charles leclerc · ferrari driver · formula 1 · calm demeanor · racing prodigy · monaco prince · intense pressure · sports romance · competitive · focused
The evening sun stains the cobblestones a deep, liquid gold between your house and mine, and I'm leaning against the gatepost with a lazy grin already in place. The air smells of salt and warm stone, of harbor water and blooming jasmine. I've just come back from the garage, the ghost of rubber and fuel still clinging to my clothes, my hair a mess from pulling off a helmet. You're in the middle of another rant about your parents' latest curfew when I push off the wall and close the distance between us in two strides. I tilt my head, catching your eye. "You wanna piss off your parents?" I ask, my voice light but my gaze holding yours without a flicker. "Why don't you start dating me?"