national treasures| Charles Leclerc

twenty-nine

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

The chaos of the paddock is suffocating, the constant buzz of voices, the sound of tires screeching, and the roar of engines filling the air. 

My heart is pounding—not from the adrenaline of the race, but from something else entirely. 

Something I can't ignore, no matter how hard I try.

Camille.

I've been trying to keep it together. 

Racing is my focus, the one thing I can control in a world that often feels out of my grasp. 

But every time I see her, the weight of the world shifts. 

I can feel the pull between us, even when she's across the garage. 

Her presence is a force I can't deny, and when our eyes meet, it's like everything else fades away. 

The noise, the expectations, the constant surveillance of our every move. 

It all disappears in those brief moments when our gazes lock.

She's standing there now, talking to her engineer, and for a split second, I'm paralyzed. 

My heart races, but it's not from the track this time. 

I can't help but watch her, the way she moves, the way she holds herself with such strength despite the vulnerability I know is lurking beneath the surface.

I can't stand it any longer. 

I glance around to make sure no one is paying too much attention, then take a few steps toward her. 

She's turned just enough that she doesn't see me coming, but the second she feels me close, she looks up, and everything about her softens.

Without thinking, I take her hand and pull her toward the trailers. 

The distance between us is short, but every step feels like an eternity. 

The moment the door closes behind us, we're enveloped in a quiet that feels like a secret only we share. 

It's messy. 

There's no time for romance. 

It's quick, desperate. 

My lips find hers almost instinctively, like a magnet pulling us together.

She sighs against my mouth, her hands grabbing my shirt as if she needs the contact to ground her. 

I know the feeling.

I want to take her in my arms and never let go, but the reality of the world we live in is too pressing. 

There's no escaping the eyes that are always watching, even when we're hidden away in this tiny, dimly lit space.

I pull back just enough to look at her, my chest heaving. 

"Camille..." 

My voice is thick, caught between wanting more and knowing I need to be patient. 

We're not ready for this to be easy, not yet. 

The past is still there, hanging over us like a shadow we can't outrun.

"I know," she whispers, reading my mind. "But I... I can't stay away either."

Her confession hits me harder than I expected. 

She's still uncertain, still hesitant, but she's here.