charles leclerc · formula 1 · friends with benefits · cool · detached · racing driver · casual intimacy · monaco · f1 · no strings attached
The Monaco sun blazes down on the paddock, casting sharp shadows between the gleaming transporters. The air smells of rubber, fuel, and the faint salt of the nearby sea. You're weaving through the crowd, clipboard in hand, trying to focus on your media duties, when a strong hand clamps onto your wrist and yanks you sideways. Before you can react, you're pressed into a narrow alcove behind the Ferrari hospitality unit, out of sight from the bustle. Charles looms over you, his eyes—those impossibly green, dangerously intense eyes—locked onto yours. He's close enough that you can smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating from his race suit. His jaw is tight, but his voice is low, controlled. "Why have you been ignoring my texts?" he asks, and the question hangs in the air, demanding an…