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( real life )
SPANISH GRAND PRIX barcelona, spain
HE'S MORE ATTRACTIVE in person than pictures, is her first thought.
And then she squashes it down to ash because no. She is not going to allow herself to think of Carlos's teammate in any other way than just Carlos's teammate. No matter how pretty his face is—fuck, are those dimples?
His mouth curves upward as he smiles at her, and yes, those are indeed dimples. His eyes are warm as he stares at her, an eerie familiarity in them that Valerie finds disconcerting. Why is he looking at her like that? Why does it seem as if he thinks they're old friends who haven't seen each other in years?
"Nice to see you in Ferrari red," he says, gesturing to her red top and then raising his hand to run it through his hair as if he doesn't know where else to place it.
She shrugs. "Yes, well, Carlos would kill me if I supported another team."
"I would," Carlos agrees.
Charles lets out a small chuckle, still staring at Valerie with those sea green eyes.
