Left Behind

Taking a Breather

-trying some first person pov, don't hesitate to tell me if you prefer this one-

Charles' pov.

The soft morning light seeped through the curtains, gently rousing me from my sleep. As I blinked away the remnants of dreams, my surroundings slowly came into focus. The unfamiliar room and the events of the previous night flooded back, and I realized I wasn't in my own bed.

Turning my head, I found Max still asleep on the convertible couch. The room was quiet, with only the subtle sounds of the city outside. I couldn't help but smile, recalling the laughter and easy camaraderie that had defined the night.

Carefully rising from the bed, I stretched, taking in the quiet beauty of the morning. The thought of Max willingly sacrificing his bed for me lingered in my mind, creating a warm feeling.

After a moment of contemplation, I decided to let Max continue sleeping on the couch. It seemed only fair since he had offered it in the first place. Moving quietly, I headed toward the bathroom, eager to freshen up.

As I returned to the room, I found Max starting to stir on the couch. He yawned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Morning," he greeted with a friendly smile.

"Good morning," I replied, mirroring his smile. "Sleep well?"

He chuckled. "Surprisingly, yes. Couch wasn't bad at all."

Glad to hear that, I thought. "Thanks again for letting me take the bed."

"No problem at all," Max said, stretching. "Ready to tackle the day?"

"Absolutely," I agreed. "Let's see what Montreal has to offer."

We both got ready for the day, the shared laughter from the night before carrying over into the morning. The unexpected turn of events had brought an added layer to our friendship, and as we stepped out into the vibrant streets of Montreal, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unique connection we were building.

______________

Max's POV.

The week in Montreal unfolded like a chapter in a novel, each day bringing new experiences and deepening the connection between Charles and me. The city offered a canvas of possibilities, and we painted it with laughter, conversations, and shared moments.

On the first day, still riding the high of the Grand Prix weekend, we explored the city's iconic landmarks. From the historic Old Montreal to the vibrant neighborhoods, we soaked in the rich culture. Charles, ever the explorer, marveled at the architecture, while I enjoyed his enthusiasm for the city I called home for a few days.

The second day led us to a local market, a bustling hub of sights and sounds. As we meandered through the stalls, Charles couldn't resist sampling some local delicacies. "You have to try this," he insisted, offering me a bite of a maple syrup-infused treat. The sweetness lingered on our taste buds as we continued our culinary adventure.

Midweek found us at a jazz festival. The rhythmic melodies of live music filled the air, and we found ourselves caught up in the infectious energy of the crowd. Charles, usually reserved, surprised me by pulling me into an impromptu dance. It was a moment suspended in time, laughter and music blending seamlessly.

Amidst our explorations, we stumbled upon a small art gallery. Charles, with his artistic eye, appreciated the brushstrokes and colors, while I found myself drawn to the narratives behind each piece. We engaged in a silent dialogue, our thoughts echoing in the quiet space, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside ceased to exist.