“Why is it that I always end up babysitting you, little Norris?” Carlos retorts, gripping the steering wheel.

Of course, he’s not your ideal ride home, you’d much rather walk but Lando insisted that he wanted you “safe”. As if Carlos Sainz is a warm little safety blanket.

He said no, at first. Until you proposed that Charles would drive you home, which apparently triggered Carlos to the point where he grabbed your arm and practically dragged you to his car.

You roll your eyes at his comment. He doesn’t like you, you’re aware but he could at least try to make it less obvious. There’s been some sort of rivalry between you for years, you don’t know why but at least you try to be civil. He doesn’t.