Mon Amour | 𝑪.𝑳

Part 11

Lyla could remember a lot of events from her life:

The day her father told her about Michael's accident, finding out that Michael Schumacher would never be the same man that he was, the day that her mother was declared a missing person. The day that her mothers car and suicide note was found. The day the body was found and how she couldn't bring herself to enjoy her fourteenth birthday. The first time she drank alcohol just after that fateful birthday, how it made her forget about everything in her life and made her emotional pain physical.

Finding out that her fathers cancer had returned and how this time it wasn't treatable. Watching him slowly dying, knowing that she couldn't do anything about it or even attempt to help him get better. Him dying as she held his hand. Sitting on the grass next to Jules Bianchi in 2014 as he asked her to his the flower girl at his wedding before making her promise to look after Charles for him if something happened to him during a race.

Asking Jules to walk her down the aisle at her own wedding...

Jules' accident at the 2014 Japanese Grand Prix. The many months after it. Being told that Jules would never wake up. When she first used drugs, how the feeling of pure nothing became addicting. The many times she'd felt like giving up but didn't want to go out like her mother had done. Being told by Pascale that Hervé was going to pass away just like Jules, her mother and her father had done in recent years and promising the same thing to him that she had to Jules regarding her best friend.

Lyla knew that she hadn't lived a proper life, her entire 23 years of living had been tainted with sad memories and the deaths of her loved ones...

She awoke to the sound of her alarm ringing, surprisingly finding the apartment silent and empty as she made her way through from the guest bedroom. Normally, Charles was awake by now – having gone out on a run and showered – but there seemed to be absolutely no sign of life from his bedroom.

The next hour ticked by and she eventually grew concerned enough to knock on the door.

"Charles?" She questions into the darkness.

"Mm." she heard his muffled groan from somewhere inside.

Lyla stepped further into the room, thanking the sun for the small amount of light that it was producing through the gaps in the blinds which allowed her to navigate the mess scattered across the floor. She reached up to the blinds with one hand and drew them open, turning to face her best friend who was laid out on the bed, concern filling her eyes.

She approached him and sat down, her weight making the mattress sink which forced Charles to open his groggy eyes.

The Monegasque looked like a complete and utter mess. His hair was soaked with sweat, the brown strands sticking to his forehead, his entire body was caked in sweat and despite this, Charles was wrapped up in the duvet like it was the middle of the Arctic. His cheeks were red but the rest of his face was pale and Lyla could tell from just one glance to his eyes that he had no energy at all.

"You okay?" She knew the answer but asked anyways.

"No." His voice was raspy, letting out a small cough after the words.

He buries his face back into the pillows as Lyla manages to press the back of her hand to his forehead, concern only growing and a frown forming on her lips at the temperature which radiated from his skin.

"Charlie, your boiling." She mutters.

"No." he mutters back, voice muffled. "It's like the arctic in here."

Normally, Lyla would tease him about he was being dramatic, but he was indeed shivering slightly. Lyla couldn't help but sigh as she tied her hair back into a ponytail, standing up and pulling the blinds closed again.