Swerve | 𝑷.𝑮.

Part 30

Italics is French

"Pierre! I will kill you, get off my phone!"

"Never!"

"You fucking baguette! Oi! Give it back!"

Charles Leclerc watched with a knowing grin as Francesca jumped onto Pierre's back.

The two had gotten back to their usual ways of pissing each other off ever since they had left Australia and returned to Monaco. Everyone had already had enough of them just twenty minutes into the flight and if Francesca really believed that Arthur Leclerc was a menace - then she should see herself right now.

She managed to snatch the phone back from Pierre, still sitting on his back, she sent a smack to the back of his head which had him groaning and rubbing at the area.

Francesca jumped down with a triumphant grin.

"I hate you." Pierre grumbles.

"No you don't." Francesca shouts back. "But I prefer Charles over you."

"Hey!" Charles laughs. "Don't drag me into this!"

"You love it." Francesca laughs.

There was a big group of Formula One drivers chilling around Monaco. With the Chinese Grand Prix being cancelled before the season even began there was a whole month between races which gave the drivers some much needed time away.

Francesca approaches the Ferrari driver, tucking her phone into her pocket before she stood at his side and Charles wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"A little birdie told me your going on a date tonight." She teasingly wiggles her eyebrows.

"Its not a date." Charles shakes his head. "And can Max not keep his mouth shut?"

"Not a date my arse. Max is head over heels for you and you are for him."

"Might I remind you of the girlfriends we both have."

"Hmm, no. There's a thing called bisexual, Charles. And you scream it."

Charles rolls his eyes, looking over his shoulder to shout at Pierre to hurry up since the trio were making their way back to his apartment.

"And how do you know that?" Charles asks with a grin.

"So your admitting it?" Francesca gasps.

"He's admitting what?" Pierre questions, now catching up with the pair.

"That he's bi."

"I'm not bisexual, Fran. I'm straight."

"Mhm." Pierre and Francesca hum together, sharing a high five which Francesca then quickly swapped into the middle finger and started laughing.

"I miss the times when you were to scared to talk to her." Charles mutters.

"I wasn't scared to talk to her!" Pierre half-shouts. "Charles, I wasn't- stop smirking!"

"Children, the both of you." Francesca sighs. "Why do I even bother to put up with you?"

"Because Pierre dragged your arse out of bed this morning and refused to leave until you came with him to help him 'deal with my in denial arse' as he put it." Charles sighs.

"Something I will not be forgiving him for. I was having quite a nice dream."

"About Pierre?"