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angel-inrealtime · 1 year

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November F1c Prompts Day 14

A/N: I have been looking forward to one of the days coming up for so long lmao posting to a schedule??? Who is she idk her. This is another Daniel POV because it again just occurred to me like this and refused to happen any other way.

Day 14 - Taste (Bitter)

She’s right, bitterness doesn’t become him. But fuck it, he thinks, if he doesn’t get to be bitter at this point in his life, he never will. He’s allowed. She tells him he’s allowed, all the time, as much as his therapist does; he’s allowed to feel it.

(It’s just what he does with it, and what it does to him)

He’s proud, he knows this. He’s been too proud, before. Never too proud to apologise, if he’s been a cunt to her (not that he makes a habit of it, and she certainly doesn’t let him get away with it) but sometimes too proud for his own good, maybe. Maybe it's just hindsight, or growing up.

The Red Bull contract is exactly what he wanted, to the letter. What he asked for and what Christian made happen, only took one look at him, feeling like a shell of the cocky idiot who left nearly 5 years ago, and said ‘leave it with me’.

Max had checked on him, in his blunt and uncompromising way. There’s something comforting about it, something that feels like home.

The contract sits on the kitchen island in New York, in the apartment they rent whenever they stay here, and he looks at it until his eyes burn and blur from not blinking. The Mercedes one is in his backpack still.

(‘doesn’t that tell you everything you need to know?’ he hears it in her voice in his head and he feels warm and frustrated in equal measures; at his best, when he’s not exhausted constantly like it feels like it’s all he’s ever known, is to be exhausted, they’re perfectly matched in trusting their instincts. Now...he can feel his brain getting snagged on all of the what ifs. The frustration of wanting to make the right decision so badly it feels like a need, instead of the solace of knowing he’ll be okay regardless, better for the experience and what he learns even if it’s not right)

He’s felt filled up with bitterness, before, so much he could taste it. But then at least, eventually, the hard work had started to pay off in the car. He got the girl, in the end.

'Only because she was patient with you', the bitter part of him thinks. Only because they had space around the miscommunications and misunderstandings (and God there were so many, he wouldn’t have blamed her for deciding it was all too hard, so not worth it, not agreeing to come to Perth for Christmas again and not looking up at the stars with him). He doesn’t want to think about what the last few years would have been like without her picking him up when the missing home, missing his family, the poor results, had felt like a knife in him that he couldn’t move around, letting all the bitterness out in snide remarks and unkind words (to her and to everyone).

Her hands are familiar on his shoulders, thumbs straight to the spots she knows he keeps all of the tension in his body.

“The whole city can hear you thinking, sunshine.”

He didn’t even hear her come in over the sound of it. She kisses the back of his neck and he shivers a little, her skin cold from the air outside.

“What if it’s not...what if it’s wrong, again?”

She’s quiet for a moment, steps closer so her front is pressed all the way against his back where he’s sitting on the bar stool. “It’s exactly what you wanted. And I mean...exactly. You wanted those things for a reason.”

He nods. “I did. I...do.”

“So what makes it scary?”

He can feel himself get prickly, the implication that he’s afraid (even though he knows he is). “It’s not...scary, just...” He pulls a face and forces the words out of his mouth – can picture her hiding a smile into his curls as he catches himself. “Well…maybe. A bit. But what if I’m wrong?”

“About what you want? And need?” She says it so gently that it feels more like a gentle reminder than a reprimand. She kisses him behind the ear, one hand threading into his hair to scratch against his scalp. “I know people have fucked with your head. I know the last few years have. I get it. But I think you can trust yourself on this one. You’ve thought about it and talked it through enough. Your reasoning is sound.” She affirms, curling the other arm around his chest so her hand lands over his heart and it’s like he can feel more of the bitterness leave him then and there, like she’s draining it away so there’s room for other things. Good things. “And whatever happens, you’ll be okay. We will.”

Daniel breathes.

(See, feel, hear, smell, taste)

Fridge, sink, camera, pen, bull logo.

Counter, barstool, his ring, her hands.

The clock, the city ambience from the cracked open window, her breathing behind him.

Coffee, her perfume.

Copper from biting his own mouth to shreds.

(But not bitterness)

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