𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂

𝐈𝐕

Antoinette

I entered mine and Charles's apartment.

The kitchen light was on, so I went there. At the table, I found Charles, leaning his head on his hands and staring blankly into the distance. When he realized my presence, he turned his gaze towards me. I sat on the chair opposite him. Without a word, we sat there like this until he cleared his throat, which completely infuriated me to the core.

"If you suddenly ran out of words, I can go lie down. I'm tired from the whole day, and I don't need to be bothered by your whims." I got up and started to leave. As I was exiting the room, I felt him grab my hand. "Wait, please."

I turned around and saw Charles looking distraught. "So quickly, tell me, what's so important that I must know about it at half past midnight?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Tomorrow, I want you to come with me. There will be practice, and I think it would be appropriate to show you there and introduce you to everyone," he whispered.

"Okay..."

Before I could close the bedroom door, he added, "I'll be sleeping in the living room tonight, just so you know."

Then I slammed the door in his face. I threw myself onto the bed and immediately fell asleep.

I was awakened by screams from the living room.

Without even knowing why, I leaped out of bed and ran to Charles. He was sitting on the couch, trembling all over, fear evident in his eyes.

"Hey, hey... I'm here, everything is fine, it was just a bad dream," I comforted him.

He hugged me tightly and cried on my chest. "I saw him die again, I had the accident in front of my eyes once more," he said.

I didn't ask him anything; I didn't want to add fuel to the fire. I just sat there and stroked his sweaty back while he sniffled on my chest.

I don't know how long we spent there. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes... but Charles just couldn't calm down.

I've never pitied anyone in my life as much as him. Inside, he's just a little traumatized child, I thought to myself. I didn't even know what was going through my head at that moment. Slowly, I lay down behind him, still stroking him - he didn't object.

I lay there for about an hour until his heartbeat returned to normal. I didn't care whether I would get any sleep that night.

I stayed with him until morning, watching him sleep peacefully. I was afraid that the situation would repeat itself, but it didn't.

At seven o'clock, I heard a knock on the door. I got up carefully from the couch so as not to wake Charles and opened it.

Kelly was standing there with Max. I invited them inside, and while they sat at the table, I prepared breakfast: cheese and ham wraps.

"Charles was screaming in the night. He said he dreamt that someone had crashed," I began, hoping to learn more.

"He probably meant his uncle... Jules Bianchi. He crashed at the Grand Prix in Japan. Charles saw it all, he was with him at the hospital. It left its mark on him. Everything got worse when Jules died," explained Kelly. "I didn't know him personally at that time, so I'm just telling you what everyone knows."

Max looked at the sleeping Charles on the couch. "In the end, all drivers are just little traumatized children inside. We should wake him up; practice starts soon, and I don't think he'd want to miss it."

While the guys raced in their Formula cars, Kelly and I sat in the VIP zone and drank coffee. Occasionally, we exchanged a few words. I didn't pay attention to the action on the track; I didn't have enough energy for it. I had dark circles under my eyes, and my face was swollen from the sleepless night. If I had at least a little sleep, maybe I would be interested in watching cars speeding over 300 km/h.