Charles Leclerc
The rain is pounding against the windows as I pull into the only remaining parking space near the entrance of the paddock and, because god seems to have it out for me right now, right next to the Porsche Max has rented for the weekend. Of fucking course.
Opening the door of my own rented Ferrari, rain running down my bare arm as it had not been pouring when I pulled away from my hotel some minutes ago, I glance into his car. At least god is not vengeful quite yet it seems, the car is empty. I should not be avoiding him, like the first nine races this season, it is stupid and immature and not very nice of me but he did not understand when he called me repeatedly the weeks after the wedding. We cannot to together, I had told him many times, I have worked to hard for Jules to lose Ferrari over something as stupid as a man. And eventually his calls stopped. Then the texts. And finally, the pictures and video clips my accomplishments that had been our only form of communication between our huge fight all those months ago and the slow rebuilding of our friendship. It does not mean I have not watched from a far.
Max has been doing very well this year, he has been on podium eight of the nine races so far this season and has been switching back and forth as winner and 2nd with Lewis. It is quite wondrous, made better by the fact that Max dripping in champagne, smiling and spinning Penelope around in the pit lane is one of the most attractive things I have seen in the entirety of my life. He should not have this affect on me. I should not be allowing myself to feel anything other than a need to beat him and Red Bull this year. But for some reason my stupid traitorous heart has not stopped losing control whenever he is near.
It has been nearly six months. Six. Months. Get yourself together Charles.
I am finally yanked from my thoughts, rather violently, when Carlos, my new Ferrari teammate, grabs my shoulder and drags me sideways.
"Uh hello to you Carlos," I roll my eyes, slightly annoyed that he had pulled me sideways so quickly.
"You're welcome." He says dramatically, but I raise my eyebrows in confusion to his statement. "You almost got ran over my a golf cart man, I would have let you in the dream world of yours but I'm supposed to be part of this team."
I laugh awkwardly, quickly thanking him before switching the conversation to something boring, like the pouring rain outside, and walk into my drivers room.
The time between arriving and racing is always a little bit of a blur, I am too focused on the race to come but not focused enough on what I am actually supposed to be doing, which I think is listening to some last minute strategy about if the rain clears? I am not entirely sure to be honest. But soon I am starting P4 on the grid and the lights go out.
For Jules, I think, and hit the gas.
We are not even done the first lap when disaster strikes. Max goes flying sideways as Hamilton makes a move in front of me, trying to gain P1 and my heart goes with him.
I am more frantic than I should be to any reasonable spectator when I radio my engineers from P1.
"Fuck... is he alright? Is max okay? Please tell me he is okay." My voice is part strangled, the only clear evidence that I am fighting to keep the panic at bay.
"We're checking now Charles." The radio is silent for a few moments and each second has my pulse beater faster and faster. "Yup he is out of the car. Verstappen is okay but there is barrier damage so we have a red flag. Red flag Charles. Please slow and come to a stop in the pit lane."
The tightness in my chest eases the moment I get confirmation, he is alright. Max is okay.
Jumping out of my car once I have stopped, I immediately rip off my helmet, praying that everyone believes my red face is from the July heat and not the fear and terror that clawed at my soul as Max crashed. Lord, I really need to get this under control. And my stupid fucking brain could only think that I would never kiss him again if it was a really bad crash.
YOU ARE READING
End Game (Charles Leclerc x Max Verstappen)
Fanfiction"I don't deserve you schat. But... I think I'll keep you anyway." I smile, trying to organize my thoughts on what we are about to do. "Yes, I am quite alright with that, I think." "You think?" He questions, slowly guiding my head from his shoulder...
