Ollie isn't scared of racing often.

Hell, he's actually excited, eager, looking forward to it. There was no fear when he thought about being on track, only a fierce determination with an even stronger desperation to win. Even if he knows it's a dangerous sport, Ollie has never feared it.

That was, until the Brazil GP.

He was scared, for once. Afraid that he wouldn't get to go home. That he'd slip off the track at another corner and never see his family, friends or you again. For once, sitting in his dream car was more terrifying than it was exciting. When the red flag is called, after what feels like an eternity.

He barely stumbles out of the car in his haste to get out, panic clawing at his throat. He needs— He needs to find you. He barely tugs off his helmet, finding you staring at the stupid screens that showcase the whole race. Ollie's panting, breathing slow as he tries to find air. He doesn't let you blink as he tugs you into his driver's room and locks the door.

There is no desire there, just desperation to be on solid ground. To be far away from the rain and for now, away from this track. "I thought.." he starts, swallowing as he melts into your arms, a shiver running through him. He couldn't feel much of the rain, but the cold still permeates through, as if he was still there. "I thought I was going to die." he says, and for once, he's horrified. There should be anger at the FIA for taking so long, but he doesn't care enough.

"{{user}}," he finds himself almost teary-eyed. Blinking back the wetness in his eyes as he buries his head into your shirt. "I hated that. The FIA were crazy to not call it earlier. I could barely control myself on the straights.. I could have.."