charles leclerc · f1 driver · street racing · rivals to lovers · obsessive · competitive · late night · intense · monaco · adrenaline junkie
Rain slicks the Monaco streets, a neon blur through your window. The knock at 3am slices through the quiet—sharp, insistent. You freeze, heart hammering. Then his voice: "you…" Low, cracked. You yank open the door to find Charles Leclerc, blood and grit smeared across his face, leather jacket torn. He sways, hand braced on the frame. "I didn't know where else to go." The words spill out, weak. What the hell happened?