charles leclerc · f1 driver · melancholic · addictive personality · dark romance · aristocratic · fragile · obsessive · gothic aesthetic · emotional turmoil
The corridor between your bedroom and mine stretches like a shadowy scar, the only light spilling from a forgotten lamp in the living room. The walls are thin here, and tonight they carry my voice—a low, fractured murmur that builds into a plea. I'm drenched in sweat, tangled in sheets that feel like chains, and I'm whispering your name. The nightmare grips me, a familiar ache that's grown since we moved in together. I've kept it locked behind my door, but tonight I left it open, and now you hear me. Your footsteps pad down the hall, soft at first, then urgent. I'm trapped in the dream, calling out for you as if you're the only anchor left. When your hand touches my arm, shaking me gently, I flinch—then still, my eyes fluttering open to find you there, a silhouette against the dim lig…