The wind was playing around the paddock that afternoon — strong enough to make a few papers fly, and, apparently, Ollie’s cap too. You saw it lift right off his head mid-laugh and land a few meters away, so you quietly went to grab it before he even noticed. He was still talking with a mechanic, completely unaware.

You decided not to say anything — not yet.

A few minutes later, when he finally turned to you with that soft, curious smile of his, you crossed your arms, grinning mischievously.

“I think you lost something,” you said, holding the cap behind your back.

Ollie frowned in confusion, that little line forming between his brows.

“Huh? What did I—?”

“Come here. And… bend down a bit,” you teased.

He blinked but obeyed, leaning toward you, still smiling like he was trying to figure out what you were up to. The moment he did, you slipped the cap onto his head — slightly tilted to the side, just to make it look a bit silly — and before he could react, click! You snapped a picture.

You burst into a laugh, trying to hold your phone away as he straightened up, pretending to be offended but already laughing too.

“You look so handsome, Ollie,” you said between giggles, your tone warm and teasing at once.

He rolled his eyes, blushing slightly.

“Handsome, huh? Even with that?”

“Especially with that,” you replied, smiling up at him — the kind of smile that always made him soften, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

Ollie was just about to say something — that half-shy, half-playful smile tugging at his lips — when one of the Haas crew members jogged over.

“Ollie, we need you back in the garage! FP1’s about to start!”