𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒, charles leclerc

07 ; your favourite color

The air was thick after Charles had picked me up from the Hotel. Sadly he had to concentrate on the busy traffic, so we weren't able to talk to each other. I saw his face etched in confusion, saw his lips marring in a frown. His blue eyes twitched between the cars in front of him, and the cars that were coming from the side.

They didn't look half as expensive as his black Ferrari looked, adorned with the monegasque flag following the middle of the car. I had seen the small number sixteen planted on the side of his car, in the back.

It was silent, but that wasn't new for me, considering I was deaf. Normally the situation would speak for itself, but he was utterly silent. There were curses falling from his lips here and then, but apart from that, nothing.

I tore my gaze away from him, biting my lip to prevent the smile from growing on my lips. He was effortlessly beautiful and I was already charmed by it.

The other cars flew by as we left Monaco. I couldn't help but wonder where he was taking me, where we would end up. When he drove up a hill, my brows furrowed but there was excitement nagging at me. It felt awful and foreign, oddly unfamiliar.

I'd never been so excited about a date.

When the car came to a stop, there was an insecure smile playing on his lips. His brows were furrowed, his face carrying the same insecurity his lips did.

What did they feel like?

Were they as soft as they looked like?

"We're here." My heart fluttered and I must have beamed because the insecurity on his face slowly vanished, turning into something so much more beautiful. His dimples were showing and I wondered how they would feel underneath my lips, when I kissed them.

He was too attractive for his own good.

I fought myself to tear away my gaze and looked at the landscape. It was beautiful. Enormous tress were stood in front of us, adorned with small lanterns hanging from them. Candles were neatly placed around a blanket and there was a basket of food sitting in the middle.

Charles got out of his car and I copied his movements, closing the door with what I guessed as a thud. He smiled down at me as the monegasque came to a stop in front of me. For the first time in my life, I felt completely and utterly nervous.

The man's hand was warm as he grasped mine and pulled me with him, the smile never leaving his lips.

He didn't talk.

I didn't talk.

And I couldn't fight off the feeling that he didn't ask me out because he harboured some kind of interest in me, but because I had information that he needed. It had occurred more than once. In the world of Formula One, the motto was eat, or get eaten. There was no in between.

With a sigh, I tapped on his shoulder to gain his attention.

"I'm deaf." I stated the obvious, a blank expression on my face. There was confusion written all over his face as the brunette looked down at me, his brows furrowed.

"I know." He nodded, seemingly forgetting the important part that I couldn't hear. He seemed so innocent, so very innocent.

Lipreading was exhausting and difficult, but those two words were so very easy to read as they fell from his lips.

"I can't hear."

"Yeah, I know." He nodded once again.

I furrowed my brows. Did he not understand the importance of sign language? Did he not understand that I couldn't really understand him?

"Why did you invite me, then?" I felt awful. What if my accusations were right? What if I figured him out? He was the first man to ever really gain my attention, it'd hurt me so much more than I wanted to admit.

"Why did I invite you? That's not —" He repeated, confusion now more present than before. It was like he wanted confirmation that I couldn't give him because I could only guess what he was saying.

"To mock me? To make me a spectacle?" My brows furrowed as my face scrunched up in bitterness. Mankind was cruel, but I would never really expect something like this from Charles. Not after how he was acting, not after he asked me out with endorphins soaring through his body and mind.

"Hold on, it's too fast," He said, his face scrunched up in confusion. "Hold on."

It was then that I realised. He genuinely wanted to get to know me. He was genuinely interested in me.

As Charles pulled a 'sign language' book out of his back pocket, I breathed out shakily, my features falling. It wasn't an act. It was real. His interest, the smile dancing on his lips, I had been real all along.

He never bothered to learn another language for a woman.

I felt my heart flutter with affection as he looked in the book, his eyes scanning for the meaning of what I had said.

I put my hand on it and lowered the small book under my fingers.

"I'm sorry," I threw my hands up in signs, slowly enough for him to understand. "It didn't mean anything. I was just trying to figure out why you invited me."

He nodded.

He understood.

Licking over his lips, the man fiddled for the right signs in his head. His mind was evidently working for something to say, his face etched in a frown.

"Because I want to get to know you," He explained, talking while he did so. He had to adjust to not talking with his mouth but  with his hands instead. "Not just from afar. I want to know your favourite color, I want to make you laugh and I want to be the reason for your laugh."

My eyes widened.

Learning another language for me was the most effort someone had ever put in me. I wasn't sure if I was worth it, wasn't sure if I was worth learning another language for. Charles was so pure, he was trying so hard and I thought those... unkind things about him.

It was wrong.

I couldn't have been more wrong.