Lilly & Leclerc ~ [CL 16]

15. Date

Charles was longer than he planned. That much was made clear when that same number that interrupted my afternoon at Luke's lit up my phone screen. This time I decided he at least deserved to be saved a contact. After a handful of long minutes chewing over whether to name him 'Charles' or something more playful, I eventually settled on his full name. Anything more would feel too intimate - at least for now.

Charles Leclerc
I'm very sorry Fleur

Charles Leclerc
They've been discussing tyres for fifteen minutes

Charles Leclerc
Now they want Carlos and I to choose the tyres? I don't understand this.

Charles Leclerc
Are you still there?

I laughed reading all of his messages, replying to the final one with a simple 'I'm here x'. He replied with a smiley face, before promising once more to not be too long.

I'm flicking through the pages of his 'success' book (who'd have ever thought it would have a picture section?!) when Charles bursts back into the room. He knocks the piece of paper which was taped to the door so briskly that it flitters to the floor between us. When the monegasque's eyes find me, settled on the red sofa tucked into the wall, book in hand, his every feature relaxes shoulders falling a few centimetres as a smile takes over. He dangles a red stringed pass from his fingers swaying it in my direction.

"Sunday is the best I could do on short notice." Charles explains as I examine the pass carefully, taking it in my hands. It's the same as my Mclaren pass only red and reads 'guest of Charles Leclerc'. Something in my chest stirs at the text. His guest.

"Charles." His name comes out a little tighter than I mean from my lips. I take a quick breath reminding myself to relax. "You didn't have to do this." I tell him, because he really didn't. Lando has already sorted everything and I told him this but I won't complain.

"The Mclaren garage will be too busy for you to watch there. So watch in my section." Charles explains simply, this all as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Maybe it should be. I just can't fully allow myself to believe it. There's an effort here, as there seems to be with all of his decisions which revolve around me. "I didn't have to, but I wanted to Fleur." The casual words choke me and I don't know what to say so I just thank him quietly, my fingers pressing into the sharp sides of the white and red plastic pass so it cuts into my palm.

"What more do I have to do to show I want you?" Charles mumbles to himself and I freeze in my place. My back straightens as a weight settles in my stomach as an uncomfortable tension hangs between us. Charles wanted me to hear that, I know he did - if he didn't he would've said the words in French, or Italian, or maybe another language he suddenly knows. Who knows what he's been doing in his spare time between May and now.

"Charles." This time his name is said with a warning edge that I intend. We've had this conversation, months ago, I made my position very clear.

Only, my position was me saying that this (whatever it is between Charles and I) was only ever a holiday fling, that there was nothing more to give. If that's the case why have I been so desperate to hear his voice when he calls? Why was I so nervous when he was presented to me barely an hour ago? Why is my heart racing in my chest with the sight of him and body hot under his gaze? Why am I still here?

"Fleur." The man infront of me counters, smirk falling onto his lips with the name. There's a glint of mischief dancing on his face as warmth spreads through me. Is he teasing me? Or being serious? Either way, he seems immune to my internal panic.

"Let's not do that." I warn softly with a shake of my head, glancing down at the garage pass in my hands. It even has a picture for the pass, where he got it from I'm not quite sure.