Abrade - [Charles Leclerc] A Sequel To Corrode

Venti

           "You look so handsome," Joanne sighed as she crossed her legs at her knees and sat back in her chair, looking at her husband across the table. He looked up at her, sea blue eyes turning ocean dark. He had been insatiable today, ever since they had started the morning so intimately after everything that had gone down. It had taken her some time to make the decision and let him take her to Milan so soon after, but as Teresa reassured her that she would be fine with her brothers at home and Mick and Celia would keep an extra eye on her, she let Charles spoil her as he usually did. They were having dinner at her favorite restaurant, the dim lighted corner partially lit by the view of the Duomo, its lights casting the beautiful building in a nice glow. 

He was dressed in a white button-up, the white so crisp against his tanned skin, and if his muscles flexed, when the material pulled taut around his back, she could see the dark ink of his tattoo swirling over his back under the shirt. It had nearly been enough for her to lose control of herself. But she didn't want to be the cause they were late to dinner, in her favorite restaurant. "You look breathtaking, baby," he replied after a short silence, leaning forward to grab her hand in his and move her knuckles up to his lips, brushing them over her skin before pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. Joanne swirled the wine around in her glass, taking a sip while his eyes were still trained on her. 

"I've been thinking about what you said," Charles spoke up again. "About leaving Monaco and going somewhere, living in secret as if we're..." his voice faded out. "Dead to others?" Joanne finished, making him nod. "I can't do that, Joanne," he shook his head. "I understand your wish, and I dearly want to grant it, but Monte Carlo belongs to me, to us. This is our kingdom. What kind of royal family would we be if we left the throne out of fear?" he said, his head cocking sideways in a way she loved. "It's not fear, Charles. I just want to spend the last twenty, thirty, forty years of my life peacefully, with you, our kids, even if they move out, get married, get kids themselves. Don't you want to become grandparents without having to worry if the crew will be involved in a war?" she replied.

Charles let out a soft sigh, not because of annoyance, but because he knew she was right. "My love, you're right," he said. "It's just that... This place means so much to me, to my father, Jules," he summed up. "I know, I know I have asked so much of you already, throughout all the years we've been together. I know you're scared, but so am I. Running away won't help," Charles said. "Baby... Everything that has happened never broke us. This won't break us either." Joanne let out a soft laugh.

"That sounds really cheesy, but alright," she said, making him chuckle as well. "I think it was the moment that just scared me. A lot of bad things have happened, and I thought I had become immune over time. We've been together for so long, I almost forget I wasn't born into this life," she continued. "I remember the first time you arrived at my door at night, your nose broken, and you were bloody and bruised and God, I thought I was going to end up in jail for helping you and a couple of days ago I goddamn shot a man," she said, her voice turning into a whisper, even though no one was sitting close to them.

Charles smiled a little at the memory. "I gradually had to let you fall in love with me and my life, so I couldn't just take you to a shooting right away," he said. "I fell in love with you the day you let your son play with mine and let me make you pizza at my place," Joanne replied. Charles chest grew warm at that memory as well, remembering perfectly well how pretty she looked when she opened the door, her deep brown eyes gazing up at him, Jules hiding behind the long skirt of her dress as he didn't want to go home yet, Liam standing behind them with a chocolate smear on his cheeks and the wrapper of a piece of candy in his hands. 

He could smell what she was cooking in her kitchen from in the hallway, and as he hadn't said anything besides barking an order to hand over Jules, she had only replied that he was welcome to stay for dinner, no judgement written over his face, no fear of who he was and his reputation. Her softness, her beauty, her grace broke the walls around him down before he knew it, and he'd describe the progress they made in the first couple of months as magical. 

"And look at us now," Joanne said, leaning back when the waiter came to their tables to put down their mains. "We're so spoiled, I've never made pizza again after that day." Charles laughed at her response. "I like spoiling you. I love it even. I'd say it's my job now I've stepped down," he said, picking up a knife to cut his pizza before taking a slice into his hand. "Spending the rest of my life with you is spoiling me enough already," she smiled.

          Joanne's heels clicked against the floor as they walked slowly across the square of the Duomo. It was late at night, as they had a drink on a rooftop bar after dinner. It was surprisingly quiet, but there was someone playing the violin for some money. Charles reached into his pocket for some coins, throwing them in the case of the violin as they walked past. Joanne smiled at the gesture. He stopped her before they could walk out of hearing distance of the musician. "May I have this dance?" he asked, making her giggle as if she was eighteen again. 

Her hand slotted in his, the other resting on his bicep, while his free hand held her waist. "We haven't danced since our wedding, I think," she muttered. "Am I that unromantic?" he asked. "You're the most romantic man I could have wished for," Joanne said, looking into his crystal eyes that sparkled under the low lights of the Duomo in the back. They were the only ones dancing, some people looked up at them, but most didn't even bother to lift their eyes. 

Charles twirled her around, holding her to his chest. "Where do you want to go next?" he asked. "You loved Toronto, where we went with your birthday," he said. She chuckled. "Somewhere sunny? Brazil? Argentina?" he continued. She took his face in her hands to kiss him. "I want to be home, with you, our kids," Joanne said. "Give Teresa some more advice for her dates with Anthoine..." Charles scoffed, making her laugh again. 

"I'm still thinking she's not old enough to date a guy yet, let alone a Gasly," he grumbled. "You're so cute when you're the concerned dad, Charles," she smiled, making him smile too. They danced until her shoes hurt too much and he had to carry her back to the hotel, which was across the square anyway. He put her down when they reached the room, dropping her gently on the edge of the bed before taking her heels off himself, massaging the sore soles of her feet. "You're also the most dreamy husband I could have wished for," she added with a sigh, making him chuckle now.

He stood up straight to shake his arms out of the sleeves of his jacket, reaching for the zipper of her dress when she turned her back to him and moved her hair aside. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, unbuttoning his shirt meanwhile. He dove into the bed while she washed her make-up off in the bathroom, joining him under the duvet not much later. The curtains in front of the window were still open, and he looked at the view the room offered while she rested her head on his chest. "This was the perfect night," she spoke up. "I'm happy that I made you happy, my love," he replied, his hand brushing over her arm. 

"You're always the reason I'm happy, Charles."

"You're mine too, baby. Always."

F I N I S

A/N: Aweeeee guys :((( Can you believe this is the end? I wanted to make this story short but sweet and exciting and nerve wracking and all the good stuff from the start. After writing Corrode, I couldn't quite let go off Joanne and Charles yet, but I really need to do so now. I will write an epilogue, hopefully in the upcoming days, to really wrap up their story. Thanks for everything <3