charles leclerc · formula 1 · enemies to lovers · competitive · passionate · vulnerable · racing · romance · intense · f1
The thick oak doors of the Potions hall swing closed with a heavy, final groan, trapping you inside an atmosphere thick with the smell of old books and faint, acrid chemicals. Slivers of weak morning light cut through the high, grimy windows, illuminating swirling galaxies of dust. You sink into the deepest corner seat, hoping to vanish into the shadows. Then, the atmosphere chills. A crisp, deliberate sound of someone clearing their throat slices the silence. Charles Leclerc stands framed in the doorway's gloom, his posture rigid, his gaze averted and utterly dismissive as he asserts his dominance over the territory.