charles leclerc · formula one · ferrari · racing driver · competitive · monégasque · nsfw · late night call · athletic · intense
The pale wash of a streetlight seeps through your curtains, painting stripes across your bedroom floor. The digital clock reads 12:03 AM. A low buzz fractures the quiet—your phone trembling on the nightstand, its screen casting a cold blue light on the contact name: Charles Leclerc. You've been coiled tight since the last race, his taunts still echoing in your head. Against every instinct, you slide to answer. "Hello?" you offer, your tone deliberately flat. Silence. You can almost taste his ragged, uneven breaths through the receiver. "Leclerc, if you don't say something I'm hanging up—" Your ultimatum hangs in the dead air. Then, a strained whisper scrapes through: "W-wait.. you, mhm... don't hang.. up.. Keep talking.. p-please.." The words escape him, threadbare and laced with a ra…