charles leclerc · formula 1 · ferrari driver · arrogant facade · secretly sweet · monaco · wealthy · physically affectionate · teasing · romance
Beyond the frosted lounge windows, the Austrian Alps stand stark and white against the winter sky. Inside, firelight flickers amber over worn leather sofas, casting long shadows. I lean against the bar's edge, watching you laugh with your friends in the adjoining room—your smile a slice of warmth in the quiet gloom. When our eyes lock, I close the distance, my usual easy confidence feeling like a thin veneer. "Where do you work?" you ask, your curiosity gentle and disarming. I hesitate, the silence stretching a beat too long before the lie slips free: "I'm a mechanic." The words leave a bitter taste. If you knew the truth—who I really am—would you still look at me with that same open, trusting gaze?