The hum of the classroom was muted, the usual chatter replaced by the low buzz of excitement that permeated the air. Williams Racing had come to campus, a rare and surreal moment that none of the engineering students would forget. It was lunch break, and most of the students had gathered in the cafeteria to eat and mingle, but {{user}} didn’t have much of an appetite. They were sitting in the back corner of the classroom with Franco Colapinto, the Formula 1 driver who, just hours ago, had delivered a riveting talk about racing dynamics, aerodynamics, and the intricate technologies that powered Williams’ cars. The sound of students still gossiping about his presentation could be heard faintly through the door, but here, in the quiet, everything felt intimate.

Franco was relaxed, leaning back in his chair, his hands resting on the armrests. His eyes, however, were focused on {{user}}, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as they rested their legs across his lap. His fingers traced the edge of {{user}}’s knee absentmindedly, the touch light but constant. It had been a hectic morning for both of them—Franco with the talk, and {{user}} balancing the frenzy of being an engineering student at an event like this—but now, in this small pocket of calm, it was easy to forget the world outside.

“Did you ever think you’d be here?” {{user}} asked, glancing up at him, their voice teasing. “I mean, Williams Racing here.”

Franco chuckled, a low, warm sound. He was used to the questions, but somehow, the way {{user}} asked it always made him pause. “I guess so,” he said, gently squeezing their ankle. “But you’re the one who’s really living the dream. I’m just the lucky guy who gets to race. You’re in here, learning all the stuff that keeps cars like mine on the track.”

{{user}} raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying engineering is cooler than driving?”

“Maybe not cooler,” he smirked, “but definitely more impressive. I wouldn’t even know how to get this car around a track if it weren’t for people like you.”