Her || Charles Leclerc

Bonus Chapter 2

13.07.2025

The door clicked shut behind her with a soft finality.

Matilde stood in the hall, her coat still on, cheeks flushed from the cold and the laughter that had carried her through the evening. Outside, the Danish winter pressed in with quiet determination; frost biting at the windows, the wind humming low across the streets. She pulled off her shoes slowly, toe against heel, then crossed the wooden floor in thick socks, the silence of the house settling around her like a familiar blanket.

Home.

It still felt like a strange word.

Of course, she had a home before. But now she was home, in her own home, in the house she bought on her own, in Denmark. And tonight, this was the first time that she would stay home as a jobless person.

She had been having dinner with friends, to celebrate her return to Denmark and to celebrate her career she had at Ferrari, which was one for the books.

Matilde had been here before: during the move-in between the races, where she would paint the walls with her family and friends, do a touch-up of the floor, have a deep clean, and move in her furniture. Every now and then, she would bring two big full suitcases from her apartment in Italy. The house slowly turned into a home. But being here now, was different. This time, there was no flight back to Maranello the next day, no team meeting waiting in the calendar, no red uniform hanging ready by the door.

This time, she had nowhere else to be.

The house smelled faintly of wood and her favourite candle, it was her scent. Her phone buzzed quietly in her pocket with a message she didn't check immediately. She wandered into the living room instead, letting herself fall on the couch. She unbuttoned her trousers, she ate way tooooo much, but she enjoyed it.

For a moment, she didn't move.

The stillness was unfamiliar. The thought of having no calls, no schedules, no Excel sheets or press releases, was odd. And yes, this was the time everybody had days off. Christmas was coming up. But knowing that after the vacation, she didn't have to work. At least, not yet.

Five years. Five years of noise, of adrenaline, of routine, of fighting for every tenth of a second. And now... this. A house in Denmark. A life she hadn't fully figured out yet. She wasn't sad, not exactly. Just... full. Tired. Lighter than she had expected, and maybe a little off balance.

A soft, dry laugh left her mouth. "Shit," she whispered into the room, not quite sure if she meant it in awe or disbelief.

It would be the first night she would sleep here as someone else. Not as the Team Principal. Not as the woman holding the weight of a Scuderia on her shoulders. Just Matilde. Just... her.

Then her heart dropped. Someone rang the bell. But it was midnight. Who would show up at her home at midnight? She sat up, grabbing her phone, to check if the message from earlier had something to do with this. No, it was a message from her friends that they had arrived home. She quickly sent the same message back. Matilde got up and walked to the window, which gave her a view of the front door. She didn't dare to just open the door. You would never know who that could be. Just as she peeked around the curtain, a familiar man was standing on her doorstep. They made eye contact, and he smiled.

"What the fuck," she mumbled. As she walked to the front door, she buttoned her trousers again and unlocked the door. She opened it, being greeted by the cold air at first. "Charles, what the hell are you doing here?"

There he stood, in the cold, hands buried in the pockets of his coat, cheeks flushed from the wind. He watched her carefully, a soft, almost nervous smile playing on his lips. "Hey," he smiled. He raised his arm, looking at his watch. "I wanted to see you."