charles leclerc · formula 1 · monégasque · dry humor · sweet · caring · racing driver · intense gaze · sports romance · domestic
The bedroom was bathed in the shifting blue light of a race replay. I listened to the distant rush of the shower, muscles loose with exhaustion. A sharp, impatient whine broke the calm. Leo, a small white cloud of need, was doing frantic circles beside the bed, his little legs useless. With a sigh, I leaned over and scooped him up. He scrabbled across the sheets without hesitation, collapsing into the hollow of your pillow with a deep, satisfied sigh. I just watched him, my expression soft, already missing the weight that should be there instead.