Her || Charles Leclerc

16. So. Many. Mistakes.

It was Wednesday, three days after the incident in Austria. The entire team had now moved to Towcester, Silverstone, UK. Everyone was preparing for the race in Silverstone the next weekend. Teams were working from their hotels or the track or, as most teams did, from their home base. Unfortunately, for Ferrari, they had to work from their hotel.

Charles entered the hotel restaurant; a few people from his team were working from this spot, and others had booked a meeting room or went to work at a cafe down the street. The last two, three actually, days were a rollercoaster to him. He was thinking a lot, he couldn't let the situation go. After Matilde pulled him out of the meeting, she told him that she didn't want to see him for a couple of days and that he had to fix Silverstone on his own. He fucked up big time. It didn't feel right to him.

"Galileo," Charles said and sat across from the assistant of his team principal.

The young Italian looked up from his computer. "Charles," he said uninterested. "What do you need?"

"Can you see Matilde's schedule for today?"

Galileo squinted his eyes. "Of course I can. I am her assistant."

"Can you schedule a meeting this afternoon? If she has time?"

"Hmm, let me see..." Galileo looked at his laptop and opened Matilde's agenda. He looked questionable, then hopeful at the driver. Charles' eyes lit up. "No."

Charles straightened his face. "Why?"

"She specifically instructed me not to plan any communication with you. Anything else, Charles?"

"I have a work-related question, Galileo. She is my team principal, I have the right to ask her any question I want," Charles replied annoyedly.

Galileo nodded impressively. "Now she is your team principal? Okay," he shrugged. "What's your work-related question? I can forward it." He showed a forced smile.

"When does she have time so I can ask it in person?"

"For you, she doesn't. Try tomorrow at the track. Good afternoon, Charles." Galileo went back to work while Charles got up and walked away. "And don't even try to ask the front desk for her room number," Galileo added, reading Charles' mind for his plan.

Charles stopped walking and turned around to look at the assistant, only sharing a glance before he walked away again. It really seemed like Matilde would do everything not to see him, and she got everyone involved to do so. He fucked up badly. Charles walked through the lobby, trying to come up with a plan. He wanted to speak to her before the weekend began, he wanted to apologise before he would go out on the track again, he wanted to see her before the weekend because he knew she could ruin his race and career within a second. He already did ruin his relationship with her, professionally and privately, but... He fucked up, and it didn't sit him right.

He crossed the lobby, ready to go back to his room, wanting to go out for a run to process his frustration. The last thing he now wanted was to see Matilde. Even though he wanted everything to make it up, to apologise, but if she wanted to give him the silent treatment, he would accept it and do the same. She wanted this, so she received it.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw her in the lobby, behind the front desk. Charles' face straightened when they made eye contact. He seemed to react to her presence, but she didn't move one muscle when she saw him. He wished to bridge the divide, but she remained unmoved. It was like he was a stranger to her. Charles forced himself to look away, maintaining his course towards the lift. He bit his lip, it didn't feel right to ignore her, this was not the right way to address this situation.