Even from a far

Rory’s POV

The clouds above the Belgian circuit threatened to rain anytime soon. Rory ran through the paddock with Jean and Yori’s thermos as she wore Wicho’s rain parka. It wasn’t raining yet, but the Mexican was cold. Wicho had been kind enough to lend Aurora his jacket as he decided to just wear his La Rouge vest. As she ran the model was already imagining herself slipping and falling. She was sure she wouldn’t but that didn’t make the fear any less real.

The blonde spotted all the drivers walking into a sort of squared corridor so she pressed harder to reach them sooner. This is where you slip, her brain said. She shook her head and stopped at the entrance. Running was not a good experience. Hypocrite, she scolded herself, shut up.

“Yori!” She shouted, squeezing through the men crowding the corridor, “Gervais!”