: ̗̀➛ part three of the
one for the road series
SNOWFALL / CL16
in which two childhood friends reunite. a formula one driver wants to learn how to snowboard and it just so happens that the daughter of his mum's be...
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✧ ˚ · . CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT. · ˚✧ my house of stone, your ivy grows
monaco, march 2023
I was once again struck by the beauty of the southern coast as the sun set tantalisingly slowly over the horizon, bathing the highlights of Charles' face in a soft, warm orange. He was explaining, with a proud smile on his face, that this natural display of art was the exact reason why he had chosen this restaurant—why he had insisted we visit it tonight on our (bi-)weekly date night. Life had become so chaotic recently that it seemed this was the first time we could sit down together in two weeks, with preparation for Saudi Arabia cutting our time after Bahrain short.
I hadn't realised exactly how intense Charles' life behind the scenes was until it played out before my eyes. Of course, having followed Formula 1 for almost my entire life, I knew it was more intensive than most sports and included many flights and jet lags and a lot of training, but now, having witnessed one race weekend personally and the other through a screen, it was finally hitting me how much of a sacrifice (a welcome one, at that) it was for not only the drivers, but everyone around them as well.
That being said, Charles' time away in Maranello was most definitely paying off, since the added reason we were here tonight (on such short notice) was due to his win in Jeddah. He had managed to overtake Max on the very last lap of the race, leaving us all (Alfie, Lorelai, mum, Celine and I) on the edge of our seat throughout the entire two hours. Charles' happiness was infectious; he kept catching happy and proud expressions from people in the streets of Monaco and returning them in tenfold. Today, he shone as bright as ten thousand suns.
"Australia?" Charles suggested, eyes glistening with a familiar shimmer of hope, the slightest tug of a puppy dog pout on the corner of his lips. He was armed and ready to support his suggestion, a continuation of a conversation that he had been trying to have with me ever since I landed back in Paris after Bahrain. He had enjoyed my presence so much, he said, that he wanted me at another race as soon as possible.
The glowing ball of happiness inside of me at the scene and Charles' happy attitude immediately faltered a little bit. I took a sip of my water, and then another of my champagne, and then sighed softly. "Charlie..."
The tug on his lips intensified into a full-on pout. There it was: his shining silver armour. "Please?"
"I can't, I have to be on site for that château on Friday and I have back-to-back meetings on Monday. Australia's on the other side of the world, baby," I said, as gently as I could. I wanted to go, I really did, but I needed to think about my career, and my own health as well. I wasn't as well-versed in anti-jet lag skills as Charles was.
Charles sighed, nodding solemnly. "I get it. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be pressing."
I reached forward to thread my fingers through his. "It's okay, I understand. I want to be there, I hope you know that."
