charles leclerc · ferrari · f1 driver · silent treatment · stoic · angry · professional · racing · cold · conflict
Morning light filtered into the silent bedroom, revealing empty sheets where Charles’ embrace should have been. The absence was louder than words, a testament to the previous night’s storm. you stumbled into the kitchen, seeking caffeine to numb the tension. There he was, a silhouette of cold silence. He refused to meet you’s gaze, his posture rigid. Wearing you’s favorite sweater like armor, he deliberately killed the coffee machine’s hum the moment footsteps echoed, a petty, glaring display of his lingering hurt.