Mon Amour | 𝑪.𝑳

Part 14

TW: Panic Attack

After the chaoticness of the day and all the reminiscing, Lyla found herself sat on the edge of her bed in her hotel room with her head in her hands.

Her childhood memories from around the paddock with the older drivers were things she had pushed deep, deep down in her mind and locked away in a box which she didn't like to open. There were plenty of videos on the internet of Lyla when she was younger but many people no longer made the connection between the person she was now and the child she had been since she didn't act, sound or even look the same as the young girl from all those years of chaos.

Lyla's memories could be considered her kryptonite...

Although, the young French-Italian woman was disrupted from her thoughts by the ringing of her phone. Turning her head to look over her shoulder and grabbing the device from its place on the mattress, she didn't even give the contact a glance before swiping to answer the call.

She was greeted with faint, heavy breathing which made her eyebrows furrow in confusion. Lyla pulled the device to eye level, eyes widening at the contact name displayed before pushing it back to her ear.

"Charlie," She whispers.

A sob entered her ears.

Lyla didn't think she had ever moved as fast as she did in that very moment. Cursing to herself in a mixture of French, Italian, English and Spanish as she rushed from her hotel room and down the corridor. Falling against the wooden door of Charles' hotel room and finding herself begging him down the phone to open it.

The minute she was inside the room, she dropped everything she had been holding and wrapped her arms around Charles' neck. His knees buckling and bringing both of them to the floor. Lyla manoeuvred his body around, Charles pressing his head against her chest desperate to hear the sound of her heartbeat as he held a hand over his chest.

"Follow my breathing." Lyla whispers. "Everything is okay."

"I-its not." Charles stutters out.

He didn't seem to be calming down from the attack. Lyla pushed him to sitting up, cupping his face in her hands and using the pads of her thumbs to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He followed her breathing, making sure to never break eye contact with her until the panic attack was over and he could fold into the safety and comfort she provided.

"I've got you." Lyla mutters. "You're okay."

She kissed the top of his head, feeling him wrap his arms around her torso.

"What happened?" Lyla asks.

"I don't know." Charles replies.

He sits up, running a hand through his extremely messy hair – Lyla guessed he had been running his hand through it before deciding to phone her. Lyla's eyes softened at the look in his. Pushing herself up to standing and pulling Charles up to lead him over to the bed where they sat down. The Monegasque let his head fall against her shoulder.

Her fingers ran gently through his hair, the sun streaming in through the windows set perfectly on the pair making them look like they were in a scene from a movie. Lyla's free hand made a grab for Charles, his eyes casting down when he felt her touch on his skin and his fingers loosening from the fist he hadn't even realised they were scrunched up in to allow Lyla to thread hers through his to stop him from breaking the skin on his palm with his fingernails.

"I'm sorry." Charles whispers.

"Why are you sorry?" Lyla asks, resting her cheek on the top of his head.

"You always have to come running to me."

Lyla didn't say anything. She turned her body sideways on the bed causing Charles to sit up straight, their hands breaking apart because of their positions. He cast his head downwards, biting hard on his bottom lip and doing anything that he could think of with his hands to stop his brain from making them form into fists once again. He only looked up when she cupped his face in her hands once again, eyes scanning his which had brimmed with tears from his words and the situation he continuously found himself in all the time.

He looked away, not wanting to cry once more.

"Charles, look at me." Lyla says, trying to pull his gaze back to her. "Charlie."

He turned his gaze to her briefly, not meeting her eyes.

"I choose to come running." She says. "I always come running because I know what your own mind does to you and I'm not going to let you go through this shit alone."

He looked away from her, unable to keep looking at her as she spoke. The only reason he looked back was because he felt her thumb wipe a tear from his cheek which had apparently fallen.

"Don't you ever apologise because I do that." Lyla continues, voice becoming stern.

"But you shouldn't." He sighs.

"That is my choice, Charles." Lyla says, making eye contact with him. "Its my choice to come running. I will always come running and nothing you say will ever change that."

"I love you." Charles whispers.

"I love you too." Lyla replies with a sad smile. "Do you understand what I'm saying though?"

He nods and Lyla finally drops her hands from his face. Charles leans forwards, placing his forehead against her chest which allows Lyla to press a kiss to the top of his head, one of her hands lacing through his to stop him from making his hands into fists and the other moving to rub his back as a way to try and give the Monegasque some comfort. After a few minutes, Charles moved his head to rest in the crook of her neck, shuffling his body closer to hers before falling asleep. Lyla unlaced their fingers, her other hand having moved from rubbing his back to running through his hair.

Panic attacks were something that Charles quite often struggled with, like the average person he hated whenever one came around because he felt like it made him look weak and he didn't like looking weak. He didn't know what they stemmed from. Him and Lyla had guessed it was something to do with Jules' accident back in 2014 and the many months afterwards. Charles had never had one of his attacks alone - Lyla had always been there to help him so she always knew the signs of him about to have one and what to do when it inevitably happened. The two had also made sure to tell Sebastian about what Charles liked to call 'his issues' so that the German could be someone else other than Lyla who could help Charles during their time as teammates. 

The attacks were always scattered and the timings random. Over the years, both had come to realise that he had more around the death anniversary's of his loved ones compared to normal but over the recent year he seemed to be having them a lot more even if there wasn't a form of anniversary looming over his mind. Sebastian had put it towards Ferrari and everything going on within the team at the end of the 2020 season and Lyla only just now seemed to be understanding what he had meant by that.

She cast a glance down at her best friend, who had fallen asleep in his position, letting a sigh fall from her lips.