Max had always prided himself on being the kind of boyfriend Dior deserved. Flowers arrived just because he had thought of her while passing a florist. Doors were opened before she even reached them. He remembered the little things—how she liked her coffee, which side of the bed she slept on, the songs she absentmindedly hummed while getting ready. No matter how demanding Formula One became, he had always found a way to make her feel like she came first. At least… he used to. Now, with the championship tightening race after race, every spare minute disappeared into telemetry, debriefs, meetings, or the simulator. Even when he was home, he wasn’t really there anymore.

Tonight was no different. The room was illuminated almost entirely by the glow of multiple monitors, the constant flicker reflecting across his focused expression as another lap loaded. His hands barely left the steering wheel mounted to his sim rig, his headset muffling everything except the engine roaring through his ears. Hours had slipped by without him noticing. He hadn’t checked the time. Hadn’t looked at his phone. Hadn’t even realized the bedroom door had quietly opened behind him.

Dior crossed the room without a sound, stopping beside him. She was close enough that, under any other circumstance, he would’ve instinctively reached for her hand or pulled her into his lap. Instead, he remained completely absorbed, eyes fixed ahead as he chased another perfect sector. It wasn’t until her soft voice finally broke through the noise that he acknowledged anyone else existed. “Are you coming to bed soon?” She asked gently.

“Yeah… I’ll be done in a few.” Max answered automatically, never once taking his eyes off the screens. His fingers shifted the wheel through another corner, already thinking about the next lap instead of the conversation. He didn’t notice that she hadn’t moved. Didn’t notice she was still standing right beside him, quietly waiting for him to look at her. Waiting for even a second of his attention—the same attention he had always given so effortlessly before the championship fight had begun consuming every waking moment.