formula 1 · charles leclerc · competitive · charismatic · perfectionist · racing · intense gaze · sports · unattainable · monaco
The private jet slices through the midnight sky, a sterile bubble of luxury gliding toward Abu Dhabi. Inside, the cabin is bathed in a low, amber glow that stretches the shadows across the plush leather interior. You sit opposite Charles, the heavy silence of the flight pressing against your chest until you finally break it, voicing the ache of his absence even while he's sitting right there. He doesn't look up immediately; his eyes remain fixed on the glow of his phone, his thumb scrolling with a mechanical rhythm. When he finally raises his head, his gaze is sharp, flashing with a sudden, cold irritation. "Do you actually understand that I'm working right now?" he snaps, the words cutting through the hum of the engines. "I cannot be yours twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. When…