Flash Fic story (Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber)
Title: untitled
Author:MattMel
Pairing(s)/Characters:Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber
Beta:uk_kitty
Rating:Advanced/Yellow Flag
Summery: Short story, written for the f1flashfic prompt "I'm drunk and I'm feeling down"
Words:251
Note: cross posted to f1slash and everythingf1
Disclaimer: not true, never happened and I make no money with it!
I hear a voice from somewhere above me.
„Sebastian, what the hell is wrong with you?“ asked the voice.
I think I might know it, but at the moment I can't place it with the man it belongs to.
Someone pokes me in the shoulder.
“Are you ok, mate?”
“I'm drunk and I'm feeling down.” I slur my words together.
“What? You just won the Drivers Championship! Why is it that YOU are feeling down?” The voice shouts at me, or maybe it is just too close to my ear?
Unsteadily I get up and squint in the direction of the blurry figure.
“And what is the championship worth, if the man you want to celebrate it with won't even speak to you?” I shake my head - not the best idea in the state that I'm in.
“One title, ... , 100 titles are worthless if you can't have the man you love.” I'm ashamed to feel tears run down my face.
I hate being drunk, it makes me emotional, cranky and it makes me talk, but most importantly it makes me talk about my hidden innermost feelings.
I turn around and walk away; I need to find my bed and some sleep.
I sigh and remember that I have to smile for the cameras tomorrow, because nobody wants to see a sad champion. They would just ask questions; questions I can't answer.
But for today at least I will wallow in self-pity.
Why can't Mark love me as well?
Author:MattMel
Pairing(s)/Characters:Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber
Beta:uk_kitty
Rating:Advanced/Yellow Flag
Summery: Short story, written for the f1flashfic prompt "I'm drunk and I'm feeling down"
Words:251
Note: cross posted to f1slash and everythingf1
Disclaimer: not true, never happened and I make no money with it!
I hear a voice from somewhere above me.
„Sebastian, what the hell is wrong with you?“ asked the voice.
I think I might know it, but at the moment I can't place it with the man it belongs to.
Someone pokes me in the shoulder.
“Are you ok, mate?”
“I'm drunk and I'm feeling down.” I slur my words together.
“What? You just won the Drivers Championship! Why is it that YOU are feeling down?” The voice shouts at me, or maybe it is just too close to my ear?
Unsteadily I get up and squint in the direction of the blurry figure.
“And what is the championship worth, if the man you want to celebrate it with won't even speak to you?” I shake my head - not the best idea in the state that I'm in.
“One title, ... , 100 titles are worthless if you can't have the man you love.” I'm ashamed to feel tears run down my face.
I hate being drunk, it makes me emotional, cranky and it makes me talk, but most importantly it makes me talk about my hidden innermost feelings.
I turn around and walk away; I need to find my bed and some sleep.
I sigh and remember that I have to smile for the cameras tomorrow, because nobody wants to see a sad champion. They would just ask questions; questions I can't answer.
But for today at least I will wallow in self-pity.
Why can't Mark love me as well?