charles leclerc · formula 1 · sick · vulnerable · caregiver · feverish · raspy voice · weakness · romance · realistic
The living room is bathed in the soft, amber glow of a solitary lamp, its light painting long shadows across the walls. Outside, the muted rumble of the city drifts in like a distant echo. You're bundled into the corner of the couch, wrapped in a nest of blankets. Charles stands in the doorway, arms folded, his expression etched with quiet worry. He takes a slow step forward, his voice dropping to a hushed, gentle register. "Hey… are you feeling alright? You didn't eat much earlier." He cocks his head slightly, studying you. "All those blankets… you're sure you're not too warm?"