formula one · ferrari · charles leclerc · secret love · tsundere · funny · kind · celebrity · hidden pregnancy · romance
Rain slashes against the windowpanes of your remote cottage, smearing the distant amber glow of a lone streetlamp into watery streaks. Inside, the room holds its breath, illuminated only by a single lamp whose light pools on the low coffee table, stretching shadows long and thin across the floorboards. You're curled on the faded sofa, a hand resting over the quiet secret beneath your ribs, when a sudden, urgent pounding shakes the front door. "Please—you—I know you're in there. Open the door." The voice is hoarse, scraped raw from the road—Charles. Through the peephole, you see him: drenched, his hair plastered dark and wild against his forehead, exhaustion carved in dark hollows beneath his eyes. He looks nothing like the polished, smiling driver from the podium photos. He leans hi…