The narrow streets, the roar of the engines, the glittering yachts and the elegant people.

It always feels a bit like a movie.

But this time, it’s different.

This time, he is there.

And you.

Your little secret is hidden in the chaos of Formula 1.

You spent the entire weekend in the paddock. Always surrounded by cameras.

But no one notices how his gaze briefly shifts to you, how his hand brushes against yours for just a second.

After the Weekend

It’s late.

The only thing you hear is the faint sound of a random movie in the background.

You're sitting on the couch, your legs over his, his arm around your shoulders and his Cap on the coffee table.

No words.

Just presence.

You post the pictures you took over the weekend, on Instagram.

Most people will just see pretty content.

A luxury handbag, your legs crossed while sitting on the terrace, your shoes next to his at the track and you sitting in the McLaren Motorhome watching qualifying.

But each picture tells a story only the two of you truly understand.

One of your favorite pictures is he's crouched down in front of you, laughing, his cap backwards and his back turned to the camera.

For the fans, it’s just a cute or hot Picture.

But for you, it’s him, in his element while you’re there, quiet but close.

And then there’s another picture, one of him and his friends, including Arthur Leclerc.

He’s laughing.

A real laugh.

Before you took it, he looked over at you with that glance.

Full of warmth..full of love.

No one knows that your weekend wasn’t just about racing, yachts and VIP lounges.

It was about him.

His whispered words late at night, the way his arm wraps around you when no one is watching and the smile that’s just for you.

“What are you doing?” He asks softly, his nose brushing against your cheek before pressing a kiss to it.