LEGACY/// FORMULA ONE (3)

THIRTY

THIRTY

"I'VE TOLD YOU ONCE BEFORE AND I'M TELLING YOU NOW!"

Charles Leclerc furrowed his eyebrows together as he arrived outside the door of his best friend's house in Italy, since Pierre had invited him to Milan for a few days.

"STOP STEALING THE FUCKING BATTER WHILST I'M TRYING TO BAKE!"

"BUT IT TASTES SO GOOD!"

"I DON'T CARE! I WILL SHOVE THIS WOODEN SPOON SO FAR DOWN YOUR THROAT THAT IT WILL COME OUT YOUR-"

The screaming was abruptly halted as the Monégasque's knuckles knocked on to the door.

The door was pulled open by the French man that he had come to see, as Charles noticed that Pierre had cake batter on his fingers which he was rapidly trying to eat.

"Bonjour..." Charles trailed off awkwardly as he stared at his best friend.

Pierre motioned his head inwards, signalling that the Leclerc boy could walk in before he walked away silently, as the Monégasque followed him.

"Is it Anthoine? Or Esteban? They said that they were on their way." Larissa Cohen spoke as she baked, her attention solely on the bowl in front of her.

"Nope." Pierre spoke, his voice muffled from eating the cake batter.

"I thought that more people would be here by now." Charles' spoke broke the Brazilian out of her trance immediately.

Larissa's head snapped towards him, her mouth open in surprise, her dark brown eyes widening at the sight of him.

She had barely spoken to him since she had been mad at both Pierre and him, and she felt bad by the look of guilt across his face as he stared back at her.

She placed the bowl on to the counter before walking over to him, her arms snaking around his waist as his shot to her shoulders and holding her against his chest.

"Je suis désolé, Coração." She spoke, her voice muffled against his chest, feeling him tightening his grip around her slightly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, ma princesse. I am the one who is sorry." Charles whispered in to her ear, closing his eyes as he inhaled her scent.

Larissa's eyes shot open after a couple of seconds, before she burst from her place against his chest to grab a towel.

She snapped the towel on to the back of the Gasly boy, hearing his scream in surprise at having been caught stealing batter from the bowl.

"Petite chienne!" Larissa yelled at the French man, as she aggressively grabbed the bowl from his grasp, seeing his fingers coated with cake batter once more.

Pierre looked to Charles for back up, but found the Monégasque smiling brightly, shaking his head.

"Tonio! Esteban!" Pierre looked to the two new arrivals as they noticed the murderous glare that he was recieving from the Brazilian.

"Nope! I choose life." Esteban smiled, shaking his head as he hung up his jacket.

"Please, don't make me choose between the two of you." Anthoine pouted sadly as he noticed Pierre's frantic and desperate face.

"I have a fan club, HE does not!" Larissa raised her voice as she never took her eyes off the French man who had contaminated her cake mixture.

"But I've known them for years!" Pierre responded.

"So have I!"

"I'm more important than him!"

"No you're not!"