national treasures| Charles Leclerc

twenty

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Watching Camille race today was like watching a different person, yet somehow, the same.

I could see the growth in her—her drive, her precision on the track—everything I remembered from our karting days but sharper, more refined.

It hit me, watching her fly past the competition, how far she's come.

There's a quiet strength in her now, something that was always there but hidden behind the weight of the world.

I can't help but feel proud.

She's carving her own path, one that's nothing like the path we once shared, but it's her own.

I know it must've been hard to step into this world, especially with everything we've been through, and yet here she is, holding her ground.

After the race, I found myself walking over to congratulate her, but when I saw her face, it was a reminder of everything that was still unsaid between us.

It's like the air shifted.

I said the words out loud—"Great job, Camille," but it felt hollow compared to what I really wanted to say.

She gave me that polite smile, the one that says 'thank you but don't get too close.'

It stung more than I wanted to admit.

I felt this sudden ache in my chest, this longing for the easy connection we once had.

We were teammates then, not just on the track but in life too.

There was a time when everything about us was simple, before I screwed it up, before I walked away without looking back.

I can't help but feel the weight of it now.

The way I left, the way I treated her like nothing, like she didn't matter.

Even though time has passed and things have changed, the guilt doesn't just fade.

I still see her as the girl who shared dreams with me, and I still hear the pain in her voice from the last time we spoke.

But I don't know how to fix it.

The fear of pushing too hard, of making things worse, holds me back every time I get close.

I don't know if I can make things right, not after all the years of silence and the hurt I caused.

And yet... I can't seem to stop wanting to try.

But how do you fix something so broken, especially when the other person isn't sure they want it fixed?

So instead, I just stand there, watching her, hoping that one day I can be the person who deserves a second chance—if she's even willing to give me one.

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There's a strange kind of pride that settles in me after a good race, a feeling of accomplishment, but also a quiet sense of unease.

I'd done well—better than expected—but the victory didn't taste as sweet as it used to.

Not when I can feel Charles' eyes on me from across the paddock, his words of praise lingering in my mind.

"Great job, Camille," he'd said with that soft smile, the one that used to mean everything to me. His voice was warm, and I couldn't help but notice how much it still affects me, despite everything that's happened.

The old ache is still there, buried beneath the surface.

I should be proud of the race, proud of the progress I've made, but instead, my thoughts keep drifting back to Charles.

To his gaze, to the tension between us, to the way I can feel something pulling at me when he's near.

It's unsettling, this pull, like a current I can't resist, no matter how hard I try.

I try to push it away.

I've built myself back up after everything we went through, after everything he put me through.

I've spent so long keeping my walls up, staying guarded, because I couldn't afford to let anyone in.

Certainly not him, especially not him.

But every time we interact, every time we share one of those fleeting moments, it's like I'm right back where I started.

And that terrifies me.

The way he looks at me, like he sees me, like he wants to get me again, it makes me feel exposed, raw, in a way I haven't allowed myself to feel in years.

I feel vulnerable like I'm standing on the edge of something I'm not sure I can handle.

I don't know if I can open myself up to him again.

I don't know if I can risk getting hurt again.

But the more we talk, the more I start to question myself.

Can I let myself fall for him again, despite everything?

Can I trust him to stay?

I tell myself I'm not ready, that I've worked too hard to get where I am to let anything derail me.

But when he smiles at me, when he looks at me with that familiar tenderness, I can't help but feel my resolve start to crumble.

I start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, I can let myself feel something for him again.

But I can't shake the fear, the fear that I'll end up back where I started: hurt, lost, and questioning everything.

And yet... I find myself wanting him again, in a way that terrifies me.

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