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vettelsvee · 3 days

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who tf is david? i only know fernando

03; HOME SWEET HOME | NOT IN LOVE

(this graphic was made by stardxxst on wattpad, who is the creator of the main plot too)

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a/n: hii, how you been doing?? I decided that i'm gonna try being more active in tumblr. Anyways, if you want to be add to the taglist just let me know! Thank you for reading <3

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The sun was setting behind the horizon, painting the sky in warm tones while I was immersed in the complicated task of choosing the perfect gift for Alessia. His eyes would shine with that special sparkle when he unwrapped the package, and that was what he was looking for. But between the shelves full of stores and the pressure to find something unique, my mind wandered to another, more immediate problem.

My family in Spain had sent an invitation that, clearly, I could not avoid. An early party for my birthday. The reason? I still didn't fully understand it, but the simple idea of returning to that home where the sighs outweighed the laughter filled me with anxiety. I was faced with a crossroads of emotions as I walked through the city, oblivious to the flickering lights of the stores around me. My relationship with my family was never easy. Although geographical distance had given me an illusory sense of freedom, the echo of disagreements resonated in every phone call.

My thoughts raced as I walked down the street, trying to evade the reality that was coming. Why, after so many years, did they insist on organizing something for my birthday? It was like my family was trying to force a connection that never germinated.

As I weighed the options for the perfect gift, the shadow of the family invitation lingered in my mind. Should I give in and return to Spain, facing the family I abandoned overnight, or look for a plausible excuse to stay and avoid that unexpected and uncomfortable celebration?

My steps slowed as I fell into deep thought. Despite the thorns in my relationship with family, a murmur of nostalgia and family duty began to take over my thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. Even when past experiences weighed on my back, a small inner voice whispered to me that perhaps the time had come to face them.

Arriving home, the bustle of Brackley was left behind, leaving me alone with my decision. The reality of the invitation became more tangible with each passing minute. I took a deep breath and, with determination, decided to give that family gathering a chance. After all, people could change, or so he wanted to believe.

As I opened the door, the homely atmosphere enveloped me, a mixture of bitter memories and the hope that this birthday could mark a new beginning. With my heart pounding, I headed to my room determined to face the situation. A quick search online and I got a flight for that same afternoon. The sooner I was there, the sooner I could get back to my routine.

The open suitcase on my bed was quickly filled with the necessary clothes. I wanted this trip to be brief, like ripping off a bandage in one go instead of slowly. The idea of the early dinner for my birthday resonated like a clock ticking every second until my departure.

In the process of packing, my phone rang, announcing a message from Alessia. Her excitement when talking about her upcoming birthday reminded me where to buy her the perfect gift once she arrived in Spain.

The door to my room closed with a click, leaving behind a trail of uncertainty and anticipation. The road to Spain stretched before me, and as I zipped the suitcase, I knew that this trip could change everything and, maybe, just maybe, we could become the family we pretended to be in front of everyone for so long. With a sigh, I headed towards the airport so that this torture would end as soon as possible.

The flight passed in a whirlwind of thoughts. I looked out the window as the plane descended over the familiar Spanish land. The nervousness grew with each passing minute, but I kept telling myself that this trip wouldn't last much longer than this weekend. Upon landing, the Spanish storm hugged my skin, a constant reminder that I was back home. I took a taxi to the family home, surrounded by vineyards that stretched as far as the eye could see. The aroma of fresh grapes filled the air, a mix of nostalgia and familiarity.

My parents, busy among the rows of vineyards, barely looked up when they arrived. Although part of me expected a warm welcome, I remembered that in the family, work was the priority. I entered the house, where the stillness mixed with the echo of my own steps.

The afternoon progressed, and I decided to take a walk through the vineyards. The sun cast golden sparkles on the green leaves, and the silence was interrupted only by the whisper of the wind among the vines. Every corner evoked childhood memories, some bitter, others full of innocence.

Upon returning to the house, the aroma of home-cooked food wafted through the air. I would love to say that it is my mother who is cooking but it is Carmen, the woman who took care of me throughout my childhood. By her side, as always, was Rocky with puppy dog eyes, begging for some of what she was cooking. I whistle at my dog, who, when she notices my presence, runs towards me and starts jumping.

“Victoria!” greets the woman with emotion. He approaches me and hugs me tightly. “Come here, let me see you,” he asks, bringing my face towards the light. “Look how pretty you are but you are very pale. Have you eaten anything?”

"The sun doesn't shine much in England," I tell her.

“How is everything there?” I lie down on the floor to be at Rocky's height to hug her. When I left, I decided that maybe it wasn't good to put her through all the stress that comes with her traveling with the rest of the luggage, so I left her here.

“Pretty good, the work is good and I'm traveling a lot. I'm happy," I say with a sincere smile. “How is everything going here?” Rocky climbs over my legs and leans his body against my chest.

“As always, things don't change here. You were right to leave, I'm telling you,” she says while stirring the paella. “That boy... What's his name?

“My brother?”

“No! The one you were dating.”

“David.”

“David!” she remembers. “That one comes here and starts giving orders as if he were the king. I don't know who he thinks he is... After what he did to you, Victoria.”

“Yeah, it's the power that my parents give him, I guess.”

"Well, let everyone go off on it, I'm already tired," she complains. “I'm the next to go, listen to me.”

“How long have you been saying that?” I get up and go over to hug her while I watch her cook.

“I even lost count. How old are you?”

“I'm going to turn 33.”

“Well 35 then because they called me to take care of your brother and then you came to…” the kitchen door opens and I can see my mother, who is in charge of looking at me from top to bottom, as if she were looking for some mistake in me.

“Victoria, I'm glad you arrived” she comes closer and gives me two kisses. “Why don't you get out of the kitchen? You're going to be filled with the smell of food.”

“I'm fine here.”

"We have to talk, Victoria, please," he insists. I share a curious look with Carmen but it seems that she doesn't know much either.

We left the bustling kitchen, leaving behind the familiar aromas of dinner. The fresh stone floor creaked under our steps as we entered the vineyard, enveloped by the darkness of the starry night. The moonlight illuminated the vines, which spread like a green blanket before us.

"Victoria, I need to talk to you about something important," my mother began in a serious tone, interrupting the rustling of the leaves under our feet.

The tension in the air made me frown, and a mix of curiosity and apprehension washed over me. What could be so crucial that we move away from the comfort of the kitchen?

"You've been away for a long time, but there's something you should know about your brother Manuel," she commented, her voice carrying with it the weight of years dedicated to the family business.

My brother has always been immersed in the wine business. From an early young age, he had taken the helm with a dedication that I consciously avoided. The idea of spending my life among vineyards and wine barrels was never attractive to me.

“Manuel has worked tirelessly to grow our legacy,” my mother continued, her eyes reflecting undeniable pride. “He has invested time and effort, and I want you to be aware of that.”

I tilted my head, not entirely sure where this conversation was going. Why highlight Manuel's achievements now?

“Victoria, dear, the reason I'm telling you about this is because I've made a decision. As a birthday gift, I have decided to give you my share of the company.”

My steps faltered. My mother kept walking, but my mind was caught up in the magnitude of her words. The family business, which never interested me, was suddenly being handed to me on a plate, or at least part of it.

“Why now?” I asked, seeking to understand the reason behind this sudden generosity. My mother never does something just for the sake of it, and I know there is something hidden behind all this.

“Because I want you to understand how important it is for us, for your brother. I want you to be part of this, to follow the path we have traced with your father,” she explained, her gaze searching mine with determination.

An internal debate broke out inside me. I always wanted to make my family happy, but that didn't mean immersing myself in the world of vineyards. Responsibility loomed over me, and I felt caught between the desire to please and the struggle to maintain my own identity.

We walked in silence for a moment, the shadows of the vines falling across the ground. Finally, my mother broke the silence.

“Victoria, I just want you to take your time to think about it. This decision does not have to be immediate but I would like to have your answer before you return to England. Your father's share will go to your brother”.

So it's not a gift, it's a division of power. “And if I say no, who will get your part?”

“Well, we were thinking about giving it to David so that the company stays in the family.”

“But David is no longer family.”

"David, Vicky," she pronounces maliciously, knowing the effect that nickname has on me, "is the brother that Manuel never had. You know he will always be family, no matter what.

The night breeze gently caressed my face as I absorbed my mother's words. In the distance, the city lights twinkled like distant stars, and in that moment of shared silence I found myself facing a crossroads that would change the course of my life.

Upon arriving at the house again, the atmosphere seemed tinged with nostalgia and expectation. My father, who was normally immersed in his own world of responsibilities on the phone, looked up and greeted me with a genuine smile.

“Victoria!” He exclaimed, extending his arms to hug me. “What a pleasure to see you here again!”

The warmth of welcome enveloped me, and for a brief moment, we seemed like a united family, like the one we always pretended to be. My brother joined the hug and, laughing, the distance of the months seemed to shorten.

“We are very glad that you decided to come, Victoria,” commented Manuel, his eyes reflecting sincere affection.

However, the calm was abruptly broken when a familiar voice echoed behind me. “Vicky, how long! What a joy to see you again!”

I turned around, and there was David, my ex-boyfriend, with a smile that couldn't hide his arrogance. Surprise and discomfort washed over me as he approached to greet me.

"David," I murmured, without hiding my confusion.

"Yes, my name hasn't changed at the moment," he said with a laugh that I found unbearable.

I tried to hide my discomfort, but David's presence revived wounds that had not yet completely healed. My family smiled and were satisfied at the reunion but I couldn't feel worse.

During dinner, David joined the conversation as if no time had passed, as if he hadn't shattered my trust not only in myself, but in the world. He talked about his accomplishments and his travels, and although his presence was known, I felt like an intruder in my own home.

Discomfort settled on the table like an unwanted shadow. Every forced laugh and unnecessary comment from David echoed in my ears. While my family seemed to enjoy his company, I was sinking into a feeling of unease. Every time Carmen came to serve a plate of food, we shared a look filled with the same discomfort.

I dedicate myself to observing each member of my family and David, who is wearing an engagement ring on his left hand. Within a year he managed to leave me and get engaged to another woman, a record. As I spiraled into looking at my ex's ring, a warmth on my leg caught my attention. I look down and find Rocky's little eyes looking at me so I pet her.

"Victoria, please, we're at the table," she scolds me.

“Excuse me?”

“Don't pet the dog now, it can wait a little. There is a visit.”

"I thought David was family, I didn't think it counted as a visit," I counterattack.

"Don't put me in this position..." she warns.

“You were the one who started to give your opinion.”

“Well because it seems that you have lost your manners, girl. First I find you sitting on the kitchen floor with the dog and now you pet her on the table.”

“She's my dog, what do you want me to do?”

"Take her to England," my father looked at her surprised at that answer because he loves Rocky as much as I do.

“Don't worry, she's leaving with me tomorrow.”

“Enough, both!” my father says.

I inhale and exhale, ready to leave the matter behind but my mother won't keep her fucking mouth shut."I thought England would make it a little more civilized, I'm telling you," he exclaims into the air. I leave the napkin on the table and get up.

“I'm going to take a breath. Excuse me.” I went out to the patio of the house and let out the breath I had held without even noticing. Rocky went out with me so he curls up at my feet, like every time I get stressed. A few steps behind me make me sigh before speaking. “We're fine, Carmen,” I say, referring to Rocky's feelings and mine.

"Well, I'm glad you are, but I'm not Carmen," David says gracefully. “I wanted to know how it went for you in England.”

“No one has died from starting from scratch, right? At least that's what they say.”

“Yeah, but I bet it wasn't easy.”

“I've had to go through harder things with you, believe me,” I murmur and smile when I feel my eyes fill with tears. “But you got married. Who is the unlucky one?”

“Isabel, my…”

"Your secretary," I said for him. Now that I'm a secretary, I can't imagine how someone could end up involved in that way, especially when they have a partner. I couldn't touch Toto with a stick, not only because he's my boss but because he has a wife. I remember her well.

“You remember everything very well, eh?” he responds, trying to make the atmosphere a little lighter.

“I remember it very well, all too well.” I cross my arms and try to focus on the vineyard a few meters from the garden of my house.

“Are you dating anyone?”

“Yes, I married my job.”

“Being a secretary? Vicky, please, you know you can do more than that.”

“Well, your fiancee is a secretary, if I were you I would be careful what you say.”

“Yes, but she's not…”

“She's not what?" I ask offended. I don't like this Isabel, she cheated on me with her, but I'm not going to allow her to continue putting down each of the women in her life for the simple fact that she feels like the navel of the world.

“She doesn't have the same capacity as you.”

“Are you never going to change?” I question with pain. “Are you going to be the same idiot all your life who absorbs the energy of his girlfriends until they are left with nothing?”

As difficult as it was at the time for David to leave me, I realized that it was for the best because, in one way or another, it had followed the same pattern as with my previous relationship, which ended in an altercation with physical violence. David never raised his hand to me, I know he wouldn't dare, but he used me, minimized me and made me feel like the dumbest and most useless person in the world and that is also violence. As difficult as it may be, we must break the pattern before the pattern breaks us.

"I'm not going to discuss that with you."

“Why not?”

“Because I left you for a reason. You were unbearable and demanded too much." I look at him in disbelief as he lets out those words with resentment.

"Seriously, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, I hope that one day you grow up and are able to see everything you lost, David," I end the conversation. I entered the house and, as I walked away, he was left behind.

I would be lying if I said that his words didn't hurt me. That my heart wasn't twisting under my ribs trying to find a nook through which to escape and return to his side. It doesn't kill me that the idea that, after so much love and so many years together, this was the end of us. However, they say that time puts everything in its place. I just hope it helps me be me again.

Without saying goodbye to anyone, I go to my room, whose door I close with a sigh of relief. Dinner had been exhausting and the idea of rest was tempting, so I got changed, opened the door for Rocky to sleep with me, and started searching for local news on my phone.

I was about to leave it and go to sleep but my eyes wandered to a specific note. The name "Fernando Alonso" caught my attention immediately now that I have seen the Spaniard. He is not a person that I like at all, but something about his media presence manages to capture my interest. With a hesitant gesture, I decided to take a look at that interview.

The dim light of the lamp illuminated the room as I immersed myself in the pilot's words. Although my initial intention was simply to browse, I surprised myself by reading every response, every detail of his life that was revealed on the screen.

Fernando Alonso, the man who tries to conquer me as if we were in high school, is a complete idiot. He couldn't deny his talent, but his attitude in the past had left a bitter and contradictory taste. Who goes to work for someone they don't even know?

As the interview progressed, I found myself falling into the trap of his charisma, unraveling layer by layer the mystery that surrounded his figure.

In the corner of my mind, I was trying to convince myself that I was an idiot, someone worthless, but my eyes remained glued to every printed word. Why spend time on someone who, in my own judgment, wasn't worth my attention?

The irony of the situation did not go unnoticed. I tried to convince myself that I didn't care, but there I was, immersed in the virtual pages of the life of a man who, in theory, should mean nothing to me.

At the end of the interview, I closed the screen with a determined gesture.

"It's not worth it," I tell Rocky, "it's not worth it," I tell myself.

I decided to push those thoughts aside and focus on what really mattered at that moment: the decision that loomed over me like a shadow. My parents were waiting for my answer regarding participation in the family business.

The night progressed, and as sleep caressed my eyelids, I faced a vital crossroads. The possibility of returning to England and leaving my mother's offer behind was always present, but something in the atmosphere of the house, in the look of my family, made me hesitate.

The next day, I woke up with a clear decision. My heart, although trembling, was inclined to accept the offer and, not because I was interested but because I am not willing to let an idiot like David continue to take anything from me.

I went down to breakfast with a resolution that was reflected in my eyes. My mother, seeing me, smiled with expectation, while Manuel and my father waited with serious gestures.

"I've made a decision," I announced calmly. "I accept the offer but I have several conditions that you will have to accept if you want me inside." My mother gestured for me to continue. I couldn't care less about wine. I will own half of the company but don't ask me to be here because I'm tired of you dragging me into your shit, especially you,” I exclaim, pointing to my mother. “Manuel has done a wonderful job and I find it disrespectful to barge in on him. On the other hand, I'm not going to leave my job at Mercedes if that was your intention.”

"Your mother and I will continue to manage everything," my father clarifies. “The only thing I would change is your signature on the contract but you don't have to leave anything.” The smile he gives me makes me understand that he means it.

“Where do I sign then?”

The silence that followed was broken by a relieved sigh from my mother and a proud smile from Manuel. My father nodded approvingly, and although the feeling of commitment weighed on my shoulders, a small spark of hope shone within me.

In the hustle and bustle, Alessia kept sending me excited messages about her birthday, reminding me of the pending task of finding the perfect gift. I think I already have it. Nearby there is a place where they sell handmade instruments, you could order a violin and have it carved with your name.

Finally, later that day, my flight would leave and, yes, Rocky would come with me. My parents, aware of my commitment to work, did not insist that I stay; I doubt they would have done so anyway.

Upon arriving in England, the familiarity of Brackley enveloped me. The city, with its familiar streets and warm afternoon light, reminded me of the decisions I had made and still had to face.

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#f1 #f1 fanfic #fanfiction #formula one #formula 1 #fernando alonso #f1 x reader #fernando alonso fanfic #fernado alonso x oc #not in love #fernando alonso x reader #Fernando alonso x yn

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