STAY THE NIGHT || Charles Leclerc

THREE

Thursday, 6 January 2022

After a few more episodes of Gogglebox, Charles finally persuaded me to stop and eat some lunch. He'd made pasta with some of the homemade pesto I had made earlier in the week. I enjoyed cooking, and had been trying to perfect my pesto recipe for a few months now, and I think I had finally got it right.

"Mmm Olly," Charles said as we ate the pasta "Did you make this sauce?"

"Yup, do you like it?"

"It's beautiful. I think you've finally got it right"

"Thank you, I'm glad you like it"

After we had washed and cleared up, we headed to the local supermarket. Charles insisted on driving my car rather than his, partly so that he wasn't spotted as easily by fans, but also because he loved my car. It was a light blue 1969 Fiat 500 with a double clutch. Apart from the color, it was identical to one that Charles used to own. His had broken down a few years ago, with its damages unable to be repaired. Since then, I would often let him borrow mine on occasions as I knew how much he loved the little car.

The journey to the supermarket only took us a few minutes, probably spending longer looking for a parking space than the drive from my apartment. Charles, forever the driver, insisted on taking control of the trolley whilst we wandered up and down the aisles of the store. He acted like a mix between a child and a driver when shopping, begging to put certain items in the trolley, then sprinting with the trolley round corners, trying to get as best "racing line" as he could. At one point, his childlike antics caused him to almost hit another shopper, at which point I stepped in and decided to drive the trolley instead. Charles sulked along beside me, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his trousers and head hung, visibly disappointed that I'd ruined his fun.

"Charles stop acting like that"

"But I wanted to push the trolley"

"I let you push the trolley Charles, then you almost hit somebody. So now it's my turn"

"Not fair" I heard him mumble

"Life's not far, Charlie. You and I both know that. Now, we still need to get passata, pasta, chicken, fresh tomatoes and rice."

*

"Charles, can you grab the passata for me please? I can't reach it"

"Sure" he said, reaching up to grab the passata on one of the higher shelves

"Olivia? Is that you?"

I turned around to where the voice had come from, further down the aisle. I immediately recognized Mrs Moretti, the old Italian lady who's cafe I sometimes helped out with when I wasn't at university. I hadn't been able to see her for a while as I had been falling behind on my university work.

"Mrs Moretti! So lovely to see you! How are you?"

"Ah, I'm doing okay dear. And how are you? How are your parents?"

Tears started to fall as I heard Mrs Moretti's questions. My parents were gone.

"They're... they're not here" I managed to stammer, the pace of my breathing quickening

"Oh, really? I thought you said that they would be coming to visit you soon?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice had left me. Nothing came out. I tried again, with the same result. My breathing had become rapid, coming in short, sharp breaths. I began to break out into a cold sweat as I stared forwards, lost in my own thoughts. Various memories of me with my parents flashed through my mind like a film. Hiking through the moors with my father, baking cakes and pastries with my mother, them both singing happy birthday, driving along country roads with the windows down, waving goodbye in the airport as I began a new life in Monaco...

"Olivia" hands were placed on my shoulders, partially bringing me back to reality "Olivia, look at me, follow my breathing. In...and out... in... and out"

I recognised Charles' voice, and the hint of fear that was laced through it. He knew and had seen me have panic attacks before, but not for a long time. I attempted to follow his instructions, but my breathing only seemed to become more erratic. Charles' hands moved away from my shoulders, taking hold of my left hand. The pad of his first finger began to rub circles on my palm, something he knew I often did when I was anxious.

"Come on Olly, follow me. In... and out... in... and out"

After a while, my breathing began to return to normal. Charles was standing in front of me, slightly crouched so that our eyes were level. My vision was blurred slightly from the tears that I held, and I could see Charles' were the same.

"Olly..." Charles began

"Charlie" I lifted my hand towards my face to wipe away my tears, breaking the eye contact between us

"Oh Olly" Charles pulled me into a hug, his chin resting on my head as I began to sob into his chest. "Let's get you home"

A/N: Sorry if this chapter is shit, I honestly hope I've managed to describe Olly's panic attack realistically. If not, feel free to give me some advice ;) Next week's upload will be from Charles' pov...

CopseCorner x