Precious Star

Preziosa

Charles POV:

She's glowing. She is glowing as bright as the stars tonight. Admiring her, as she is standing where she belongs, up on that podium united with the stars. I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for her, the pride that I knew Jules and her father are feeling. Seeing her there I didn't see her as Alaina Senna, daughter of Ayrton Senna. No. She is Valentine Alaina Senna, Formula 1's first female driver, making history.

Looking up at her watching her every move as Max lead her off the podium with his hand placed on her lower back. She can walk on her own without any assistance, she won this whole thing without anyone's assistance. Suddenly, she went out of his grip and turned in my direction. She sent me a confident wave with a smirk on her face. Taken back from her suddenly, all I felt was my mouth slightly drop and my eyebrows raise. Watching as she turned back to head off the stage I couldn't help but smirk at her action.

Although her action was mainly out of pettiness and wanting to arouse my anger even more, I couldn't help but feel happy and relieved. It was as normal as it was before. Before the incident.

~

Walking into the club my eyes naturally found themselves looking for her. There she was, seated between Carlos and Max, giggling about God knows what. What can be so funny that she needs to lean on Max, he's not even that funny. If it were Daniel or Lando, she could laugh that hard, but Max? Come on mate.

"Charles, we thought you would never show up!" Max called out as I approached the table.

"I would never miss this for the world. After all, we are celebrating Alaina, right?"

As I looked into her eyes, those gorgeous amber eyes, I saw myself. Whether she liked it or not, or whether she would realize it or not, we were both very alike. Our stories are mere replicas of each other, waiting to be conjoined. Given our history, the tension between us could be clear to anyone. But as I said, we were both very alike, meaning we both did what we knew best. Hide and deny. But that's the thing about being so alike, we were both able to read each other perfectly."Who's ready for round 3?" Cheers erupted around us as she stood up, not breaking eye contact with me before heading over to the bar.

Quickly following her to the bar I found myself leaning against the bar, "I thought you didn't drink much, Senna?" From what I recall, she absolutely hated drinking. 'Sanno di piscio di mucca.' ['Taste like cow piss'] was how she explained it.

"And I thought you would realize that I left because I wanted to be anywhere but near you. Yet here we both are," she replied, leaning over the counter to ask for more shots.

"That was a nice stunt you pulled back there," I watched as her head slightly tilted to the right, meaning she was confused. A head tilt to the right, confusion. A head tilt to the left, intrigue. "That little wave on the podium?"

"Oh, that! I was just waving at my teammate, no meaning behind it," she shrugged grabbing the first shot the bartender had placed down in front of her.

"Yeah, well it felt a little petty to me." I watched as she quickly downed three shots in less than five seconds. This won't end well if she continues.

"You see, that's where you're wrong, Leclerc. I was not being petty, it was an innocent wave. You interpret it as you wish,"

"You should really take it easy, Alaina."

"The same way I take my turns easy?"

"You and I both know you one are lightweight, and that was six shots back to back. And two, your turns are too rough, you need to brake earlier."

"Those should be none of your concern, Leclerc," she said before I watched her head back to the group. God, she could be so stubborn sometimes. Just like Jules and just like me.

Two hands gripped my shoulders before shaking me viciously. "Mate, mate, mate. You gotta understand you are nowhere near her league," Pierre slurred as he took the place she was previously sitting in.

"No, no, no. There is something there, I see it. I feel it," Carlos butted in as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"You are both clearly seeing something that is not there," I assured them as I leaned my elbow on the bar, watching as the two looked at each other before turning to look at me, then at Alaina, and back at each other.

"Bet!" They simultaneously said as they shook hands.

"$20 they won't be together by the end of the season," Piere grinned, looking proud as ever.

"$20 they will be together BEFORE the end of the season," Carlos grinned as well.

Rolling my eyes and patting Carlos as I made my way back to the group, "My money's on Gasly."

~

From across the couch, I watched intently as Alaina held onto the tequila bottle, drinking out of it every five seconds. Before I realized it she has downed a little over half the bottle. Approaching and ripping it out of her hands, making sure not to do it too harshly in case I hurt her, "Alaina, you just drank half of the bottle."

"Ridammelo, non l'ho finito," [Give me that back, I wasn't finished with it] her words clearly slurred from her all the alcohol in her system.

I looked around looking for Carlos or Max to take her back to her hotel but I saw them at the bar, the same or possibly worse than Alaina right now. "Cara mia, you're beyond drunk. Let's get you to your room. Come on, up up," [My darling] I watched as she attempted to lift herself off the couch, which she was able to do, However, she quickly started falling over as her knees buckled below her. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her waist stopping her from going headfirst into the floor.

"Carlitos, muchísimas gracias," [Carlos, thank you very much] I guided her arm around my shoulder, allowing me to get a better grip on her. Which evidently caused her to lean her whole body on me.

"Carlos? I'm not Carlos."

"Maxie! Take me to my room, I literally cannot walk," grabbing onto my face, she squeezed my cheeks making my lips pucker. A chuckle couldn't help but escaped my lips. I missed this. I missed being able to be this close to her without her pushing me away.

"Alaina, what's your room number?" I knew were placed in the same hotel floor, but I had no idea what her room number was. I watched as her face scrunched in discomfort as her body slowly started to go more and more limp.

"I don't know Max, just let me crash in your room tonight," she whined. God, she couldn't even tell who I was. If she were even the slightest bit sober she wouldn't even be talking to me right now. "Are you sure? I can ask the secretary up front-"

"Max if you don't get me in your bed right now I'm going to crash on this floor and I will not budge. My feet are tired, my body is tired, I am tired." Her words slurred again before she went limp again, signifying she had passed out. I kept my grip around her waist before I picked her up bridal style and took her to my room. Carefully placing her on my bed I made sure to take off her heels. Covering her with the bed sheets and ensuring her head is placed in the right position so she doesn't choke on her own vomit. Safety precautions, of course. I brushed some hair out of her face before running my hand down the side of her face. She looked surreal. How can someone, in such a condition, look like this? She radiated peace and comfort. It has been years since I last saw her so calm and unguarded. If we are being honest, the last time she was like this was before Jules. Being pulled out of my thoughts was the sweet sound of her hum and the slight smile growing on her face, subconsciously she buried her head further into my hand.  "Buonanotte, preziosa." [Goodnight, pecious].

~

I may or may not have the finale already written out 🤭

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