harper

You were procrastinating in bed when you got the memo.

Lorena invites you to her 40th birthday party! was written in golden letters in a digital invitation.

Lori was your best friend, but she was also Edoardo's wife, which wouldn't be a problem, unless he wasn't your ex's, Fernando Alonso, best friend.

You and Fernando had broken up a few months ago, things had been tough for him at Aston Martin and he ended up things saying he couldn't go on with this. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

You thought about not going, making up excuses and rotting in bed for the entire weekend, but it was Lori, and there was nothing she wouldn't do for you. Trying not to overthink things too much, you accept the invitation, and that's how you find yourself at their house in Tuscany, the one with a few bungalows and climbing vines.

Needless to say, Lorena was a party animal, so it wasn't a surprise to you when she told you the party would last a whole weekend. You sighed, that meant more days having to look Fernando in the face, and honestly, you weren't ready for that, but you were also looking forward to spending time with her after so long.

Gladly, he first night was a success. The gathering had taken place outside, where they hung up fairy lights on the trees and put on a few wooden tables around the yard. Lorena called it a "Cocktail Welcoming Party".

She and Edoardo had managed to keep you and Fernando away from each other's paths and you relaxed, even if for a bit. But sometimes, when Lorena was distracted, you would look his way, and you'd find himself already staring at you, cigar between his fingers as he sipped on his scotch, mountain range stretching in front of him. You'd look away, bewildered. That happened a few times that night, and although no words were said, the looks he gave you somehow spoke louder than words ever could.

At the end of the night, everyone was drunk, but you were so exhausted you went to bed. That night, you dreamt of a better time with Fernando. That was, of course, until you were woken up in the middle of the night by screams.

"I have to tell her, Edo!" the man seemed desperate, slurring on his words.

"Fer, please. It's 4am. Let her rest, let it go." That was Edoardo, and by the name, you thought the other man had to be Fernando. Your Fernando, the one you were celebrating a win with in your head just a few minutes ago.

You froze, incapable of moving. You were so drunk you swore you were hallucinating, but it was all real. You hear one of them sniffing, and then Edo's voice.

"Come on, Fer. Let's get you to bed."

And just like that, their steps became more inaudible by the second, until the sniffing stopped, leaving you there wondering what had even happened. What was the thing Fernando had to tell you? Why did he sound so desperate? Wasn't he.. fine?

The thoughts kept you awake for another long hour, until you fell asleep over the tear soaked sheets.

The morning came in the blink of an eye, and you decided to keep yourself busy to not think about whatever the hell had taken place outside your bungalow yesterday. Getting up, you get yourself ready and make your way to the house's kitchen, where you find your best friend.

"Morning, party pooper." Lorena says, not looking up from her newspaper as she sipped on a cup of coffee.

"Good morning to you too." You roll your eyes, filling up your teacup with the coffee she had made earlier. "And I'm not a party pooper."

You rest on the marble sink, Lorena in the front of you sitting on a stool in the kitchen island.

"So you didn't went to bed early yesterday?" She looks up, and you see her eyes above the papers.

"Sorry, Lori, the trip killed me. I promise I won't leave your side today."

She rolls her eyes, smiling. "No, you won't."

You laugh and walk around the island, standing behind Lorena to hug her. She retributes and you kiss her cheek.

"Where's Edo? Haven't seen him today."

You sit by her side, resting your teacup on the marble. She sighs, ironically.

"Went to town with Fernando. They couldn't shut up about a surprise for tonight."

The mention of Fernando's name makes every single sound you heard last night come back to you in lightspeed. You close your eyes for a second. Lorena doesn't notice it.

"Right. Speaking of today, what are the plans?"

"Sleepover! Just like the old days." Lorena says, and you're reminded of the sleepovers you used to have when you were younger. Nights spent watching horror movies and eating gummies, easier times.

Although you were terrified of sleeping in the same room as Fernando again after months, you couldn't help but be excited for Lori. You hadn't been close to her like this in ages, and it felt good knowing that even after all this time, you were still best friends.

You set your teacup on the counter, next to the sink, and Lori invites you for a dip. You, her and a few of her other friends spend the day laughing, drinking, tanning and playing water games all day. It was all you needed. Without Fernando nearby, specially after yesterday, you felt like you could wind down, and you managed to spend the afternoon without thinking about him too much.

The night came soon, and everyone said their goodbyes as they went to their bangalows to get ready. You took your time relaxing in the bathtub and doing a face mask, which caused you to arrive fashionably late at the gathering in your David Bowie pajamas, the most presentable one you had.

Fernando was already there, of course. His pajama of choice was an old Ferrari shirt - which he probably found between the pile of things he left at Edo's - and linen pants. He glances at you, and then down.

Edoardo is dressed pretty much the same, except his Ferrari shirt has a different logo on it, which meant it was not from the same year as Fernando's. Lorena is.. well, Lorena. She's gorgeous, and she's glowing in an silk La Perla pajama set Edoardo had gotten for tonight, probably the surprise she had talked about earlier. They were all laughing, eating popcorn and waiting for you to join them to start the movie. You greeted everyone and sat by Lori's side.

The first movie chosen was a horror movie, which, knowing Lori, was no surprise. She was always a big fan of creepy stuff, much to Edo's dismay, he was terrified of it, and you could see him almost having a heart attack next to a smiley Fernando.

You tried not to stare too much, you didn't want to start a fight out of the blue for whatever reason, but you felt on edge, like you were going to burst at anytime. It was too much, too soon, too close..

You get closer to Lori's ear and excuse yourself to go to the kitchen, you needed a break. She nods and you get up, Fernando stares at your back, but you don't notice it.

After a few minutes sitting on the kitchen floor staring at the empty oven, you get up for a glass of water. As the liquid reaches the cup, a voice startles you.

"If I had known you were here, I wouldn't have come."

You sigh.

Great, just what you needed.

You could tell it was him even if he hadn't said a thing, his scent gave it away. You don't notice you're frozen in place until the water overflows, and you quickly turn off the drinking fountain.

"You can still leave, nobody's stopping you."

There's not enough courage to look at him in the eye, yet.

"I won't. I'm here to have fun and I will."

"Then stop complaining." you snap, turning around and finally facing him. Wrong decision.

Standing there, in front of you, illuminated only by the light of the moon and the refrigerator's screen, leaning on the kitchen island with his arms crossed, was Fernando. His hair was ruffled and his cheeks reddish from laughing too much at Edo earlier. He looked beautiful, not that that needed to be stated.

He rolls his eyes, but you can tell he was hurt by your harshness.

"I wasn't complaining, I just.." he stops himself and shifts on his feet. "It's hard not to think about the past looking at you."

"Fernando, please." You roll your eyes in irony, looking down as you itched your forehead.

You turn around and start organizing things that didn't need to be organized in that moment - a habit you developed with anxiety. You can hear his breathing and it's overwhelming. He stares at you, admiring your beauty and yearning over the way you were so close, yet so far.

He couldn't help but think about the past, and you could feel his penetrating gaze on you, a swarm of memories filling your mind.

"Not my fault if you're as beautiful as ever. It's not fair, really."

"You don't have the right to say those things, Fernando."

Your back is still facing him, incapable to look at him. Your eyes wander to the clock above your head, it's three a.m.

He gets up and gets closer, making you freeze. You can feel his presence behind you, he gets closer until his chest is almost touching your back, just close enough that he can feel your perfume. He breathes in, and you get goosebumps.

"Why not? If we were once a couple.." He says, mouth close to your ear.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. His presence there was too much, his scent intoxicating and the heat of his body everything you wanted to give in to but couldn't.

"Yeah, until you broke up with me."

He closes his eyes, lightly resting his chin over your shoulders.

"I know, I was an idiot. I'm sorry.." you sigh. He had said it a few times before, but this time it felt.. genuine? "I thought you wouldn't be able to keep up with the pace of.. well, everything. I didn't want you to come home to an empty house, to be forced to be alone even when you were in a bad spot just because I was away.. I couldn't do that to you."

"That wasn't your decision to make." you open your eyes, trying to keep your feet on the ground.

"I know, and I see that very clearly now. You're stronger than I am, and maybe that's the problem. I'm the one who was never capable of keeping distance from you."

You feel your heart skip a beat, even more when you feel his big, warm, calloused hands hugging your uncovered belly. His chest was now glued to your back, and you feel the need to grip the marble to steady yourself.

His beard brushes against your skin, making you shiver. You close your eyes again, gripping the marble harder. His voice was so soft and calming it's like he could guide you through any situation. Fernando's embrace was like going home.

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "But it happened. It happened."

He tightens his grip on your hips, like he was afraid you'd run away.

"I know it did. It hurts me as much as it does you. There's not a single day I haven't regret that."

Your body feels so hot it's like you'll blow up at any minute, but you're incapable of moving. Refusing Fernando's touch after so long seemed like a nightmare you weren't willing to go through.

"Stop it." You shoot your eyes open."You have no idea what I've been through."

He's still glued to you, chest against your back, hands on your belly and hips, gripping it gently, trying to keep you still.

"I know I've been an asshole.." He pauses, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, while his hands caress your skin. "but I want to make things right, even if just for the night."

"You have no idea what I went through the past few months, Fernando." You turn around, finally looking him in the eyes, feeling a tear running down your cheek.

His face drops, and his thumbs meet your face to wipe the tear. "I can go away if that's what you'd like.." He smiles, sadly. "But.. you really think those past few months were easy to me? You're all I think about, Y/N."

You don't respond. Instead, you free yourself from his touch and turn your attention to the clock again, back facing him. 3:27am. Lorena's probably asleep if she hasn't come to check up on you.

Fernando leans against the counter, crossing his arms. He watches you attentively. He's sad and there's no reason to hide it anymore.

"Can I ask you something?"

You sigh and nod.

"I need to know if you too hasn't been able to get over us."

You close your eyes, licking your lips.

"I don't have to answer that." You turn to him.

His eyes are still fixed on you, like they were never anywhere else.

"At least answer this.." He ruffles a hand through his hair. "Do you still love me?"

You close your eyes for a moment, sighing.

"Isn't it obvious, Fernando?" It was, to everyone. Except him.

"I still need to hear you say it." he pushes.

"Yes." you don't think before answering, just blurt it out.

His face lights up in the blink of an eye, and he looks surprised as he tries to get closer to you again.

"That's all I needed to hear." He laughs, sadly. "You have no idea how many nights I woke up, out of the blue, because I had heard your laugh in my dreams." He cracks a smile. "I thought that if I was quiet enough, I could hallucinate it, and that would be enough. A hallucination of you would be enough, because it's still you, you'd be there, in my arms." His voice cracks, you don't want him to cry. "I haven't forgotten you, Y/N."

He sniffs, hugging you tightly, and you do the same, because it's your Fernando. The heat of his body enveloping you like it used to, there it was, your safe place. You rest your chin on his shoulder and his arms hold you like it's the last time they ever will.

He cups your face, his eyes glowing with tears, and pulls you closer, just enough for your foreheads to touch.

"I'm so sorry for everything. I've missed you so much.."

"I've missed you too, Fer." you laugh amidst tears, and his heart skips a beat at the nickname he hadn't heard in so long.

You breathe deeply, letting his scent invade your nostrils and make its way into your heart, from where it should've never left.

There, in Fernando's arms, you felt like you hadn't felt in months.

"Fer?"

"Yes?" he opens his eyes.

"What did you need to tell me yesterday night? You know.. when you were outside my bungalow."

He laughs, embarrassed.

"You heard that.."

You smile. "Yeah.. I did."

He looks at you, taking all of you in. He felt so unbelievably lucky.

"I.."

He gets closer, mouth next to your ear, and whispers "Love you."

You cup his face, laughing as you roll your eyes. He stares, again, like you're the most perfect thing to ever exist, and cups your face, kissing your forehead, your cheeks and, finally, your lips.

And it felt so sweet, so right, like going home after so long and being welcomed by so many good memories. The beginning of yet another chapter of your lives.

In your first year as the first female F1 driver, you had done the impossible. Standing on the 1st place of the Monaco Grand Prix podium, adrenaline pumping through your veins, you looked down at everyone who had ever doubted you. Years of resisting attacks, sexist remarks and the constant need to prove yourself, you felt like you could finally breathe. By your side, stood two of the greatest drivers the sport had ever seen, Lewis Hamilton, your teammate, in P2, and Max Verstappen, in P3.

Your eyes wandered through the vast crowd that chanted your name from below, searching for the man who had made it all possible, your boss, Torger Wolff, the first person who took you seriously. Being a woman with hopes of getting into Formula One was exhaustingly hard, but everything started to change when you won the F3 Championship, a few years ago.

Paul, your teammate at the time, had told you that a certain team principal would come to the race that day, and although you kept telling yourself to not get your hopes up, every single attempt to do so went downhill when you saw the Mercedes team principal walking through the paddock like he owned the place.

To you, Mercedes was everything. Besides being one of the most modern teams, you also realized soon enough that Toto was probably the most open-minded out of all the other TPs on the grid. It was sad, of course, having such a little percentage of people who would be happy to see a woman in a position that was so dominated by men, but still, it lit up a flame in your chest, a string of hope you clung onto whenever you felt like giving up your dream.

That day, with him on the bleachers as you drove fearlessly around Spa-Francorchamps, you won the F3 championship, putting you on a watchlist of drivers that could get into F2.

Ever since that day, the austrian had kept an eye on you.

He saw how fiercely you fought to have a place, to have a voice and to be heard in a space ever so dominated by the opposite sex, and it didn't scare him, not one bit, he admired it. When you stood on that podium earlier, he didn't even bother hiding a smile, taking pictures and videos and chanting your name with the rest of the team as Lewis and Max sprayed the ridiculously expensive champagne on your back as you laughed.

That's why today, hours after winning your first ever F1 race on your first year in the category, he still couldn't get off the high he was on. He had finally gotten the confirmation he so desperately needed, not because he didn't believe you could do it, but because he was eager to prove everyone else wrong, to rip the smugness out of every single man who told you you didn't belong there.

At least that's what he had told you earlier through the radio before the lights went out, prove them wrong. He just didn't know you fought to reprimand a sob as you tried to concentrate in the lights that stood just above the Albert 1st Boulevard.

Now, Toto's eyes scanned every single corner of Jimmy'z searching for you, only to find you on the dance floor, pornstar martini in hand as you swayed to the beats of Empire of The Sun's We Are The People.

You had a smile on your face that could lit up a whole room, and he couldn't be prouder. Soon enough, your eyes met his and you chuckled, making a peace sign to point at your eyes and then at his as the line got lost in your eyes blasted through the club's speakers.

Even at distance, you could see him rolling his eyes and chuckling at your playful gesture, but still, he came closer, until the only thing in his field of vision was the visibly drunk version of you.

"You look happy." he leans down and forward to yell in your ear, making himself heard even if though the loud music made it hard to.

You squirm at the proximity, but brush it off by taking another sip of your drink. "I'm on top of the world, Toto. I don't think I've ever been happier." You yell back and he resists the urge to fight back a smile, presenting you with his pearly whites.

As one of the neon lights hit your face, he's forced to take in all of you. The version of you you'd put up whenever he'd tell you he had an important meeting he needed you to attend, or whenever you were needed to put up a show, like today.

You wore a black strapless dress, the one you'd seen a few weeks prior to the Grand Prix at Elie Saab's display window while you were on your daily night walk through Monaco. It was mesmerizing, with a shimmery type of fabric that would definitely make sparks fly if a bright light shined over it. You had thought of buying it, for days, really, but decided against it because party dresses were never a much needed piece of clothing in your wardrobe. Well, that until you told Lewis about the dress, and when you arrived at your apartment a few hours after the race, there it was, on a hanger hanging on the curtain rods.

As much as your looks prevented Toto from thinking about anything else, he couldn't help but notice how huge your pupils were, so big that it felt like your iris' were long gone. That and the fact that your sclera had shifted from white to a more reddish color.

He shifted on his feet, unaware of how to proceed. Were you.. high? Was that even a thing between sportspersons? Deciding on it being a matter that shouldn't be handled in front of the city's most congested place as of today, he mutters a "come with me" in your ear, putting a hand on your lower back as he guided you away from the crowd.

When he finally stops, you find yourself in a more private, smaller room with a few sofas and armchairs. He then proceeds to ask you "You've taken something. What is it?"

You laugh at his sudden concern. The answer was clearly a big red yes written in all caps, but part of you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed at yourself. You had done it, yes, but now you felt sort of guilty, because the last thing you wanted was to damage his or the team's image. You shake your head, trying to to keep those thoughts away. It was just a party, a party for you, with only selected people being allowed in, it wasn't like you'd wake up to your name on the news.

"Come ooon.. don't be such a party pooper!" You slurred.

Toto was shocked by your reaction, part of him wanted you to celebrate as you wished, after all, you had just fulfilled a dream, but the other part, the responsible boss part craved an explanation, he didn't want you to cause any harm to your already fragile media image.

"Are you serious? You're the star of the entire team today! We have thrown a party just for you and you're getting off on drugs?" He says, lowering his voice on the last word as he crosses his arm.

"It's just a blunt, Toto. I swear I'm fine." Your laugh echoes throughout the small room as you grab his big arms, uncrossing them. "Don't get so serious on me." You look up at him through your lashes.

Toto gives you a stern look before a smirk creeps up on his face. The anger and seriousness fades away in an instant as he realizes the situation wasn't that serious. He sighs and looks at you with a sly, yet curious look. "How many? One, right?"

"Just one, sir." You say mischievously, holding your pinky finger up before kissing it to symbolize a promise.

Toto is taken aback as you kiss your pinky finger in a sarcastic manner, although he doesn't say anything. He looks at you with the same sly look as before. "I see... and have you done this before?"

"Who hasn't, duh?" You furrow your brows, flashing him a backward smile.

'He hasn't, of course. That's Torger Wolff we're talking about' you think to yourself as you look up at him. The soreness of your muscles and the pain of being on your feet for so long getting to you.

Sometimes it was kind of annoying having a conversation with your boss due to the fact that you had to look up the entire time, and countless were the times you found yourself with neck pain after hours of chatting. This conversation would surely be added to that imaginary countless list of yours, because even today, with high heels that could make you look six feet tall, he still looked way too big.

Toto chuckles before getting a playful look on his face. "Oh, really? I highly doubt the star of my F1 team has ever smoked a blunt before, although you do seem very knowledgeable about this." He moves closer to you, looking down at you as he speaks, his voice low and husky. You wondered if his neck ever went through the same problem yours did when you two talked, causing you to chuckle.

"I do?" You lift one eyebrow, narrowing your eyes. "Well, I must say.. the star of your precious F1 Team has done a lot, Mr. Wolff." It comes off more flirtatious than you intended, but you pay no mind to it. You try to take a step back, but end up slipping on the hem of your gown, the high getting to you later than ever.

Toto immediately rushes to you and catches you mid-air, wrapping his arms around your torso.

"Is that so?" Toto says, his voice now raspy and face close to yours.

You exhale deeply, relief from not having made an absolute mess out of yourself filling your body. If you had fallen, your dress would probably be completely torn apart and headlines would have a field trip with it.

He is still holding you, his hands burning on your back.

"Yeah.." You close your eyes, getting away from Toto's embrace as you regain balance and straighten yourself.

Toto steps back as you do so, although he does want to reach out to hold you again. Instead, he settles for engaging on more double entendre conversations with you.

His eyes are full of admiration, your body is more visible in this dress than it has ever been, and he makes a mental note to thank Lewis for the gift. He recalls the moment you two shared a few minutes ago, the way you swayed and jumped with the music like you were the only person in that dance floor would never fail to amaze him.

"You truly do look like a notorious celebrity in this dress, don't you?" He finally says, a hint of shyness in his tone, although the look in his face is stern.

"You could thank your other driver for that." You joke, trying to hide the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach.

"I certainly will." he smiles, his gaze softening as his eyes meet yours. They're still red, but it starts to grow on him.

Looking at you like this, completely wasted, happy and carefree, he couldn't help but remember the afternoon you two had met, when he started to be so sure you'd be by his and Lewis' side on a race weekend one day.

Now, there you were, in front of him, with a trophy standing somewhere back in your apartment. "I'm so proud of you." he finally says, not because he thinks you should hear it, but because it's all he wants to say to you after today's events.

You look away from him shyly. You had heard it before, specially from him, but every single time felt like fireworks in your belly. Him being proud of you was capable of putting you on a whole another level, it was just another signal that you had made it, that you had proved you were capable, even to those who were always so sure you definitely were.

You try to hide a smile as you mutter a simple thank you, because in this state, visibly high and drunk, staring at the man who had made it all possible, it's all you manage to say.

He smiles back at you, and your mind almost short circuits when he steps closer, not stopping even when you can feel his breath close to your face. That's when you realize he's about to hug you, and you just let him.

It's genuine, simple yet abnormally meaningful. His big hands rest crossed on your lower back as he pulls you closer, making your cheeks rest on his suit covered chest. You almost feel like crying, because how could you not? You had it all now, a place in the sport you so desperately craved to have since you were a kid, a win, an amazing teammate and an even more amazing boss, who believed in you through your entire career.

"You've done it." He says quietly as if you're a wild animal that would run away at any abrupt movement or sound. "I can't even imagine how you feel."

On cloud nine, that was the most appropriate answer.

"It's like nothing I've ever felt." you say, arms hugging his chest. "Thank you for always believing in me, you have no idea how much you've done for me." you sniff, clearly on the verge of tears.

"It's nothing compared to what you deserve. You're one of the greats, Y/N. The whole world's gonna know you name." he says, causing the tears you so eagerly fought to keep off to fall rapidly on your cheeks. You sniff, opening your eyes to see that a small wet circle had formed on Toto's shirt.

"Shit, sorry." You laugh awkwardly as you take a step back, desperately trying to dry your tears with your fingers before they ruined your makeup too.

"Hey, it's fine." He steps closer again, bringing his thumb to your face as he continues your job of drying the tears you had shed. Once he's done, his hands linger there for a bit longer than they needed to, stroking your cheeks. You thank the Gods for whatever the hell he was on today. "You do look pretty when you cry, though I must say I prefer the way you look on top of a podium, with champagne drenched hair and a first place trophy in hand."

You roll your eyes, as if it was possible to fall even more in love with him. It had become stupid at this point, really. Clearly the two of you had something special, to say the least, going on, but none of you were courageous enough to come clean about this.

"You aren't a bad view from up there as well." You shoot back, earning a smile in return.

The shameless and obvious flirtation to whoever watched from outside continued for a few minutes, until Toto insisted that you should go back to your party, and although at this point you had decided to give up the celebrations to look at him for the rest of night, there he was, once again with his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd back to where he initially had seen you. Doesn't take long for you to get lost in the music, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Toto had excused himself to greet other team members and sponsors, fulfilling the ultimate boss role even at parties, and stealing glances from you every now and then while talking to someone.

A few drinks later, the club was getting more empty by the minute, the clock almost hitting 4:30 a.m. Your makeup was already lightly smudged, your black Louboutins long gone in the corner you once laughed with your friends. As you thanked the remaining people for coming, Toto showed up again, startling you as he came from behind, putting his right hand in your shoulder.

"Seems like the party has reached an end." he says, making you look up at him. His face was fairly red, and by the way he slurred his words, you could tell he was somewhat drunk. His hair was messier than earlier and the tie that was once a fancy bow was now untied, resting around his neck, a nice combination to his slightly unbuttoned shirt.

"Unfortunately. I hope you had fun, though." you reply, turning your attention to shake some of your guests' hands.

"It's always fun with you around." He says as he smiles to the same people shaking your hands.

You crookedly smile, turning around to walk to your table. As you do so, he follows.

"Do you need a ride? I saw you coming in with Bradley, but he already left," He watches you as you walk through the empty club, employees cleaning the floor of what was once the party of a lifetime. "guess parties aren't really his thing." He chuckles.

"I don't wanna make you take me home now, it's late and you're probably very tired."

"Oh, please, it's Monaco. Not like I'm going to be driving for hours." He replies, earning you a laugh. You and Toto lived pretty close to each other, but you'd drive past his building before getting to yours, so you truly didn't want him to make a huge detour just because of you.

"Fine," you smile, grabbing your sparkly clutch. "just please tell me you came with your 300sl roadster." You say and he chortles, rolling his eyes.

The Mercedes 300SL Roadster owned by Toto was probably one of your favorite cars in his collection. Hell, in anyone's collection. It's such an incredibly classy vehicle you couldn't resist its charm.

"I did." He says, and you let out a slightly loud yes! as he grabs your scarpins, laughing at your reaction. The way the smallest things were capable of making you happy always made him smile. Even after closing a multi-millionaire deal with your team, some things would never fail to make you excited, such as being driven home in a car you've always wanted.

The both of you start to walk towards Jimmy'z's exit in a different sort of haze, like the two of you were in your own little world together, laughing and exchanging inside jokes. The dry warm Monaco summer air hits you as soon as you step out, and soon the vallet comes driving Toto's car, opening the door for you to get in.

As the both of you get in, he starts driving, the sound of the car's engine echoing throughout Princesse Grace Avenue. Duke Dumont's Ocean Drive in the radio as your hair flies due to the speed in which Toto's driving. Now and then, he casually glances at you, smiling at the way you still manage to dance even when sitting on the passenger's seat.

Despite being a race weekend, the city seemed awfully quiet and empty at this time. Soon enough, he takes a turn and you're finally in Larvotto, which meant in a few seconds he'd be pulling up at your home. However, before he had the chance to, you saw the sun rising in distance, its warm light gleaming in the sea water.

"Toto, look!" you point to the horizon, and he slows the car down to follow your gaze. "It's so beautiful.."

"Indeed it is.." he says, and you can tell by his tone he's got a change of plans coming. When you realize, he's parking the car in the shore, exiting the vehicle to open the door for you. "Come on, let me give you a real after party."

You smile, because there was no way the day could get any better. You were sure you'd wake up later convincing yourself this had been a dream. Taking your hand, he pulls you out of the car, and after you close the door, he runs towards the sea, fingers intertwined with yours.

In this moment, you force yourself to forget about all of the implications and concerns that could come at you. In this moment, it was just you and Toto, not a Mercedes driver and the Mercedes' Team Principal. To anyone else who'd catch a glimpse of the scene, the both of you looked like stupid, reckless teenagers in love.

Sitting on the sand, you try to catch your breath, stomach hurting due to you not being able to stop laughing. You lay your head on his broad shoulders, hands holding his arm.

Suddenly, he feels the need to confess, "I'm always so happy when I'm around you" with the german accent getting heavier as it always did when he was drunk.

You smile, "Me too."

A beat, and then, "You're the most amazing woman I've ever known."

It comes lower than he intends to, but he's also never felt so nervous around someone as he does now. You thank the heavens for the fact that he's not looking at you, you look like a kid stupidly in love.

"You don't need to say that," you sigh. "you've already told me you're proud of me for today."

"I know. I'm not saying it because I feel the need for it to be said, but because I truly think that." he replies. "Ever since that day in Spa, you've proven to be an extremely fierce, fearless, wonderful driver and an even more amazing woman." You roll your eyes at his compliments. "I mean it, Y/N." He grabs your attention just by saying your name, making it all even more real. "Mercedes is extremely lucky to have you, and so am I." he looks at you, his face closer than ever as yours rest on his shoulder.

"You have me?" You say, looking at him through your lashes.

"I like to think I do. Do I?"

"Utterly." You giggle, your eyes glowing just by looking at him.

His hands go to cup your face, and the last thing you'd expect from him happens. At first, his lips brush over yours lightly, as if he's asking for permission, testing the waters to see if he's allowed to go further. When you don't protest, he deepens the kiss, sweeping you off your feet.

The both of you laugh, and you hide your now completely red face in his chest. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this." you say, feeling his body hairs stand on end.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do this." he says, and you shed a tear on his partially shirt covered chest. "Are you crying?" He asks, and when he hears you sniff, he takes it as a yes. "Hey, don't cry. Look." he lifts your chin up, making you stare at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes.

Sat in the airport, legs over your luggage, you started to question the decision you had made a month ago. It all started in June, when an old colleague from LSU reached out to you via email with a simple, yet — to you — terrifying invitation.

Your colleagues from university were planning a Fourth Of July party in Baton Rouge, the one place in earth you swore to never step foot on again. Well, it's not like the city itself had done anything to you, more like the college life did. Your college years were a part of your life you desperately wanted to forget, partly because going to LSU meant giving up on your dream of studying abroad, and partly, well, let's just say a certain blonde with a degree on consumer and family financial services was to blame.

With an acute voice echoing through the airport gates, you sighed, getting up to get on the plane.

As the aircraft was in the air, you get your playlist blasting on the headphones and not long after that, you drift off to sleep.

You wake up when there's 20 minutes left to land on the city, and as you get your phone to send a message to your friend, Emily, the device decides to make this trip a little harder than it should have ever been. On that bright screen, on a small box with "Years ago on this week.." written over it, was the picture.

It was night when you woke up, tangled on the white strawberry sheets of your own dorm bed. Opening your eyes quietly, you saw the one man that had put you on that position earlier. Sat with his back to you, there was Joe. He had only his sweatpants on, and you could see the reddish marks, the ones caused by you, were starting to fade on his skin. His hair was messy and he breathed slowly, seeming oddly calm giving what had just happened.

Joe and you had been, well.. enemies? since you could remember. It all started in school, you had a dream of becoming a world famous dancer, a cheerleader in college, and Joe just thought it was stupid, all of it. He was quite shy, but you knew he had a dream as well. Joe wanted to be a football star, but nobody knew that. He'd just let it slide once when you two were fighting on the school's playground. When you two got to the age in which people go to university, you thought you had finally seen the last of him. How foolish, truly. After two years of studying engineering at Louisiana State University and being in the cheerleading team, there he was, ready to make your life miserable for another few years.

That was, of course, until now. You'd never imagine you see him like this; half naked, messy hair and your cat on his lap as he caressed her head, whispering in a baby voice to her as she purred softly.

You smiled, because why wouldn't you? Shifting quietly on your bed, as if he was a scaredy animal you could scare away with any abrupt movements, you get your phone, taking a picture of him. It was dark, blurred, but you didn't mind, you could tell it was Joe, his big silhouette right in the center of the photograph. In your head, you knew you wouldn't need to keep this blurry memento, you were certain the amount of opportunities to take pictures of him now were infinite, or so you thought, drifting to sleep again.

The pilot's voice pulls you out of your little daydream, announcing the plane had arrived in Louisiana.

"I shouldn't have come." You chant in your head as you exit the plane, heading over to the landing area to wait for Emily.

You and Emily had met in LSU, and became inseparable since then. She was your roommate and, despite being highly introverted, you managed to develop your longest friendship ever with her.

When Anna, the colleague that invited you to the party, emailed you, Emily was the first person to text you, begging you to come and enjoy a night with the people you hadn't seen in so long. She also missed you a lot since both of you hadn't seen each other much after college, of course, you somehow managed to see each other every year and talk almost everyday, but it wasn't as close as you wished.

Emily lived in Louisiana with her husband, Dave, who had also gone to LSU with you, and of all the times you had seen each other, she had gone to your home, so you technically kind of owed this to her.

Waving in a frantic manner, there she was. Slightly different from last time, but still your best friend. You smile, walking towards her.

"I'm so glad you're here!" she says once she gets a hold of you, hugging you as if you could run away at any moment. You kind of wished you could, but she made everything better. She had that superpower.

"I'm glad I could come, Ems. I've missed you so much." You smile, looking at her as she helps you with your heavy bags.

The two of you start walking towards the exit to her car, catching up after a long time. Emily put you to date on what every single old colleague was up to now, and you laughed at the amount of gossip she was able to retain.

"Where's Dave?" You furrow your brows, just realizing someone was missing.

Emily opens the trunk and you help her put your bags on it. Panting after carrying so much weight, she replies "Home. He was working so he couldn't come, but he's super excited to see you." as you two get into the vehicle.

And with that, the engine starts and soon you're on the highway, on the way to her house.

The week in Emily and David's house had passed very quickly, and you throughly regretted ever wishing you hadn't came. She had shown you every bit of the city, and things had changed a lot. Now, you were in their guest room, getting ready to the reason that had you coming all the way from New York to Louisiana.

It was fourth of July, and you had heard fireworks all day around the neighborhood, even stopping to watch them for a bit before going for a shower.

"They're pretty, aren't they?" Emily said through the kitchen window as she saw you looking up outside.

"Very much." You turned around, smiling at her.

"Anna told me they're having fireworks tonight, I think you'll like it."

You got a bit excited, you've always loved fireworks, they were like drawings in the biggest canvas you could ever get, the sky.

"Looking forward to it!" You said, going up the stairs to get ready.

Looking in the mirror, you sigh. You wore an USA flag bodysuit and jean shorts. This whole patriotism seemed stupid, but Emily dragged you into it, alleging you were allergic to fun. Nonetheless, you looked good.

"Y/N! Let's go, we're gonna be late!"

Breathing in deeply, you close your eyes and stare at yourself one last time. You knew Joe would probably attend the party, he loved parties, and still, you came. You couldn't give up now, you couldn't get this stupid thing get to you. He probably doesn't even remembers everything that happened that day.

You shake your head, moving those thoughts away as you go downstairs, seeing Emily and Dave ready sitting on the couch.

"You look amazing! I told you you'd rock this fit." she gets up, hugging you.

"You too, Ems." you laugh, fixing your hair after she lets you go. "Shall we?"

"After you, Miss United States!" David jokes, signaling for you to get out of the house first. You laugh, rolling your eyes.

The three of you get in the car, and the drive to the party is filled with singing and more of Emily informing you of your colleague's current lives.

When Dave finally pulls over to the party, you can already hear the loud music in the car. Looking out the window, you see the last thing you'd expect to see today: Joe's parents house.

When Robin and Jim were away, Joe would always throw parties in his house instead of in the frat house. It made sense, giving the fact his house was a bit bigger. Snapping back to reality, you froze, but still had hopes of not seeing him tonight, after all, the amount of people that would come to the party was huge.

Entering the house, you were struck by fairy lights hanging on the roof, from a wall to another, and USA flags all over the house. There was a big wood table in a corner with punch and other drinks, but other than that, the place looked pretty much the same. It was weird coming back after all these years, but it still had a familiar air to it.

After almost 50 minutes, Emily was already drunk and fooling around somewhere with her fiancé. You were finally alone, and by now you had roamed the entire house, gladly not meeting Joe not even once. You thought about leaving, but not before going to your favorite spot in the house, the only one you hadn't explored today yet.

Joe's house had a small attic, which you adored. When he threw parties in high school and you couldn't get away from your friend's pleas to come, this was the place you found yourself in. So, after 6 years, there were you again. On that narrow wooden space that had a somewhat medium window with a view to the back of the house, where the party was most wild. You were surprised to see they hadn't moved a thing, it felt like you had time-traveled to your school years.

In front of the window, there was an old blue armchair, the one you would sometimes sleep on waiting for Emily and the others to want to go home. The rest of the attic was filled with boxes, some with trophies and pictures of Joe, with his family, his team, and his coach.

You sat on the armchair, arms hugging your knees as you looked at the window, the music that once made your head hurt because of the volume was long gone, sounding now like white noise.

Entering the football team frat house, you could see neon lights and hear music blasting through the speakers. Soon enough, all the other cheerleaders and Emily were dancing and having fun, after all the team had won the game, there was no reason not to celebrate. Except for you, because a win for LSU immediately meant running into Joe Burrow, or seeing his face all over the university for a week or so.

Sitting on a couch in the living room, you had a privileged view to the enormous door that swung open, revealing a sweaty but smiley Joe. He walks in as he normally does, exhaling an air of cockiness around him. He has a bottle of beer in hand, and already looks drunk as he laughs to his teammates. After being showered in praises and congratulations, he's free to walk a bit further, which is when he sees you. His eyes immediately glance at your jersey, and you immediately regret having done what you did.

Earlier that day, before you left for the party, it started to snow, and you realized you hadn't brought a single coat to the game. The girls were about to leave and they didn't want any delays, so you looked around for anything that could cover your body and protect you from freezing.

The only thing you could find was an old LSU football team jersey with the name "BURROW" stitched on the back. You sighed, but tried to confort yourself by thinking nobody would see it, after all, the lights at the party were pretty low.

All of it cumulated to this moment. This disgusting look he gives you as he looks down, glaring at his jersey. "What the hell are you wearing?”

Of course he would recognize it, it was his, after all. You cursed yourself mentally in all the languages you know, and prayed that Emily would come to you out of the blue to take you home. She didn't.

"Please, don't start, Joseph." You say, trying to ignore him. "I was cold and this was the only thing I could find."

“Yeah, right. Just say you were trying to piss me off, like always.” he scowls.

"Not everything is about you, QB." You get up, furrowing your brows at the audacity, annoyance dripping in your voice.

“Everything is most definitely not about you either, cheerleader.” he scoffs, and his teammates laugh. “You're still not even good at that.”

"And you're still not even good at your little games, idiot." I scoff. "Let me remind you, I'm the one going to the national competition while you're still playing football in college."

This time, his friends mutter a low "oooh".

He's stunned for a moment, then he scowls and gets closer to your face. “Watch your mouth. This is my last season here anyway, then i’m going straight to the NFL and everyone's gonna know my name, who knows what you’ll be doing.”

You just still didn't know he actually meant it.

"The NFL?" You laugh, hands on your chest. "You know, Joey.." You say, calling him by the nickname his friends had given him, in an attempt to piss him off. "To be on the NFL, you gotta be one of the greats." You stare at him, getting closer. "Something you.. are not."

He scowls, and his friends are surprised, the nickname really got to him. Before you can get another word in, he grabs you and pulls you close, his voice is low and cold. “Who the fuck are you calling Joey? You don’t get on the nickname level with me, Y/N."

Your squirm under his touch, trying to get off of him. A bit of fear seems to be creeping up in your eyes, and you try your best to not let it show.

"Don't fucking touch me!" You slap him, getting some inches away and staring at him in awe.

He recoils a bit, then glares. His lips are trembling, and you’ve never seen him angry like this, even his breath is shaky. He doesn't look like the Joe you once fed turtles in kindergarten with. He clenches his fist and looks around, he’s got the attention of everyone at the party “Are you seriously gonna slap the quarterback?”

"Fuck you! You're a horrible person that thinks that because you're a star you can do whatever the fuck you want, well, breaking news, YOU CAN'T." You scoff, angrier than ever, while removing the jersey off of you, throwing it at him, eyes swelling with tears.

"You're a fucking parasite, a manwhore who thinks everything's about you. I hope you never get to the NFL." This time it comes out lower, like a personal threat. You desperately crave to hurt him in a way he won't be able to laugh at or make jokes. Turning around, you walk out of the house, everything seemed to suffocate you.

He's stunned, no ones ever talked to him like that, specially you, the one person he was so used to getting shit from. He just stares at your back, the BURROW that was once hidden by your messy hair now gone, in his shaky hands. A range of emotions go through him. He's mad, but then there’s a sadness, he feels unwanted, as if the only reason people talk to him is because he is the quarterback. He doesn’t want you to leave like this, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he just yells “Where are you even gonna go?!”

"Somewhere you're not!" You scream, not even bothering to turn around to face it, crossing the door and walking through the garden in front of the house.

At this point, the party had gone back to what it once was, a loud, fun mess.

He sighs, then chases after you. When he catches up, he grabs your arm and forces you to turn around to face him. “Where the hell do you think you're going? You're not safe, there's a bunch of drunkards out there today."

"Like you give a fuck." You shrug, shaking your arm to get away from his grip. You turn around and start walking, the cold getting to you again. The snow fell mercilessly and all you had was the thin sweater that covered your cheerleading clothes.

He sighs, then realizes you’ll freeze outside. He puts his arm around you and pulls you in. You're so incredibly small compared to him you can feel his heart beating fast and his muscles tense from anger. “I do care. Just… come back inside, you're gonna freeze out here."

"Leave me alone! I fucking hate you!" The tears start falling as you punch his chest in a frantic way. It didn't hurt him, of course, but you didn't know that.

He scowls when you do so, gritting his teeth, then just watches you cry. He sighs and pulls you in tight, his body heats yours up. He rocks you like a baby, and whispers “Let me explain. I didn't meant for things to be like this.”

"Like what? Like living hell?" You away from his embrace, but part of you wishes you hadn't. Joe was so big and warm you didn't even needed a coat. "You hate me. Why are you even doing this?" you yell, the loud blasting music from the party muffling your screams. "Go back to your stupid party with your friends and your girls. I'm going home."

He grabs your arms and makes you turn to him. “I don’t.. hate you. I just get mad and take it out on you. I know that’s not right, i’m trying to fix it. Let me take you home.”

"Oh please." You scoff, tears still falling. "No need. I'll walk." You say, shivering due to the cold.

He sighs again. “You're not going home alone, it's not safe. I don’t care if you hate my guts, i’m not letting you walk alone.”

Joe's words and actions pierce you like a bullet. Never, in a million years, you had imagined you'd hear him talk to you like this. Of course, it was still rude, but there was a sweetness to it. You say nothing, as you couldn't bring yourself to. As he puts the jersey you once threw in his face back on your shoulders, the shivering reduces a bit, and your lips stop trembling, their reddish color that was once white from the cold, reappearing. His big hands stroking your back felt so gentle, and helped you get rid of the cold as he gently and quietly led you to his car. He opens the door to the passenger seat and waits for you to get in. You do so, surprisingly, and he closes it, turning around to get into the driver's seat.

He climbs in the drivers seat and starts the engine. The warm air that comes out of the vents warming you up as he looks over at you. You watch him drive, he seems so focused, and when he speaks, it’s in a quiet voice “I'll walk you to your door, then you should probably take a hot shower to warm up, your gonna get sick like this.”

"There's no need. I'll survive." you say, pulling the jersey closer and breathing in the warmth.

“I'm not gonna risk you getting sick just because you decided to be stubborn now.” You can’t help but notice how gentle his voice is, a nice contrast to how cold he seemed towards you at the party.

"Fine." You whisper, and after a few moments in silence, he finally pulls up to the dorms. You open the door of the car and get out, the cold getting to you again. You sigh.

Joe does the same and the two of you walk in silence towards the entrance of the building. Once you reach the door, you turn around, "You've done enough, Burrow. I mean it. Go back to your party, you have a win to celebrate." You say, grabbing your keys and unlocking the door.

“I wanna see you safe in your house before i go, I feel responsible for you getting cold out here.” he doesn’t want you to think he doesn’t care about you, when it’s clear from the way he’s acting he only thinks of you and your safety right now.

You nod, his gentle words feeling like daggers in your heart, making you almost regret the way went a few rounds with him earlier.

Getting into your aparment, you take off your shoes, holding the door for him to do the same, and when he does, you lock it again, before making your way to the small kitchen.

"Can I get you anything? Water, tea..?" You ask, trying to be a good host. You and Emily never expected no one to come to the apartment, so there was never many food or drink options.

He follows you to the kitchen, shrugs and looks around. The apartment is not very big, but it’s homely. From the kitchen, you can see the entire living room, including the door, and then there's a small hallway that leads to the rooms and bathroom.

He looks at you when you offer him something and smiles, it breaks his scowl, it looks good on him. He looks at you for a moment, then says “Can i get a glass of water?”

You nod and get on your tip toes to open the cabinet, getting a glass and then filling it with water, handing it to Joe as you take a seat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen's island.

He takes the glass and drinks from it, still holding on to his scowl, but it slowly drops off as he begins to relax. He sits down beside you, close enough that his knees are touching yours “Your apartment is so different from mine.”

You sigh, making small talk with him was the last thing on your list for today, but still, you gave it a shot.

"How so..?" You say, not even bothering to look at him. Instead, the cup of water you had poured to yourself in front of you was the one getting all of the attention. The fact that the only person in the entire campus that hated you was the one to bring you home was already embarrassing enough, so you were still to wrap your mind around the fact he was still here.

He watches you and looks around the kitchen, not sure how to explain it to you. For a few moments he just looks at you, trying to gather his thoughts. “I don’t know how to explain it, it’s just different from anything i’m used to.”

"Calling me poor now, are we, Burrow?" You shrug, letting a small laugh fall from your lips.

He glares, then realizes you were joking and laughs a little bit. You can notice he still smiles when he looks at you, which is surprising considering how he always scowled at you. “I'd never call you poor, especially not after seeing your outfit tonight.” he looks you up and down.

"Mr. Joseph Burrow's a fashionista?" You chuckle, this wasn't something you'd ever expect from him. There wasn't any monograms or brand names on the sweater you wore, but if you were a someone into good clothing, you'd recognize it.

He laughs and shakes his head, he can’t help but notice your curves and he looks down, trying not to stare. “I wouldn’t consider myself a fashion guy, i just know something looks nice when i see it.. and your outfit looks very nice on you."

"Yeah, sure.." You nod, standing up and grabbing both of the glasses. You take them to the sink, putting your hair up in a bun and washing them. "I'm okay now, Burrow, really. I don't know why you did what you did tonight, but thank you." The thank you comes out like a whisper, but you pray he does notice. "Come back to your party, enjoy your teammates and your girls. There's still time."

He shifts in his seat and watches you as you wash the glass, his mind is conflicted. Part of him wants to follow his teammates back to the party, the other part wants to stay with you, see how long the small talk can go before it turns into a fight again. His eyes watch you as his breathing starts to pick up a bit. When you thank him, he realizes you don’t want to talk about the fight or why he did what he did at all.

He shakes his head and stands up. “I guess I better get going then."

"Yeah.. of course." You flash him a shy smile, and the awkward silence sets in again.

He notices your smile and smiles back, not knowing how to express himself right now, although he doesn’t know how to leave either. He just awkwardly stands there, staring at you, his eyes are locked on yours, he can’t help but notice how beautiful they are. The two of you lost in your own thoughts, the silence filled with tension. Then he speaks “Can i ask something before I go?”

"Yes."

“Why'd you wear that jersey? You knew it would piss me off, so why’d you wear it?”

You sigh, you had already explained that, but Joe seemed so drunk you thought maybe he had forgotten. "I told you, I was cold and I had forgotten my hoodie." you point to the couch, where the green hoodie rested on. "I knew it would piss you off, and trust me when I say I wasn't going for that today, but it happened. I'm sorry for it, you can have it back now." You say, taking the jersey off for the second time that night, except this time you don't throw it on his face. Instead, you just gently hand it to him, like a peace offering.

He takes it, looking down at it in his hands, then he looks back up at you. He sighs and is suddenly filled with mixed feelings, anger, sadness, his emotions feel overwhelming. He doesn’t want to yell and argue with you again, but he also doesn’t want to leave. He can’t stop looking at you and your eyes, he can’t help but love how pretty they are. "Can I please keep this? Please..?" he whispers.

"Why are you asking me that? It's yours, it has your name on it." You say matter-of-factly, fidgeting with your hands, something you do when you're nervous.

You can tell he’s trying really hard not to smile at you, his voice is soft when he says “Yeah… but it’s got your sweat on it… your smell… I want something to remind me of you… even though, you know… we always seem to get each other mad.”

You don't understand, after all, you see each other every single day. The best "something to remind me of you" he could ever ask for was standing right in front of him everyday.

You furrow your eyebrows. Years of fighting, screaming and pissing each other off leading to this moment was something you couldn't wrap your mind around. "Do I need to remind you we hate each other? Until this morning, you'd get me suspended from LSU if you could."

He laughs, and you’ve never seen him in such a vulnerable and soft state. "We both know I don’t wanna get you suspended from LSU, I mean, come on.. just look at you.” he stares at you, you see his eyes roaming your body like he always does, but there’s a different look about them. "You deserve this scholarship more than I do, you've always have."

"Yeah.." You scoff, not believing a word, looking at the jersey on his hands and then at his eyes. His big, blue eyes that you got lost in countless times before.

He smiles at you, realizing the snarkiness he just heard. He doesn’t mind the teasing, in fact, he kinda likes it. He stares at you for a minute, then he looks back down at the jersey “I like how it fits tight on you.” he says without realizing it.

"Tight? You're big as hell, it looks huge on me." You laugh, remembering how the jersey looked on you when you put it on earlier today.

He laughs silently to himself, a big smirk appears on his face. He looks at your body, then smiles. “You're just too small, but I do like how it fits on you."

You feel goosebumps throughout your entire body and your cheeks heat up. You curse yourself mentally for letting it all show so easily.

He's still staring at you, but doesn’t realize just how much he’s making you blush. He continues to speak in a low voice "I can see your belly button when you dance for us on the field.." He pauses, but decides to go on, and it's like you can hear the engines turning in his head. "I can see your bra strap when you go so high in the sky I feel my hands covered in cold sweat in fear that you'll fall and I won't be there to catch you. I can see your collarbones when you get so close to me when we're fighting that I wish I would just lean in and shut you the fuck up. I can see how you blush when I sweep you off your feet and leave you speechless, like i'm doing now." He steps closer. "I can see all of you. Matter of fact, Y/N, I think you're all I have ever wanted to see." He states, like it's a fact, like he has always known that. You feel your eyes starting to water and you feel stupid. "Every inch of you looks amazing in that jersey, it fits you like nothing else i’ve ever seen."

You sigh, it's almost like you can feel your skin being touched by him just by the way he’s looking at you. You feel like a forest fire, and his voice tone doesn't help. "Stop.."

His voice is so low when he talks, you want him to keep speaking. You want to hear his voice go on and on, to get you worked up, but also to lull you into the most peaceful sleep you've had in years. He keeps staring at you as he speaks “Just look at your shoulders, the fabric wraps all around them so perfectly, they’re such beautiful curves, just like the rest of you. Just look at you.. Jesus." He sighs.

You squirm under his gaze, but in a split second you're reminded of everything that happened before this moment. Before being here, in your small dorm, talking to the man you earlier thought to be the meanest person you knew. "I won't fall for it. I'm not the girls you get after winning games."

He chuckles and looks away, clearing this throat before going on "Those girls are just something to make me feel good, they don’t even mean anything to me. But you.. even when you make me angry, I want nothing but to feel you in my arms. You make me feel so good, even when you piss me off.”

"You don't mean that." You mutter, trying to stay calm. You pick the skin on your arms while staring at him.

His eyes shift back to yours when you speak, he sighs and you can tell for a minute he’s conflicted on what to say. "I know you don’t believe I mean all those words, but honestly, I mean every word. You are the only girl who's ever made me feel something, even if we’re arguing, that means we at least have some emotion we want to put towards each other. I'd rather have you making me mad than have someone making me feel nothing at all."

A single tear slides down your cheek. "You're drunk, that's what it is. You're drunk and this.." You point to yourself, and then to him, "..must be a prank."

“I know that’s all we’ve known for years, but maybe the reason you make me so mad is because I have feelings for you. You are the only girl I have ever wanted to talk to like this. You're the only girl that makes me feel this way. I never want to stop talking to you, I just want to tell you how beautiful you are, even when you make me mad, or when you push me so far it makes me want to push you towards the wall and kiss you."

You stare at him like everything you've ever known has finally made sense. A few more tears drip from your eyes and you sigh. "You promise?" it comes out in a whisper.

He smiles and you can tell it's not a fake drunk smile. This is the smile he flashes at someone when he's letting down his guard and being completely honest and vulnerable. "I promise. I don't want anyone else, I want you. I wanna be the guy who makes you happy like no one else could. I want you to be there when I get into the NFL and I want to be able to look for you on every game, waving at you when I see you're wearing my jersey because you finally want to, because it means something."

You look up, melting over his voice, your eyes meeting his like never before. His eye color seemed different now, a more vivid blue. His eyes seemed more relaxed, a nice contrast to the ones full of rage that always came with a furrowed brow. "I want you, too." You whisper.

He smiles, a real and sweet smile. This time when his eyes roam your body, you feel like he isn't looking at you in a nasty way like always, he's just looking at you because he thinks he's the luckiest boy in the world.

You smile, "Do I need to call you some names to have you kissing me now?" It makes him laugh, and your eyes lock on his. There isn't any words, just feelings, and you can see it in him when the realization sets in that you want him too.

You get on your tip toes as Joe pulls you towards him, your lips finally touching each other. Your belly feels as if you just rode a rollercoaster, as if the LSU football team had won, as if there was fireworks inside of you like there's in the sky on the fourth of July. But instead it was all him, the same boy that you once hated so much, doing all of this to you without even trying.

Immersed in your thoughts, you didn't notice when someone opened the door and came in, what gave it away was the smell, and you wondered if it would ever change.

"Joseph..?" you froze, again, but still managed to turn around on the armchair, feet now touching the ground.

His eyes meet yours for the first time in.. well, years, since that fateful night. He looked.. the same. Although his hair was shorter now and he looked bigger than ever, his face was the same. The same mesmerizing ocean blue eyes, pointy nose, and rosy cheeks, which you always found funny, because it looked like he had blush on. He wore a threadbare white shirt, shorts, and a tennis shoe, but they weren't the same as years ago, and you thought to yourself how an outfit of his now would cost probably more than your monthly earnings. He also wore a USA flag headband, which you had seen earlier laying on the wood table for everyone to get one. You thought it looked.. funny.

"Y/N." He nods. It felt like forever since your name had left his lips for the last time.

"Sorry, I-" You start, getting up from the chair as you wrote a full apology in your head for being in a private part of his home. "I thought nobody would need the room, I'll leave now."

"Nobody does." He takes a sip of his drink, his hands looking huge as he holds the red cup. "Dave told me you came with him and Emily, had to see it for myself."

He says, getting closer and finally leaning onto the window, arms resting just above it. Another sip, and you find yourself sitting again.

"How'd you know I was here?" You furrow your eyebrows, not understanding a thing. His eyes don't wander from the view. You're stiff, and you think you've probably never felt so nervous.

"You always are."

If you thought your eyebrows couldn't furrow any more, you were wrong. As soon as the words fell from his lips, you were in complete shock. Does that mean he knew that, all this time, you spent the parties in his attic, alone, dying to go home? That he knew you slept here, not once, not twice, but several times before?

"What?" Is all you manage to say, embarrassment taking over you.

"I mean, when I threw parties in high school you were always here. I know you don't like parties but you would always come because of Emily, and somehow your nights always ended here."

Your eyes widened, and you swore that if your mom could see you now, she would say something along the lines of You look like you've seen a ghost.

You kind of felt like you had.

"I'm surprised you like the place, it's kinda small." He finally shifts, taking his arms off the window and setting his now empty cup on the small wood piece that rested under the window. You blush, after all this time.

When you woke up in the morning, Joe was no longer there. You didn't panic, just thought of it as typical him. Getting up from the bed, you saw Emily on her chair, watching something on her computer.

"Morning, sleeping beauty." she says as she hears you yawn.

"Morning, Ems." You smile, sitting up straight. "D'you have a good night?"

"Obviously, duh. Dave's a gentleman." she states, bragging, and you laugh. "He also told me you and Joe left together last night.. what was that about?"

You sigh, flashes from the night before coming back to haunt you. "We.. uh.." you start, but words can't really explain what went down in this apartment yesterday. "We kissed, and had sex.. and, uh.. he might've said he likes me.." you whisper, like it was a crime.

"WHAT?!" Emily jumps from the chair, startled. "Y/N.. Oh my God.." she gets closer to you, getting on her knees in front of you. "How was that? And, most importantly, how's that gonna work now?" she states, as if something had changed overnight.

"What do you mean?" you furrow your eyebrows, confused.

"Well, you know he's been drafted to the NFL, don't you?" she says as if it was something everyone knew, incluiding you.

You felt your heart sink.

So it was a prank, after all. The worst one he could ever pull on you.

He left, and he wasn't coming back.

You knew he meant every word he had said last night, but he also had really left. Joe had confessed his love to you the night before just to leave in the morning, leaving you mercilessly stranded.

You don't say anything, because how could you find the words to? Emily immediately understands and hugs you, but the only embrace you could possibly want at the time was miles away now.

You were surprised at his ability to pretend like nothing had happened, like the last few years hadn't been torture to you, wondering where did it go wrong. Years of blaming yourself, of recalling the night over and over and-

"No need to be ashamed, Y/N." he chuckles, the sound of it filling the quiet room.

"I'm not ashamed." you lie. Letting him see through you was the last thing you needed today. "Just thought nobody knew."

"Well, if it helps, I'm the only one who does." he finally sits on the ground, back glued to the wall where the window was. A beat, and then he was back with the personal questionnaire. "How are you?"

"I should be the one asking that question. Huge team, getting all the girls, abnormal paycheck.. Superbowl." your words dripping with disgust as you stare out the window, hoping for something, anything, anyone, a divine intervention to get you out of there.

"I don't really get that many girls," he says as he stares at you. One of the things about him that bothered you so much was his courage. You could never, ever, not a million years, bring yourself to stare at him the way he'd do to you. It was intimidating, raw, and worst of all, familiar. He'd always do this when the two of you fought in high school, that's how he'd always win the arguments, not by words, by having the courage to look you in the face and leaving you feeling vulnerable and naked under his gaze. That's also the same way he stared at you that night, after saying all those nice words that made you melt under his touch.

"Mhm.." You nod, not knowing what to say.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" he questions, again.

"I'm fine, finishing my doctorate now."

You don't know why you told him that, but it felt right.

He lets out a breath, "Fuck, Y/N.. That's huge." he congratulates you, and although he couldn't see it due to the poor lighting, it makes you blush. You had never seen it as that big of a deal, it was just the thirst for knowledge you always had, but it was nice knowing someone Joe thought about it as something nice.

"Thank you"

"Thank you coming today," he finally says, awkwardly, as he gets up, grabbing his cup as he does so. "tell your folks I said hi."

"Will do."