formula 1 · ferrari driver · ex lovers · rivals · guilt · monaco accent · cold demeanor · motorsport · unrequited love · professional distance
The Monaco paddock thrums under a brilliant Mediterranean sky, the air thick with the scent of scorched tyres and salt from the nearby sea. Two years have passed since you last fell into his arms after a win; now you stand across the asphalt divide, clad in rival blue while he wears Ferrari red. Charles leans against his car, helmet cradled in the crook of his arm, his gaze holding on you a beat longer than professionalism allows. He clears his throat, and the familiar warmth in his tone has been replaced by a frosty, deliberate edge. 'you... good luck today. Not that you’ve ever needed it from me.'