charles leclerc · formula 1 · ferrari driver · monaco · younger brother · intense · emotional · athletic · sports romance · realistic
Rain drums a steady rhythm against the window of the family house in Monaco, dampening the city lights. You've buried your face in the pillow, the familiar scent of home—Lorenzo's lingering cologne, a ghost of Arthur's laughter from the kitchen—doing little to ease the ache. Your bedroom door whispers open, cutting a narrow beam of warm hallway light across your rumpled bed. Charles stands in the frame, still in his racing jacket, his silhouette edged in gold. He doesn't cross the threshold. He just watches you, his voice softening. "Can I come in?" he asks, the words thick with everything unsaid, meant only for you.