Curve of fate - Charles Leclerc X Male Reader

Chapter 14

Emerging from the airport the wet and windy weather of England is a feeling I haven't missed all that much. My hair quickly becomes sodden with rain water whilst we wait for a taxi,exposed to the elements. 

“You know you don't have to worry she will be absolutely fine” Charles says breaking the conversational silence, the sound of rain pelting against the thin metal of the surrounding cars is an all too prevalent sound that fills my ears.

“She probably will be but I can't help but worry” I retort my hands shaking by my side. Just as we start to become slightly drenched our taxi turns up and the driver opens the door for me and Charles.

Sitting in the car as we pass monuments, people, cars I stare blankly into the abyss like they do in movies. Only my feelings aren't fake. I'm sick with worry and nerves that are sending me insane.

Time seems to just slow down more and more every time I play the scenario over and over in my head to the point of insanity. I don't track the journey much and don't fully escape my fear induced trance until I see the sign of the hospital come into view.

As we step out of the car Charles thanks and pays the driver and as he drives off I'm left standing facing the entrance to the hospital, paralysed by nerves.

“Come, I will be there with you every step of the way” Charles says, grabbing my hand, I turn my head to face him “thanks”. I walk into the hospital and the smell of sanitising fluid and the smell of latex fills makes my stomach drop and causes a wave of nausea to swap over me.

I approach the reception desk and begin to speak my voice promulgated by fear and nerves, “I'm here to see my mother” I say to her, she turns away from her colleague who she was previously engaged in conversation with “What's your name?”, “M/N L/N” she types on her computer for what feels like ages but in reality it was probably only a few seconds.

“Sure she's in the room down the hall and on the left” she says looking up from the screen.

I thank her and begin to navigate down the corridor. I pass rooms with sick people, on ventilators, unable to breathe, think, act or do anything for themselves and I picture my own mother in that state and as much as I don't want to it's an image that vividly infiltrates my mind at every waking opportunity.

We finally arrive at the door that conceals my mother from the tumultuous scene of the emergency room. I place my hand on the cold metal handle and ponder momentarily before opening the door ajar.

I take a step in the room which is much warmer than the outside corridor, I look at my mother who is laying on the bed.

I approach the foot end of her bed and look at her, she for some reason looks peaceful and calm. I notice a chair next to bed and take a seat next to her.

As I sit down she starts to move a little. She opens her eyes and turns her head to mine and Charles's direction. Her voice is groggy and barely coherent, “what are you doing here?”I let out a light laugh “here to see you obviously” I reply.

“What about your race?” she inquires, “you don't have to worry about that” I answer back.

Strangely enough as we spend time with my mother as she lies in a hospital bed I don't think I have ever felt that close and connected with my mother.

As visiting hours come to an end she hands me her house keys for me and Charles to stay there.

Seeing her up and talking puts me at ease and makes me realise how irrational I was to be worried about her, because she is a strong woman who would never let anything put her down.