𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬 [charles leclerc]

chapitre treze

IT WAS NEARING noon when Colette awakened from her deep slumber. There was a loud pounding on the door –and in her head– which made the Monegasque girl jump up from her bed. Disorientated as she was, she scrambled up from her position on the kingsized bed of her hotel room. She was still in last night's dress but noticed the trail of her heels leading back to the door. Slowly memories faded back from the early hours of the morning and she could perfectly smell his familiar scent on the fabric of her dress. After more shouting from the other side of the door, she finally stumbled over her own heels, the ones she had discarded on the floor hours prior, as she made her way to the door to end the ruthless knocking.

"Good morning, grumpy," Pierre's cheery smile blinded the dazed brunette before he passed her. "Still wearing last night's dress, hm?" The Frenchman smirked, eyeing her state as he looked around the still darkened room.

"Yeah," The brunette looked down at her battered state and indeed the dress she had worn to celebrate race results from the day before. "And you just woke me violently up."

"Who was the lucky lad?" Pierre grinned, loudly sliding the curtains open to let the natural light fall into the room. He was already wearing his swim trunks and a loose blouse, ready for a warm day in the sun.

"What?" Colette cringed and scrunched her eyes smaller to look at her friend who was making himself at home in the luxurious loveseat in the corner of the room.

"I guess you haven't looked in a mirror then."

"What are you—oh." The girl turned her head to the side to look at her reflection, immediately noticing the bruises on her neck as her hair fell on her back. Walking closer to the mirror to analyse the hickeys left on her skin as small memories from her night.

"Oh? Don't even remember him? Poor guy," Pierre chuckled, sinking further into his seat. Colette looked away from her reflection to eye her French friend annoyed. "Girl maybe then?"

"You are very noisy, Gasly," She shook her head as she was thinking about every possibility of hiding or removing the marks on her exposed neck. "And you are awfully cheery this morning after I had to carry your ass to your room." Colette walked to her en suite as she complained to her friend loudly.

"Painkillers deserve their credit in this case," He called back from the room, scrolling through his Instagram to look for any photos from the night. "Wanna go for a swim? Or at least come down to the swimming pool with make-up covering your loooove bites." Pierre teased his friend with a playful smile on his face, something she usually did after his rendez-vous with girls.

"I hate you so much." She hissed unamused, throwing her worn clothes at her suitcase as she had wrapped a towel around her body for a quick refreshing shower. And to rid of the scent that could not escape her aura.

"So, be downstairs in 15?" Pierre leaned on the handle of the door, awaiting an affirmative response to his invite he knew he would get.

"Make it 25 and have a café au lait ready for me." A now nauseous Colette stuck her head around the corner as her hangover started to kick in, her alcohol high leaving her in need of water and her bed.

"Aye, aye, captain." He saluted the girl before leaving her room with a wink and his everlasting grin.

— • —

"Our pretty sunshine has arrived." Pierre removed the sunglasses from his face as he looked up at the brunette girl nearing his sun-bed.

"Look," The French pointed to the sun-bed next to his to a distraught Monegasque suffering from his nightly decisions. "Charles had a busy night as well," The Ferrari driver quickly looked up at the mention of his name and his eyes widened for a split second as he saw the woman in front of him. Colette's own eyes followed the trail along his neck of a pattern of pinkish-purple bruises, resembling the marks on her own skin. "I thought you didn't want to go out last night?"