lovespeed • charles leclerc

chapter 6

Seated at the edge of the paddock, I scrolled through the familiar photos on my phone. The bustling world of Formula One went about its business, while I delved into memories from a time when Charles and I were still friends, before the years stretched between us like a taut rubber band, ready to snap.

Flashback

We found ourselves in an ice cream parlor, the array of flavors mirroring the spectrum of our laughter. Charles ordered a flavor so daring it could make your taste buds do a double-take, and I couldn't help but poke fun at his adventurous choice. Our laughter, like a duet, harmonized with the tinkling of the shop's bell.

As we wandered through sunlit streets, we swapped stories from my last birthday party, an event that could rival a comedy show. One anecdote, in particular, painted a vivid picture - the memory of us attempting a dance move, only to become a tangle of limbs and a pile of burst balloons. That memory, like an old song that could still make you tap your foot, had us gasping for breath between bouts of laughter.

Charles led me to a quiet spot, disappearing briefly. "Okay, open your eyes," he whispered, presenting a bouquet of handpicked flowers that he had hidden behind his back. "It's for you," he admitted, his usual confidence tempered by a touch of shyness.

A warmth spread within me, like a gentle sunrise after a long night. I couldn't resist embracing him, my elation overflowing. "Where did you find these?" I inquired, curiosity dancing in my eyes.

"I have my ways," he replied with a wink, and I regarded him suspiciously, playfully challenging his answer.

"Charles Leclerc, you didn't..."

His confession spilled forth with a laugh. "Okay, I might've 'borrowed' them from someone's garden."

"Charles!" I exclaimed, a mix of shock and amusement in my tone.

But before our laughter could fully subside, a distant shout reached our ears. He grabbed my hand, urgency in his gaze, and together, we sprinted as though we were racing against the wind. We finally sought refuge in a cafe, our chests heaving with exertion and amusement.

"Phew," he exhaled, a blend of exhilaration and mirth in his voice. "We made it."

Between breathless laughter and exchanged glances, I rested against the cafe counter. "Stealing flowers now?"

He shrugged, his gaze lingering on me with a warmth that needed no explanation. "They looked beautiful."

It was a moment that transcended words, a snapshot of unspoken feelings.

As I revisited those photos, the past felt vivid and immediate, like a long-lost friend reappearing after years apart. Those memories were more than just images; they were treasures, waiting to be unearthed once more. Amidst the symphony of Formula One engines, I couldn't help but wonder if the emotions we had left unsaid still echoed softly, like a forgotten melody, waiting for its moment to be heard again.