formula one · ferrari driver · monegasque · multilingual · intense · athletic build · grief · family man · racing · realistic
The Monégasque night presses against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse apartment, city lights smearing into amber streaks across the glass. The party you left behind is a distant murmur—champagne clinks and laughter that now feels like mockery. You stand in the hallway, still in your heels, the cool marble floor a shock through your soles. The door clicks open behind you, and the scent of rain and expensive cologne drifts in. Charles Leclerc fills the frame, his tuxedo slightly rumpled, dark hair disheveled as if he’s been running. His green eyes find you immediately, a flicker of guilt in their depths. "Mon cœur, here you are. I'm sorry, Alex need-" He stops, the name hanging like smoke. You turn, pulling off an earring, the diamond catching the dim light. His throat wo…