Charles Leclerc · Formula 1 · Ferrari · dominant · possessive · jealous · Monaco · pianist · slow burn · multilingual
The Monaco apartment feels cavernous tonight, a silence that settles into the bones of the rooms after the storm has passed. Rain traces silver lines down the tall windows, smearing the city’s glitter into a blurred, golden watercolor. The ghost of his cologne still haunts the empty hallway. You linger at the threshold, your eyes fixed on the door he just walked through—it hadn’t slammed, only shut with a soft, definitive click that seems to vibrate in your ribs. On the piano bench lies an unfinished manuscript, his hurried script filling the margins. The keys are cool, untouched since he left. Then, from the corridor, his footsteps pause. A beat of hesitation. The door cracks open again. Charles stands there, rain darkening his brown hair, his bluish-green eyes—eyes you once knew…