The bet | Charles Leclerc

• Twenty •

Friday

"A new bet?" I question him, unable to stop the smile that already curls up my lips. I can't deny the fact, that I'm fond of the idea.

"A new bet." He confirms with a stiff nod, his fingers still holding onto my chin, making sure I catch every glimpse of his smug grin.

"On whether you win on Sunday?" I guess, raising an eyebrow slightly up at him. God, I just want to crash my lips against his..

Leclerc smirks, noticing where my attention is laid. "If you're up for it?" He dares me on. Ugh, now I definitely I can't say no.

"It's on Leclerc" I tell him, edging closer to him, a large grin resting on my face. "I'll be sweet and let you start" I say. In reality I just have no idea what to bet on..

I honestly don't want another interview.

After those photographers earlier.. maybe I should stay in the shadow for a moment?

A chuckle leaves Leclerc's mouth. "How sweet of you" He sarcastically replies, his hand grazing against my jawline.

"I'll win, of course" He starts, the pride shining in his eyes. He takes a step closer to me, leaving almost no space between us in the narrow alleyway.

"And when I do so, you have to call me by my actual name" He whispers his words tenderly in my face, shivers running cold down my back.

I pause, frozen under his cold breath.

Fuck.

I thought he hadn't noticed that.

Thought that it didn't mean anything.

Which is a stupid thought, because it means a lot to me.

"What?" I respond, playing clueless.
But Leclerc sees right through me.

"Don't act stupid, my name is Charles not Leclerc and you're more than aware of that, Verstappen" Leclerc snaps back, his grin gone.

I swallow hardly, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Somehow I thought I'd be able to just live with this - my weird obsession with staying professional - kept unnoticed.

"I can't Leclerc" I tell him, voice thick. I can't. Physically can't. It's a promise, an oath to myself.

"Charles." Leclerc corrects me with a quiet groan, clearly frustrated. Our eyes lock, battling the tension in the warm air.

"You haven't won yet" I remind him. For now I get to keep that promise.. Besides, I'm not going to give it up any time soon.

Leclerc tugs a strand of loose hair behind my ear, electricity sparking inside me, from the simple touch. "So you agree to it?" He asks, expression tense.

I stare, study, him for a moment, debating it.

As I find new freckles, new beard stubbles and new fucking beauties on his face, I slowly lose all of my previous willpower.

For Charles Leclerc, I'd stupidly give up anything.

"Sure" I agree, making a warm, and clearly satisfied smile, appear on Leclerc's perfect face.
God, I'll never get tired of that fucking smile.

"Now," Leclerc lets his hand drop down to my neck, his large hand stroking against my nape, as his face edges closer and closer, to mine.

"What do you want?" He whispers, face mere inches away.

I inhale sharply.

What do I even want?

Him.

Ignoring the stupidity of my thoughts, I desperately try to come up with something, while also trying not to pass out from the minimal distance between us.

"I want you to go to an award ceremony with me." The words blurt out of my mouth, before I even get to think them.

Fuck.

I really shouldn't have said that.

Leclerc's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a surprised, and unbelievably cocky grin arriving on his lips. "An award ceremony?" He repeats.

You really fucked yourself over there Isa..

"Mhm" I respond unsurely, nodding slightly as nerves surround my entire body, within seconds. This is such a stupid idea.

"Why are you going to an award ceremony?" Leclerc asks complacently, somehow managing to take yet another step towards me.

This time I take a step back, panicking over how stupid the idea I just came up with is.

If my father saw, if my brother saw, fuck even if just the press saw, I'd be dead.

But the wall stops me. There isn't more space in the alleyway. No more steps to be taken. I gulp. "I've been nominated" I reply.

Leclerc's grin turns from cocky, to impressed immediately. "No shit?" He asks, eyes full of a pure joy.

A genuine smile takes over my face, a burning feeling of gratefulness sinking into my skin. "For my interview with Hamilton" I clarify, undeniably proud.

Leclerc looks weirdly proud too, hand stroking through my hair. "You're a fucking talent huh?" He says playfully, his fingers fiddling with my earring now.

I smile from ear to ear. "Says the future world champion" I whisper mischievously, my heart beating against my ribs.

Leclerc smirks. I swear, that guy loves nothing more than compliments on his racing. "Don't let your brother hear that" He says, smile beaming from ear to ear.

Stomach fluttering, I bite down on my lip, chuckling.

Leclerc leans in, his messy hair brushing against my face. "Say it again" He whispers into my ear, goosebumps rising on my arms.

This fucking guy.

And yet, I can't withstand him for a second. "Future world champion" I whisper to him amusingly, wrapping my arms slowly around his neck.

Before I even get to see the satisfaction on Leclerc's face, his lips collide with mine.

A heavenly feeling following, his soft lips clash with mine, our bodies pushed together against the wall.

His hands on my waist, mine in his hair, I lean further into him, desperate for the feelings I know he can provide me with.

Sadly, Leclerc's lips leave mine.

"You know," He begins to say, leaning in for one more peck, before he continues. "I'd go to that ceremony without the bet"

His words ring in my head enjoyably, as his lips find mine once again. I smile into the kiss, as Leclerc pushes himself further forward, deepening the kiss.

I just got myself into a lose-lose situation.

Just let Leclerc get away with a win-win bet.

And yet, I couldn't care less.

Leclerc pushes his hips against mine softly, a small gasp leaving my mouth.

I gotta get away. Someone will see us.

"I'd agree any time, any day" Leclerc whispers, pulling away softly, aware of the danger of this as well.

Fucking hell.