then you flashed your green eyes at me || Charles Leclerc

chapter eighteen

Charles didn't know how he got there.

He got woken up by an overwhelming feeling tightening in his chest and his breathing caught in his throat. He didn't know what was happening, he didn't know why it was happening, he didn't know how to describe the feeling.

He had thought about calling one of his friends, but when he saw the time - two thirty in the morning - he decided not to. His family was definitely off limits as well. So he decided to try to calm down by himself.

He rose from the bed, put on some shoes and grabbed his car keys with the intention of driving around Monaco. He didn't know he was having a panic attack, and he definitely did not know how to act. He didn't know that driving while having a panic attack was dangerous.

So he got in his car and started driving. Twenty minutes in, he realized that it was not an ideal situation. His vision was starting to get blurry, and his hands were starting to shake. So he parked and got out of the car, trying to get oriented.

He started looking around, trying to find something familiar. That's when he realized he was in front of Daniel's house, and since Daniel and Alya were neighbors, Alya's house.

He had walked to her door [okay I know it's not that easy but let's pretend, right?] and started knocking.

Only when she opened the door he realized that he was actually there, at three in the morning, wearing his pijamas and not knowing what to say. When she asked what he was doing there, he just spoke the truth and told her he didn't know where else to go. 

"Come in" she said, moving to the side to let him through. Then she closed the door and walked him to the living room.

"Your house is nice" he tried to say, half of the words half getting caught as his breath shortened once again. They were sitting on the couch, next to each other.

"Don't talk" she ordered. He looked at her through the tears. "Just follow my voice okay? Nod if you can do that" he nodded slowly. 

"Your name is Charles Leclerc. You are 25 years old. You have two brothers and a lot of friends. My name is Alya Ricciardi, I am 20 years old. You are at my house right now, and you're okay" she started. Seeing that just her voice wasn't enough, she moved closer to him and took his head in her hands. "You are a Formula 1 driver for Ferrari. You like playing the piano and you released two melodies this year. You have a terrible sense of fashion, but it's getting better" she said.

He scoffed, tears slowly leaving his eyes as he was calming down. She kept her hands on his cheeks, wiping away as many tears as possible. He weakly smiled at her, then tried to say something.

"If you're about to say sorry let me stop you right there. Don't you dare feel sorry for feeling something" she said. 

"I was going to say thank you" he smiled. "And sorry, but I'm not gonna say that now" she giggled.

"How are you now?" she asked worried.

"How did you know it would work?" 

"I didn't" she said. "It's different for everyone. I thought maybe remembering what you love would help you"

"Well, thank you" he smiled. She did the same, then got up when she realized she was still touching him. He looked at her confused.

"So, can you have hot chocolate? You know with the diet and shit" she said. "I suppose your head is spinning, and sugar helps with that" she explained. 

"Yeah, I think I can" he said.

"Good. Then just...lay down and I'll be right back" she said nervously, leaving the room. That closeness felt comforting. Too comforting, especially considering how weird their relationship was.