Playlist -
1- Rebel Yell - Billy Idol
2- Rebel Rebel - David Bowie
3- Lust for Life - Iggy Pop
*Two weeks later*
It's been nearly two weeks since the Monaco Grand Prix and almost one week since the Spanish Grand Prix. I attended the race with everybody, exactly as it went for Monaco.
Charles finished in third position alongside George Russell in second and Max Verstappen in first. Lewis positioned fourth and Carlos seventh.
The podium ceremony was one never to be forgotten. After Max and Charles had shared a rather shameless after party at Danny's in Monaco, the champagne attacks became ruthless - poor George looked mortified on the podium, hidden in the corner for most of the time.
The media couldn't have snapped their photos at a better second - capturing the pure horror on George's face, zoomed in. As peak entertainment during our stay, Lewis went as far as printing out hundreds of variations of George's horrified face and plastering them down the halls in our Spanish hotel; this didn't go down well with neither Toto nor the housekeepers.
***
'Come here', I hear a voice mutter from behind me.
'Charles', I sigh, 'I'm so busy'.
Footsteps close in behind me, 'With what? Hanging fairy lights all day long?'
Hands crawl their way up the back of my thighs and along the curves of my hips as I reach higher to hang up string lights.
'I'd be careful on that chair, Marle', Charles whines, planting kisses on my ass, 'You could fall'.
'I won't', I fix the lights on the hooks I'd nailed in earlier, 'Tada!'
Charles eases me down from the chair I'd borrowed for leverage from our desk. Our bedroom is finally complete: a comfortable double bed, memory foam mattress with eggshell colored bedding, a desk big enough for the two of us to work alongside each other, a shared wardrobe and finally two generously sized drawers for more clothes - most of the space is taken up by my clothes.
Mila has her own walk in closet in the house and I've already taken up a fair amount of space in there. We also painted the room red at Charles' request- as if driving for Ferrari wasn't enough red.
'The room looks amazing, Marley', Charles bends to kiss the top of my head, 'I love the plants in here'.
'They're cacti, silly', I giggle at his mistake.
'Oh', Charles whispers, 'Anyway, where was I?'
Charles spins me gently to face him and kisses me passionately - much different to the roughness we'd been experimenting with recently.
'What was that for?' I pull away, brushing away the hair from my face.
'I love you', Charles smiles, 'That is all'.
'There was more to that than an I love you, Charles'.
'Okay, I'm just a little worried about Canada. You don't have to come if you don't want to'.
I inch away from him a little further, 'Why? Do you have a bad feeling or something?'
'No', Charles seems to blush, although his tone seems to be telling the truth, 'I just didn't do so good in Spain and I'm worried I'm losing my streak. I know you've traveled more in the past few months than you ever have and I can understand if you want to stay home'.
'I am getting a little busy', I confess, 'I have a 'meeting' with Toto downstairs soon about getting me on his payroll as his journalist. I need to research a fair bit before I make my first appearance at a race. Toto thinks Silverstone could be my first appearance', I explain, falling away into a daydream as I think about my upcoming responsibilities.
YOU ARE READING
How I Met Charles Leclerc
FanfictionThis is a story of a girl called Marley, who's father is the best friend of Toto Wolff. She happens to stumble into Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc at a race after party. He takes an instant interest in her, and she feels the same. Who wouldn't? Bu...
