6 years, 4 months and forever

1. go to hell Leclerc

"Mady you broke up four months ago please find a skimpy dress in the massive wardrobe of yours and get your arse in the uber, your coming out with us", you rolled your eyes as much as you loved your best friend Emma she really was annoying. You broke up with Charles 4 months ago and you'd spent every night since he moved out of the apartment at home with a romance novel, a pasta dish, and a laptop full of media work to do although on the plus side sky hadn't put you on any f1 placements and you had managed to get back into the gym and get a whole lot more organised, your fridge even had plastic containers for fuck sake. after 20 minutes of protesting you squoze your arse into a black lace dress.

when you entered Monaco's most notorious club, you went straight to bar for two consecutive shots of tequila to rid you of the nerves, the packed club was bouncing and the music was deafening. you definitely had more than one more drink and after an hour you found yourself on the dance floor with a pair of hands snaked around your waist, he was tallish about 5,10 if you had to guess with the richest brown eyes and he smelt like laundry detergent and vodka. you could feel his breath on your neck, the exact spot on your neck Charles always used to find his way to knowing it gave you butterflies. the music was loud but not loud enough for me to be unable to her the dirty comments the guy was making as his hands explored my waist and arse that moved into him as you danced. then you saw him, two green eyes filled with frustration and lust watching you lose the finally part of you that still belonged to him. you had refused to admit to Emma and your friend you hadn't even kissed anyone since Charles, you were more so lying to yourself because no one could live up to lord Perceval himself. clearly they knew each other because the second he notices me he waves at my dance partner, when I look back over Charles isn't on his own anymore, he has a blonde girl on his lap, i chuckle knowing she isn't his type my smile disappears when Charles smirks ands stands up, takes her hand and leads her to the nearest bathroom. my heart sinks.

somewhere in between losing Charles and your new friend you ended up on a table with a margarita, then you her someone shout your name, "Madeliné Bianci", you immediately recognised the subtle French accent in his voice, "in person, Mr Leclerc". you refuse to turn around scared if he gets any closer to you you wont be able to resist him. "get down were going home", "I'm going home Charles you can home with whatever girl you just left in the bathroom". he rolled his eyes know he wasnt going to win this argument especially against a heavily intoxicated Bianci. "it worked mads you got my attention, lets go". you froze, did he really think you were doing al this to make him jealous, does he really think you've spent the last 4 months crying over him whilst hes been living it large on the formula one stage banging girls in club bathrooms when he doesn't even know their name. you scoffed climbing off the table leaving you drink on the bar picking up your phone and bag. His presence engulfed yours and his fruity scent sent you dizzy, you walked up to him pulled his unbuttoned shirt toward you, "if you think you can ever look at me again Charles I wouldn't", he gripped your arse and started sucking your neck like everything you said to him didn't matter when you were inches away from, looking into his green eyes. "go to hell Leclerc".

before you even began to walk away Charles already had you over his shoulder and was storming through the club to find the exit, you tried to protest but Charles already had you in the car and half way to your old apartment. once arriving you were reluctant to allow him to follow you through the doors but an angry Charles always got what he wanted. you finally unlocked the door, and rather than fighting him you walked straight to your room to get showered and changed.  when you came back out he was still sat on the sofa staring at the photo of the Monaco track you took the first time you went to the paddock as his girlfriend that was hanging above the tv. "why haven't you changed the locks Madeliné". you were shocked "what do u mean Charles"-"my key it still unlocks the doors"- "I dint know Charles ive been busy I haven't really been focused on changing the locks and I think its time for you to leave" - "you've clearly been in the gym but my gym hasn't been touched my water bottles still on the matt next the weight I was using before we started arguing, so why haven't you been in there, and theres a box in the kitchen with a label that says 'Charles <3' which means you've redone the kitchen but choose to put all my stuff in a box with a label mads, my wardrobe still has the clothes I left hung up and the shirts I left in the draw are now in your laundry, on every single wall in this house is a picture from the 6 years we were together, you still have all the harry potter films on the tv and you've watching my onboard every race" you hadn't even noticed but you were now sat in the chair opposite Charles streaming from your face, "your trying so hard to act like you hate me but its almost as if your pretending in just away for the weekend", you looked up "I do hate you Charles, I hate your stupid smile, I hate your stupid reasons, I hate your friends, I hate your job" he looked at you motioning his head for you to carry on "I hate how in 6 years we were together I was never your first priority, I hate how when we broke up I lost the only person how was there for me when my brother died, I hate how you never fought for us Charles, how you never fought for me" he stared at the floor, you stood up walked to the bathroom and slammed the door. after two minutes he opened the door and picked u up, he placed you down on the right side of the bed, "Charles you need to leave" he looked at you "Bianci you haven't even changed the sheets, you've left my book on the side of the bed. this is me fighting for us now if you tell me you dont love me ill pack up everything I left in this apartment and ill go and you can pretend I never carried you out of the club, you'll only ever have to see me at family dinners", the tears started again as you looked down at the number on your wrist, 1:24.6, he knew that was the record he set for the fastest lap time ever at Monaco. He began climbing into bed next to you pulling your waist into him "Charles" you slightly moaned, he moved the hair which had fallen down the side of your neck "I think if u told me you didn't love me I wouldn't believe you" he moved your wrist and kissed the tattoo "this proves my point". he turned the light off and in that moment as wrong as it felt you'd craved this for 4 months so it was tomorrow problem.