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Summary
The air in the paddock is electric as always. The flock of riders, mechanics, team principals, stewards, journalists, vip guests and relatives strutting busily around the circuit. Even after being having been part of it for years Lorenzo is sure he will never get used to it, the fact he’s a bit introvert doesn’t help either.
But Lorenzo loves his job nonetheless, he loves the ever present roar of the bikes, the smell of gasoline, the adrenaline that races give. He shakes hands with a few people smiling politely as he moves around the parc fermé, trying to arrive in time for the press conference. But then he catch a glimpse of once sun kissed hair, golden tattooed skin and baby blue eyes and it feels like time has stopped.
Or: I'm back to Lorenzo x Jaume bc, apparently, I'm obsessed with them