On and Off the Track

S I X T Y N I N E.

Back at the hotel, I felt a wave of hunger wash over me as I sat down, the excitement of the day finally catching up. While Charles and Andrea chatted nearby, laughing and exchanging stories about the day's qualifying, I picked up the room service menu.
"I'm ordering food, anything you want?" I asked, glancing over at Charles and Andrea. Charles looked up, still grinning from something Andrea had said.
"Get the usual, whatever you're having. I trust your choices." I smirked, knowing how much Charles loved the pasta dishes at this hotel. After placing the order, I leaned back in my seat, enjoying the easy friendship between Charles and Andrea. Their close bond was obvious in the way they communicated, finishing each other's sentences and laughing at inside jokes that seemed exclusive to them. Andrea, gestured dramatically as he spoke.
"You should've seen your face when they told you Carlos was right behind you in P2!" He mimicked Charles's expression, eyes wide in mock surprise. Charles laughed, shaking his head.
"I wasn't worried! I knew I had it," he said, though his grin betrayed him. "Okay, maybe just a little bit."
"You? Worried? Never!" Andrea teased. I couldn't help but smile as I watched them. Their dynamic was refreshing, supportive yet light-hearted.

Soon, there was a knock on the door, and room service arrived. The delicious aroma of pasta, grilled vegetables, and garlic bread filled the air as the server brought in the dishes. I noticed Charles's eyes light up when he saw the food.
"This looks incredible," he said, standing up to help set the table. I chuckled.
"See? I always know what you need."
"And that's why you're the best," Charles replied with a wink. We all sat down, the conversation flowing easily between bites of food. Andrea kept the mood light, telling a hilarious story about their last training camp, and Charles, in turn, shared an anecdote about their early days working together. Between the laughter, I felt a sense of warmth and contentment. The way Charles glanced at me across the table, his smile full of affection, made my heart flutter. As we continued eating, Andrea turned to me.
"So, what's next for you? Any shoots coming up we should know about?" I wiped my mouth with a napkin and nodded.
"I've got a Vogue spread coming up next month, actually. It's for their September issue." Charles beamed.
"That's huge! Well done."
'Thank you,' I said, noticing my cheek become more red by the second. As the evening wore on, the conversation shifted to light-hearted topics, and the bond between us grew stronger with every shared laugh. The dynamic between Charles, Andrea, and me felt effortless.

After Andrea left, the room grew quieter, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound as Charles and I sat on the edge of the bed, the remnants of our meal scattered across the table. Charles leaned back against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, a thoughtful expression overtaking his usual easy smile. Sensing a shift in his mood, I slid closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder.
"You okay?" I asked softly. He nodded, but his gaze remained distant.
"Yeah... it's just... Monza." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This place, the tifosi, the history, it's overwhelming sometimes. I've been dreaming about winning here since I was a kid." I sat up slightly, looking at him. His usual confidence was still there, but there was a depth to his words that revealed just how much it all meant to him. I could see the weight of expectation and personal desire etched on his face. "I can't even describe it," Charles continued, his voice quieter now. "To race here, in front of these fans, the tifosi, they're something else. It's not like any other track. You feel their passion, their belief in you, and it's... it's like you owe them everything. They pour their hearts into this, and you want to give it back to them. You want to give them that win." I reached for his hand, intertwining our fingers.
"You've done so much already, Charles. They love you." He shook his head, his eyes finding mine.
"But it's not enough. Not yet. Not until I win here. This track, this race. It's everything. To win at Monza for Ferrari, in front of these fans... it's what I've been working toward my entire career." He paused, his expression softening as he glanced down at our hands. "And having you here... it makes it even more important." My heart swelled at his words, feeling the depth of his vulnerability in that moment.
"Charles, you don't have to prove anything to me. Or to them. You've already given them so much of yourself." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"But I want to. I want to give them the win. And I want you to be here when I do."
"I'm not going anywhere," I reassured him, squeezing his hand. Charles turned to me fully, his eyes now filled with emotion.
"Racing is my life, but you, you're the constant in all of it. The one thing that makes everything else make sense." A lump formed in my throat as I listened, my eyes starting to glisten. This wasn't just about racing or winning anymore. It was about us.
"You'll do it, Charles," I whispered. "I know you will. And no matter what happens tomorrow, you've already won in my eyes." Charles's gaze softened, and for a moment, he just stared at me, as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. Then, without saying another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that was both tender and full of the unspoken weight of everything he was feeling. When we finally pulled apart, Charles rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.
"I'm so lucky to have you, Bronte." I smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. For a while, we just sat there in silence, holding each other, letting the weight of the night settle around us. There were no more words needed, just the quiet understanding that we were in this together, no matter what the next day would bring.