Lilly & Leclerc ~ [CL 16]

20. Tennis

I gasp for breath, tying my hair back into its neat ponytail, flexing my wrists before reaching for the racket again.

"You ready to go again Fleur?" Charles asks, there's a dusting of sweat on his forehead. I'm pretty sure it mirrors my own as I take a quick swig of cool water gasping after drinking a little more than intended. It's entirely my own fault for being in this position.

Charles had returned from his Monaco trip early this morning, a little bleary eyed and certainly a little more tanned than when he left. He brought me back a beautiful Cartier bracelet that I couldn't help but gape ag, eyes wide as Maddie fought back tears. "You always wear gold, it's okay right?" Charles had asked nervously once it was secured on me, I just continued turned my hand around assessing the bracelet up close eyes still wide.

Maddie gasped at his question pressing a hand to her chest before answering for me. "Adorable you know that and yes, it's perfect!" Before running out of the door to work. I had just laughed at the absurdity of Charles's question (and in disbelief at the cost of the gift) before nodding and pulling him close to me for a kiss.

Of course it was okay, it was perfect. Not only because it was Cartier and gold (and Charles was right I always wear gold), but because it was from him.

When I asked him how the trip was he hummed, explained that dinner with his friends was 'okay' enough but he drank a little too much wine and ended up with a throbbing head the next day. He'd ate breakfast at his mother's house, pills of Advil paired with his coffee - much to her entertainment. "Playing padel with Lorenzo was hell." Charles had groaned as I chopped up some vegetables for dinner last night laughing quietly at his dramatic groaned words.

"Brings me to the question: what the hell is padel?" I couldn't hide the confusion on my face as I pushed some of the veg into a roasting tray. Charles only mirrored my expression.

"It's like...tennis and squash together." He said with a shrug. Maybe it's some fancy sport I had never heard of because only those who drive boats in the marina's of Monaco and travel the world for a living play. "You know?" He asked as I just narrowed my eyes, not quite knowing.

"Actually I've never played either - but I can imagine." I had hummed, not thinking anything of the words. Of course I've heard of those, even watch Wimbledon each year when it's on, but I never played tennis when I was younger and I always thought squash was...old. And that was the end of the conversation.

At least that's what I thought.

This afternoon when I finished work with a small yawn, my hair clipped back with a purple butterfly clip, body warm from the sun streaming into the office (also known as Amber's old room), Charles had stood in the living room almost bouncing on his toes. He was like a puppy. Glowing with excitement as he pulled two brand new black tennis rackets and a tube of fluorescent yellow-y-green tennis balls from behind his back, apparently that's what he'd done this afternoon when I was knee deep in spreadsheets: scope out sportswear stores for tennis equipment. He'd even researched nearby tennis courts, booking one out for two hours this evening.

Charles nudges my foot with his, flicking the condensation of his water in my direction making me giggle. The cool water on my clammy skin feels nice, too nice to complain about it. He grins at me in victory for making me laugh before screwing the top back on his water. He looks just perfect right now, light and happy, skin kissed with his dark hair a little lighter than when I first met him. He's wearing black jogger shorts and a grey Puma sports top which stops at his biceps (thank god). It's meant I've been completely drooling every so often when he hits a particularly strong backhand shot in return to my comparatively weak ones. For one of the first times when we're out together he's not wearing a cap or sunglasses because we're tucked away in the back court of a local tennis club - there's nobody to see.