Under the helmet | Charles Leclerc

~Chapter 7~

I wake up to the sound of an alarm, and Charles loudly groaning, my head pounding, again, and again, I don't recognise the ceiling. Then it hits me. I'm with Charles.

"Shit, Shit, we're gonna be late." Charles shouts.

"Could you not." I groan at him.

"Wait, shit, did we-" He asks. Realising I have no clothes on, and I notice his bare chest. And everything hits me, we had sex.

"Shit, we did, didn't we." I look over at him, he clearly doesn't remember much.

"Do you need water and tablets?" He asks, concerned as I press my hands against my head, he gets up.

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind." I groan in pain, getting up.

"Do you need a hoodie as well, and a ride to yours?" He shouts from the kitchen.

"I'll take the hoodie, but I'll get a cab, don't want you to be late." I shout back at him.

"Don't be silly, amor, your apartment is on the way." He informs me, reassuring me as he comes back with the water and tablets, as well as throwing me a grey hoodie.

"Thank you, Perceval, and from what I remember, last night was a great celebratory night." I smirk at him.

"I can only agree with you there, amor." He winks at me.

I quickly put my hoodie on and I grab my dress and heels and underwear and wait at the door.

"Shit, there's gonna be paparazzi, Charles." I point out to him.

"We'll have to run past them." He holds my hand.

We go into the lobby and press the 'ground' button on the elevator and quickly brace ourselves before leaving to face the cameras, and there are more than I expected, probably because they saw us leaving together last night. The only thought I had was shit. I cover my face with one of my hands and he pulls me to his ferrari which he gets into and I quickly get into as well. He wheelspins his way out the car park and drives quickly through the Bahrain streets to my apartment. I quickly go in and get changed and get ready whilst he turns the car around, I notice Rosa asleep, however, both sides of the bed are messed up. I shake my head and run back out the apartment back to Charles.

We then drive to the paddock, and I scroll on Instagram, one main photo popping up from last night, Charles carrying me out the club, me looking half dead. They saw us leave together, hence paparazzi being at his the next morning. I refresh the page and there are already a few accounts that have connected the dots, they have the picture from last night and a picture from this morning. Viola is going to be so mad at me.

"Shit. Charles. The media knows it all." I stutter.

"What." He raises his voice sternly, not really questioning me but definitely a serious tone. Suddenly his phone rings and connects through to his car. The name read: 'Babe ❤💖💘'

"Charles. Who is that?" I ask, sternly, knowing exactly whats happened. I look at him, seeing a different man sat next to me than who I saw two seconds ago. He glances at me and declines the call.

"Charles. Stop the car." I ask sternly, he doesn't stop the car.

"I can't, just wait till we get to the paddock." He attempts to reason with me, not hearing the pain I'm in.

"Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc. STOP this fucking car." I snap at him, sternly raising my voice at him, not looking at him but death glaring anything ahead of me. He finally slows the car and stops the car.

"Engine off. NOW." I demand, sternly, shouting the last word. He turns the engine off and looks at me. I saw pain and confusion in his eyes, though they weren't genuine like Max's the other day, there was a slight distance and coldness in his eyes, like he didn't care.