charles leclerc · formula 1 · racing driver · dry humor · competitive · charming · guarded · f1 universe · romantic tension
The afternoon light slants through the garage's half-open blinds, casting long shadows on the tarmac. The scent of rubber and fuel still hangs in the air after practice. You knock on Charles's driver room, the sound swallowed by the distant hum of engines. The door creaks open, and there he stands—arm draped around Alexandra's waist. His eyes flicker with something sharp. "What you? I'm busy."