Pole position // Charles Leclerc

41

Mias POV:
I wasn't sure if I'd just heard him correctly. The bet was the last thing on my mind at that current moment in time, but it was the first thing he'd said after waking up, after passing out.

I saw him jump from the car and pulled the headphones from my head, rushing towards the doors of the garage and waiting for him to appear.

It took 3 minutes and 30 seconds for the world to know if he was okay. And in those 3 minutes and 30 seconds I thought he was dead.

I saw the emergency car pull up at the door and  I was pulled back inside by Mattia.

'There's a lot of press out there right now. Wait for him to come inside where you can see him privately.' He warned.

'I don't care about the fucking press.' I snapped, releasing myself from his grip and rushing towards him, burying my head deep in his chest.

He was leant against the door of the car but held me tightly, his hands shaking as he massaged the top of my head softly.

'We need to get you checked over, Charles.' A medic said softly, her hand on his shoulder.

'I'm okay. Get her some water though, please.' He said, signalling to me.

'Charles, let them check you.' I whispered, looking up at him for the first time since I'd jumped into his arms.

He had a few cuts on his forehead, but that was all that was visibly wrong with him. He was so lucky and he knew that. A crash into the side of the barrier, leaving him hanging on his side for minutes whilst the car threatened to burst into flames. Survivors were unheard of.

'We'll go inside together, angel okay? I'm not leaving you.' He whispered, protecting my face from the cameras, walking slowly with me through the garage and into his drivers room.

'I'll be through in a minute Charles.' His medic called, leaving us alone in the room together.

His race suit was hanging down at his hips and his hair was sweaty and erratic, his hands bruised and covered in dirt.

'I thought.' I started, my voice getting caught in my throat.

'Shhh, hey, come here.' He whispered, pulling me towards him so that I was sitting on his lap.

Despite just being in the worst crash of the year, he seemed to be absolutely fine, and I felt guilty for being even more worked up about it than he was, so I tried my hardest to calm myself down, wiping my tears away.

'It's okay to be scared. You don't need to pretend with me.' He said, breaking my cover.

'You're the one who was in the crash.' I argued.

'But I'm fine, and I know that Im fine. But I know somewhere in your head you're still thinking about what if.' He said, leaving small kisses on my cheek.

'You ignored me all week.' I mumbled.

'I was too scared to see you again after knowing I walked out on you. Fuck, you're all I've thought about.' He responded, his shaky hands finding their way to my chin.

'Why didn't you just text me?' I asked.

'Because I wanted you to come to me when you were ready.' He responded.

'I'm ready. I was too scared to lose you, but lost you in the process. I swear, Charles I'm ready.' I said, placing my forehead on his.

'You never lost me, love.' He whispered, leaning forwards and closing the gap between our lips.

It started slow, sensual, as I took in the feeling I'd been missing all of those weeks I didn't let him kiss me. Letting out the pain and sickness that I felt in those moments where I thought he was gone forever.