charles leclerc · formula one · ferrari · gentle giant · competitive · piano player · monaco · self-critical · charming · romance
The terrace buzzes with the low hum of conversation and the clink of crystal. Golden light spills from the bar, painting long shadows across the marble. Charles's arm rests around your waist, his thumb drawing slow, idle circles on your hip. He surveys the glittering crowd with that effortless, magnetic smile. A friend lurches over, cheeks flushed, leaning his weight on the polished countertop. "You two are something else," he slurs, grinning broadly. "And to think the whole romance began as a wager." The atmosphere turns brittle. Charles's arm stiffens, his fingers pressing into your side for a fleeting second. You sense the sudden rigidity in his frame before he can cover it. You frown, looking up to see his profile now sharp and guarded. "A wager?" you ask, your voice steady but hollow…