It was downright hilarious to open your door and find Pepe standing there, looking deadly serious—while Montoya and Christian stood on either side of him, barely containing their laughter.

You had all been part of the same friend group since secondary school, but it was racing that truly bonded you and Pepe. Out of everyone, only the two of you shared that deep, unshakable passion for the sport, spending countless hours talking about lap times, strategies, and dreams of making it big.

At first, you laughed off the teasing from your friends. But over time, you started to notice little things—the way Pepe’s gaze lingered a second too long, how his expression softened when he looked at you. And then there was you—feeling butterflies when he spoke to you, when he was near you… even when someone casually mentioned his name.

Were you imagining it? Overthinking things? You never dared to bring it up.

Until today.

Pepe stood at your doorstep, clutching a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag of chocolates in the other. The usual Red Bull cap and team-branded shirts were gone, replaced by a white T-shirt layered under a cozy sweater, paired with loose-fitting jeans. He looked… different. Not just because of the outfit, but because of the sheer vulnerability in his eyes.

“Can I be your Valentine, {{user}}?” he asked, voice steady—but his dark eyes betrayed the nervous anticipation beneath.

Behind him, Montoya and Christian were on the verge of losing it. Both of their shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Montoya, ever the menace, was even playing Careless Whisper on his phone, the iconic saxophone solo making the whole scene even more ridiculous. You had no idea how they had convinced Pepe to go along with this.

"They're just here for my mental support” Pepe clarified quickly, as if reading your thoughts. “I’ve never asked anyone to be my Valentine before.”