Swerve | 𝑷.𝑮.

Part 32

Italics is French

Francesca Lewis leant her bodyweight against the half open door to her apartment. A smile tugging uncontrollably at the corners of her lips as she stopped Pierre Gasly from entering.

"You are the bane of my existence sometimes, Celine." Pierre sighs.

"Am I really?" She smirks. "Because I think that I'm an angel sent from heaven."

"You are most defintely not." Pierre shakes his head.

"As much as I'm loving the Franierre action I'm witnessing right now, please keep it behind locked doors." Heidi's voices echoes.

"I thought you were going to Lando's." Francesca says, turning to look at the blonde.

"I am. I need Oscar to remind me what its like to be an Aussie." She laughs.

Francesca shakes her head, pulling the door all the way open allowing for one person to leave and the other to enter. Pierre walked straight into the familiar apartment, kicking his shoes off so that Francesca didn't shout at him and disappearing further inside, leaving the two girls in the doorway to send each other a shared look.

"Protection." Francesca smirks, watching Heidi's cheeks turn red.

"I could say the same for you!" Heidi gasps, smacking her on the arm.

"Touché, touché." Francesca laughs, arms up in mock defence. "I like his hoodie by the way."

"Shut the fuck up." Heidi mutters, covering her face with her hands. "You sound like Jesse!"

"Okay, okay. Go get your man! Off with you!"

After quickly hugging each other, Heidi jogged off down the hallway and Francesca closed the door, making sure to lock it behind her.

She entered the living room to find Pierre making himself at home on the sofa, Francesca shook her head and tried not to scream when he sent her a wide lipped grin and patted the space next to him for her to sit down. She did not miss the way that his eyes quickly flicked down her body - which was only covered in a pair of socks, running shorts and yet another hoodie she'd stolen from Charles at some point over the last few years.

"Should I be jealous of the fact your wearing my brothers hoodie right now?" He asks.

"Do you want me to want you to be jealous?" Francesca smirks.

"I'll take that as a yes." The Frenchman sighs. "You could be wearing mine right now."

"You stole them all back from me. Charles is the only option."

"But really the man who douses everything he owns in cologne? Its all I can smell."

"Give me a hoodie and I'll wear it then."

Pierre gave her a look, which had Francesca smirking before she placed her legs over his lap and leant back into the sofa.

"That's what I thought." She laughs.

"I know what your trying to do."

"Oh really?"

"Trying to get me to give you a hoodie that I'll never get back." Pierre laughs. "Only Charles is stupid enough to fall from it."

"Well he is stupid for a reason." She shrugs.

Pierre lets out a deep chuckle which has Francesca's stomach doing somersaults. She struggles to keep a blush from growing on her cheeks and Pierre is quick to notice.