Misery | Charles Leclerc [Abandoned]

𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛.

Charles stands next to Fayen in the backstage area watching the model walk out at the close of the show. He is a little relieved that it isn't him walking out there. In hindsight he realises that he would have been in a lot of trouble with multiple people if he did go out there wearing a designer that he doesn't have a contract with.

Luckily the guy strode in just before the show started with the air of someone who had done nothing wrong. Fayen had been fuming under her skin, Charles could feel the fury radiating off of her as he stood ready to go out here just so Fayen's job would be saved. A quick outfit change later and nobody said a word about the whole ordeal.

Charles glances sideways at the woman who had been watching the show with hawk eyes to catch anything that could've gone wrong, but now the last model was walking the tension in her shoulders lifts and she even has a little smile on her face. It is an expression of relief. Her eyes shift from stress to pride and they glow in the little light that comes into the backstage area.

The crowd claps when the designers walk out and Charles joins the clapping, but instead to direct it in front of him he tilts his hands to Fayen and claps for her. The sound makes her look to her right and she laughs as she sees Charles clapping for her. First she rolls her eyes, but she can't resist the urge to make a little bow. He doesn't stop his clapping and even lets out a loud 'whoo' to her.

She slaps his arm and scoffs. "Stop it." But her smile stays plastered to her face and Charles feels like it's the brightest sight he has seen in a while.

"You deserve it though," he says, nudging her shoulder with his. "You've worked very hard and it almost went to shit."

She glares at him, but he holds a hand up in a gesture for her to wait. "But you managed perfectly and it all went great in the end. You deserve applause for that."

The woman looks at him and his breath hitches under the beauty of the sparkle in her eyes. When their gazes lock it remains for a second and then her eyes grow cold again. "I deserve a drink." Her eyes stand sharp and hostile, boring into his head. Then he remembers that they are not in a good place at this moment. A sigh rolls of his lips before he looks back out to the runway.

She looks back to the runway as well, where the designers are turning back to walk off it. Her eyes follow them and Charles steals a quick glance at her. He can see she is not thinking about the show anymore. There is a war waging behind her eyes and likely in her mind and Charles would give his life to know what she is contemplating.

"Then let's get one." The words are out before he has thought them through. She looks back at him with a raised brow. He shrugs, "I am free for the rest of the evening." He pushes his hand up through his hair, resting his hand in his neck before adding quickly, "That is if you want to."

Fayen cocks her head to the side and follows the line of his arm to where his hand is resting. Charles quickly lets down his arm, knowing what she must be thinking. She was the one to point out his nervous habit in the first place. To steady himself a little he pushes the traitorous hand into the pocket of his trousers. A feeling of great discomfort comes over him and he even feels a little clam coming onto his hands. He stretches the fingers from his free hand to get rid of the sweaty feeling. He looks everywhere except at the woman in front of him.

Charles feels pinned under her gaze, not moving, trying to give off an air of patiently waiting for her to decide. In the meantime he begins cursing himself. Why did he ask that? Wasn't he still mad at her for ignoring him? Will she think he means it as a date? Did he mean it as a date? Did he want it to be?

The last question makes his insides feel funny, like the way he feels just before the lights go out on the race Sunday. Not knowing what is going to happen, but ready for the excitement and pressure that will follow. The funny feeling is fueled by a little ember that was buried inside his chest weeks ago. It blazes to life and starts to spread his little sparks millimetre by millimetre through his abdomen. It lets him forget all his anger and resentment he had about her going radio silent on him.