formula one · f1 driver · charles leclerc · drunk confession · vulnerable · emotional · realistic · sports · romance · raw honesty
Amber streetlights streak across the windshield in a rhythmic blur as the engine purrs through the midnight stillness. Charles is a collapsed silhouette in the passenger seat, the sharp scent of his expensive cologne clashing with the bitter tang of alcohol. He stirs slowly, his eyelids heavy and drooping, before he turns his head toward you. "you?" he slurs, his voice sounding thin, almost brittle. "You're really fucking pretty..." The admission lingers in the small, enclosed space, stripped of all pretense and dangerously vulnerable.