~ ventiquattro ~

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🌸 note 🌸

Happy Sunday to my beloved readers!

No race this week means no pain for me. No, I'm crying in the corner. LOL. You can join me.

CRYING SESSION AT MY HOUSE TONIGHT AT 8. PULL UP.

This chapter is not the happiest one. I apologise in advance for causing pain. I love you all.

I want to thank you all for your support. Special thanks belong to my beloved friend water4lily who supports me no matter what, throws ideas at me and watched Fate: The Winx Saga without me. (Thanks a lot 🙃) I still love her deeply, but this disappointed me greatly, so yeah.

Make someone smile every day, but never forget you're someone too :)

Loads of love, Anna <3

🌸

Great Britain, July 2019

"Hey. How is my girl doing?" That was what Pia heard when she picked up a call from Charles.

"Hey. Your girl is happy because her lover just called her," the Italian giggled into the phone. She was once again a teenager in love. He made it so hard not to love him. "How are you doing?"

"Fine. Now, it's how it should be," he mumbled. He sounded happy. "What are you doing?" Another question left his lips when he heard how Pia was moving around.

"I'm just cooking dinner," Pia said with a smile.

It was Saturday afternoon - one free weekend before the German Grand Prix. Pia was staying over at Lando's, and Charles was back in Monaco with Charlotte. They managed to call each other twice during the week. It was tricky because they needed to be out of the reach of their partners. Neither of them felt really comfortable in this situation. They promised they would solve this situation by the summer break, but one week had already passed, and nothing happened. Breaking up with people wasn't as easy as it seemed. Maybe they would solve it by the end of the summer break.

"And what are you cooking," he asked her. Pia could hear that he was genuinely interested. It wasn't like Lando wasn't interested in what she was doing, but it just wasn't the same. The Italian sometimes felt like he was asking her just because he didn't know what else to say, but Charles just asked because he cared.

"I'm Italian, so try to guess," Pia giggled. She loved the stereotypes about Italians.

"Some pasta?" Pia was sure he was smiling. She could hear it in his voice. She was sure it was that lazy smile - one that was so effortlessly beautiful.

"Correct, mister Leclerc." It almost sounded like from some TV competition. Perhaps from something like 'Who wants to be a millionaire?'

"What did I win?" he asked teasingly. He was a thousand kilometres away, yet Pia could see his smug smile.

"What would you want?" she asked him all flirty.

"You in my arms," he said without hesitation. Pia couldn't help but wonder if he even thought about it or if he just said the first thing that came to his mind. She wanted to hope that it was the second option. She wanted to believe that she was on his mind all the time.

"That's my wish too," Pia admitted shyly. It was like once she was back close to him, she couldn't be far away from him. But as always, it wasn't that easy.

"Perhaps by Germany, we can be together without our partners," he said. He made it sound so effortless. Almost like they were talking about returning a toy to the toyshop. He made it sound like nothing that would include people's feelings and getting hurt.

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