CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT | Charles Leclerc

Chapter 12

Charles' pov

Waking up to the feeling of regret will forever be the worst way to wake up.

Somehow without an ounce of alcohol in my system, I was still able to be a dick to the sweetest woman around, and I'm really not sure how to come back from it.

I've checked my home screen probably 100 times since I opened my eyes, praying that she'd sent a message asking what happened, why I acted the way I did, although I really don't know why I did.

I think it was seeing her having fun with someone else made me so jealous that I didn't want to even see her. Or maybe it was seeing her so intoxicated worried me, but why would I display it with anger?

I am stupid.

I really debated back and forth whether I should message her, as, at this point, it didn't seem as if she'd message me. I want to tell her everything. I want to tell her I'm sorry. I want her to know that I don't know what's going on. That I feel something different when I'm around her and I don't know how to stop it. She makes me feel some way. But how? I barely know her and I'm definitely not one to believe in love at first sight.

After a while of debating back and forth, I thought to myself, fuck it. I had nothing to lose, I guess.

Although now scripting the message was my next problem. Do I go formal? Or informal? I feel like I can't act like nothing happened last night. So maybe formal? And I should make sure I ask how she's doing, to make sure she knows I care.

I begin typing into the chat, without trying to think too much about it.

Hi Luci, I hope you're not feeling too bad after last night. I'd really like to talk at some point today if you're free at all. Let me know if/when you think you can. Thanks, C

I clicked send without second guessing myself in hopes to avoid my personal embarrassment.

It took a few minutes before I saw the bubble appear at the bottom of the screen showing she was typing. It felt as if she was typing for ages, although when the message she sent was short and straight to the point. I felt my heart skip a beat. How was I meant to read it? Could she be busy? Is she angry? This is why I hate texting, you can never tell people's tone.

******

Throughout the rest of the morning I felt my heart beating a little quicker under my shirt as I worried for the conversation I was going to have in the next few hours. I wasn't sure when she'd make it to the track, I was hoping it wasn't until later so I could spend longer debating what I should say.

But as if it was fate, my phone buzzed in my back pocket as I had the thought and I could practically tell it would be her.

'Hey Charles, I'm on the way now. Should be there in 10. Would you be able to talk then?'

Shit.

I hadn't even left to get to the track yet, but I didn't want to leave her without an explanation and apology any longer than I already had.

'Sounds great'

I replied as I quickly picked up the rest of my belongings and bolted out the door to my car so I could quickly make my way to the track.

I really hope she's okay but I don't know what to expect.

-Authors Note-
I'm sorry for another quick chapter but I hope you enjoyed Charles' pov! I love our stressed queens and how they don't know that the they feel the exact same about one another 🤭
Icl i really am not about to cope with another two weeks of no races but I'm just hoping for some good content while we wait 😩
Love you lots,
Bels xo