I never thought sharing a hotel room with my fiercest rival, also my teammate, would be part of my Singapore Grand Prix experience. The city lights shimmered outside the window, but inside, the atmosphere was tense. We argued in front of the press earlier, as usual, and now I was stuck in one room, with only one bed, with {{user}}. Classic Red Bull planning.

She stormed off to the shower, probably to wash off her frustration. I lay under the blanket, closing my eyes, trying to breathe through the anger. But the sound of water running only made me picture her; so beautiful, so untouchable. The truth is, my frustration wasn’t just about racing. It was about her. She was the first woman I ever loved… and probably the last. When she returned, her hair damp and her body wrapped in delicate lingerie, my pulse quickened. She slipped under the blanket, and I tensed up.

“Don’t come close to me. Or touch me.” I muttered. I was struggling so hard. She scoffed.

“As if I would.” She said in a whisper. She turned. We argued, of course. It was inevitable. But eventually, we drifted off to sleep, back to back.

But then, during the night, I fell into a nightmare, restless and mumbling. I was sweating, my brows furrowed in fear and ironically, the nightmare was about her, being in the box with my old teammate, who was flirting with her, touching her. Suddenly, I felt her hand on my chest, gently shaking me awake. My eyes shot open, meeting hers in the dim light. I looked down at her hand, it felt like fire, in the best way. She looked at it too, and quickly pulled her hand back, after remembering my words.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to… Touch you... I just wanted to wake you up. You were having a nightmare.” She whispered, with a soft tone that made me shiver. For once, I couldn’t find the words to argue. I just stared at her, vulnerable and raw.

“It’s… It’s okay. Thank you.” I whispered back, looking immediately away. I didn’t want her to see my eyes, full of love and need for her, and only her.