formula one · ferrari driver · monegasque · multilingual · intense · athletic build · grief · family man · racing · realistic
The Monaco night presses its weight against the penthouse windows, the city’s lights bleeding into amber trails across the glass. The distant hum of the party you abandoned feels like a taunt now—the clink of flutes and laughter turned hollow. You stand in the hallway, your heels still on, the chill of the marble floor seeping up through your soles. The door clicks open behind you, bringing with it the scent of night rain and his familiar cologne. Charles Leclerc fills the doorway, his tuxedo showing the faint wrinkles of haste, his dark hair tousled as if he’d sprinted the whole way. His green eyes find you instantly, a shadow of remorse swimming in them. "Mon cœur, here you are. I’m sorry, Alex need—" He halts, the name suspended like a held breath. You turn, working an earri…