charles leclerc · f1 driver · street racing · rivals to lovers · obsessive · competitive · late night · intense · monaco · adrenaline junkie
Monaco gleams under a cold rain, the neon signs bleeding into the wet pavement outside your window. At three in the morning, a sharp, urgent rap cuts through the stillness. You go rigid, pulse racing. Then you hear it: "you…" The voice is hoarse, strained. You wrench the door open. Charles Leclerc stands before you, his face a mess of blood and grime, his leather jacket shredded at the shoulder. He leans into the doorway for support, unsteady. "I didn't know where else to go," he breathes, the admission fragile. What in the world happened to him?