance is Canadian but speaks French so we hang out with him too." I nod. "And why are you all in Paris?" "We have pre season testing next week and we wanted to road trip down instead of fly. We don't hang out as often as we like because we are obviously driving cars when we are anywhere near each other and so we are busy." There was a little silence that grew but he quickly stopped it.

"So what can you tell me about yourself?" he asked. "Erm. My name is Y/n. I study dance and I live here-" he cuts me off. "You study dance? Why are you doing an essay on dance?" I try to find a way to explain it easy. "Just continue. It seems as though its a long explanation and I'd prefer getting to know you better." He says making me smile a little. "Where was I? Oh yes. I live here but I was born in England. I moved here when I was twelve I think." "Nice. So you speak French fluently?" He asked. "Of course." I check my watch and lack up some things. "Sorry to cut our little meeting short but I need to go. I have places to be."

"Could I at least get your number or Instagram or something? Just to keep in touch." I smile and grba a notebook and pen. I write my number, Instagram and Snapchat done and hand it to him. "And how will I know its you?" I ask him. "The blue tick beside my name." I nod. He stands up and stretches his hand out for me to shake it. I deny his handshake and hug him instead. "We're basically friends now so why with the formalities?" He hugged back and agreed. "I will text you or call you or something. I'll make sure of it." I smile as he opens the door for me to exit. The distinct chattering of Pierre's friends outside stop and they just look on. "It was nice talking to you today." I say walking away. "I'll call you!" he said as I walked away. "I look forward to it. See you!" "Bye!"

I walk on but a loud cheer makes me turn around to see what was happening. "Yes mate! You got her number! You are in there!" one of his friends shouted while the others laughed hysterically. Pierre looked on horrified. He caught me looking back and waved so I returned the favour and waved back with a pitiful smile before returning back to what I was doing and walking back to school, with one thing still vibrant in my head. Pierre Gasly.