Her || Charles Leclerc

37. Just... Her

"She is the biggest plot twist of this entire season, probably of my entire career."

Charles sat at the edge of the couch, staring out at the moonlit terrace beyond the open glass doors. The air inside the holiday home in the States felt still, heavy with unspoken thoughts. The words rolled over his lips without a warning. Andrea, who sat on the other side of the couch, stopped flipping through the sports magazine and glanced up. Joris, sprawled across an armchair, raised an eyebrow from behind his laptop.

"You're still stuck on that, huh?" Andrea asked.

Charles didn't answer immediately, his jaw tightening.

Joris lowered his laptop and raised an eyebrow. "Thought you had figured it out by now," he said casually.

"Figured what out?" Charles asked, though his tone betrayed his wariness.

"Oh, you know." Joris waved a hand vaguely. "What to do about... things."

Andrea smirked faintly, closing the magazine. "Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it? You're usually quicker at handling situations like this."

Charles turned to glare at them. "What situations?"

Andrea didn't answer, instead glancing at Joris as if passing the baton.

"Well," Joris started, leaning forward, "it's not exactly subtle. The way you've been acting. Anyone paying attention would notice."

"Notice what?" Charles snapped, his patience wearing thin.

"Mate," Andrea called him out, his gaze steady. "You are distracted, more than usual."

Charles stiffened, his frustration evident. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are," Joris said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's why you've been pacing the garage like it's a racetrack, snapping at everyone, and, oh, let's not forget that little moment during the last debrief when you couldn't even look across the table without losing your train of thought."

"What are you talking about?" Charles felt a sharp pang of unease.

Andrea shrugged. "We're just saying; it's obvious something's going on. You're not exactly a closed book, Charles."

The eyes of Charles narrowed, suspicion creeping in. "You're being vague on purpose. What exactly do you think you know?"

The two exchanged a look, and Joris's lips twitched into a grin. Charles stared at them, the pieces slowly falling into place. The deliberate vagueness, the knowing looks, the pointed yet nameless references... His heart sank as realisation dawned.

"Your boss."

"Fuck," Charles mumbled, his voice quieter but no less intense.

Andrea tilted his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Finally, he catches on."

Joris chuckled. "Took you long enough."

Charles's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. "Merde," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "You don't even know-"

"We know enough," Andrea cut him off gently. "We've been watching you torture yourself for months. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

Charles groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I didn't want anyone to know."

"You didn't tell us," Joris reminded him. "But it's not like you were hiding it, either."

The silence that followed was thick with tension. Charles finally looked up, his eyes darting between his two closest confidants. "And what do you expect me to do? It's not like I can... just do something about it."