Gasoline - [Charles Leclerc]

2.6

Charles sighed as he had his Phone pushed to his ear. He was calling his mother about the race in Barcelona. He had finished fifth, again. Fifth in qualifying, fifth in the race. Still ten points, but he didn't care about those. He told her about how his frustration was growing, wishing the stragety was thought out a bit better and that their car could improve a bit more. It didn't change much after the race in Baku and he could cleary sense that. Sebastian had missed out of the podium as well, so the team spirit was a bit down during the post race debrief with the engineers. Mattia had patted him on his shoulder and said he was driving great, so he didn't need to start doubting himself. But that was the point, he started to hesitate about his own skills and talent. Charles wasn't satisfied with the way he delivered. He wanted to win, like every F1 driver did. He almost had the car for it, he was better than his own car, but he couldn't seem to push it that far. His mother spoke encouraging words and she was so proud of him. It did him good to hear her voice for a bit.

Charles also said that he wanted her to meet Edrice at his home race. He poured his heart out about his girlfriend, about what had happened, but how Edrice had managed to come back to him and how they solved it together. Pascale Leclerc couldn't wait to meet the woman who made her son's heart race even more than the red bolide could. She said she wasn't crying, but Charles could hear that she was a bit emotional. "Your father would be so proud of who you've become, always remember that". Charles swallowed hard and nodded, even though she couldn't see it. He looked up as he felt Edrice her hands roaming over his shoulders, a kiss pressed to his cheek from behind. He spoke to his mother in French, so she didn't understand a lot from it, but she got that they were saying they loved each other and would see each other soon. Charles ended the call and placed his phone next to him on the bed. He rubbed his temples with his fingers, glad he was at least back in Monte Carlo with Edrice. She said she'd fly back home, but he had pulled her closed and wanted her to stay.

By now she probably spent more time in Monaco than in London, but Charles didn't say anything about her moving in with him, knowing she'd hate those kind of labels. "It's nice outside". Edrice muttered, her fingers moving into his hair and back to his shoulders, squeezing them gently. Charles relaxed a bit under her touch and turned towards her. His eyes widened as he saw her in her swimwear, seated on the bed on her knees. Edrice cupped his cheeks to press a kiss to his lips, standing up afterwards and taking the elastic hair tie out of her hair, letting the onyx strands fall down her shoulders. "Are you coming?". She asked over her shoulder and didn't wait for him while walking outside to his pool. A small smile curled his lips and Charles stood up, reaching for the drawers of his closet to pick one of his swimming trunks. He moved his denim shorts down his legs and swung his shirt over his head. The sun was setting above Monaco, they had just gone out for dinner and returned a little before eight. Edrice could sense he was stressed, even though he said he wasn't.

Charles tried to not think about it too much, knowing he couldn't change anything about it. Edrice noticed that he was training even harder since Baku, not that she was complaining. It was fascinating how quickly his body had responded to it. His biceps seemed more firm, his abdomen tighter and his shoulders even more broad. But she didn't want him to do too much, to get himself overworked. Charles saw her walking into the water, using the stairs till she was in completely. He smiled and followed her example, getting into the water too. It felt cool and refreshing against his skin, washing off the sweat of the evening temperatures. It had been almost thirty degrees today and that while it was mid-May. Charles didn't mind, he loved warm temperatures. Edrice was used to it too, however the warmth in Egypt was way more dry, which he joked about often as the Sahara dessert was obviously very dry. He walked through the water to come up to her, watching how she briefly dipped her head under the water too and wetted her black hair.