AGAIN || MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE /Charles Leclerc/

Chapter 19

You ask for it, you get it!!

We reached 30K!!! I'm beyond grateful to everyone who's reading and supporting this story!

This is gonna be shorter than I had planned to be. It's actually just half of a chapter, but since I don't know if I'll be able to write and update before the 8th of June (when school ends) i though I might give you a little update now!!!

Enjoy!

Charles

Now

My breath catches in my throat. Her voice, soft and full of regret, floats through the air and my heart races in my chest. I didn't mean to overhear but when I realized she was talking about our relationship I couldn't help.

I'm freezed in my spot, hidden against the door leading outside, too afraid she's gonna see me and run away as she did before. I don't know why she's telling Ollie all these things, or even what they were talking about.

What I know is that I'm fighting the urge to run to her and hug her, telling her it's okay and I'm not mad at her. Telling her that what Pierre said was awful but I forgive her, because she is here now. The weight of those words crashes over me like a wave, overwhelming.

I was going to ask her to join us in the water, but Oliver just did and she said no. I was looking forward to spending some time with her today, but sweet heavens seem to be against me.

The yacht today was my idea. I know how much she loves yach-time and swimming, but I wasn't sure she would have been comfortable just with me on a boat, so I begged Max to organize.

When she arrived with Liam this morning I was really annoyed, she told me there was nothing between them but that's not what it looked like.

I just stand here looking at her, amazed by her beauty. She's different from two years ago, but the beauty is still all there and it's unspeakable.

Right now, however, she looks off. I watch her for some minutes and I realize she's slowly drifting asleep, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier as she looks at the sea in front of her.

With her head already resting on the big cushions of the sofa she closes her eyes, her breathing steadies, becoming a rhythmic rise and fall that is almost hypnotic.

I could stand here all day.

I wait some more minutes, just to be sure she really is sleeping, then I carefully walk up to her, without making any noise. Now that I'm right in front of her I can confirm she is not doing well at all today.

Her cheeks are wet from some tears, her body shivers, even if the breeze out here is rather warm.

I take a seat beside her, my heart swelling with preoccupation. I feel an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her, to be sure she's real, that she's here.

"What happened to you, fleur? I really wish I could take all your pain away."

I gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, my fingers lingering for a moment on her soft skin.

She shifts under my touch, rolling on her side. I back off, scared she'll wake up, but she doesn't. Instead she closes her hand in a fist, wrapping in her fingers the ham of my t-shirt. An accidental gestour that leaves me stunned.
What should I do now?

But then, a shadow crosses her face, and her peaceful expression shifts into one of distress. Her brows furrow, and she begins to murmur incoherently, her breathing becoming rapid and uneven.