𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬 [charles leclerc]

chapitre unze

"All the more reason to black out, non ?" The brunette shook her head, pushing her fingers through her hair as he had caused for more tangles in the silky locks. "But I have high hopes, frangin."

— • —

When the evening fell, Colette found herself wandering around the luxurious accommodation amidst the city of Baku. Pierre had accompanied his team to a secluded dinner, similar to the other F1 teams, which left the Monegasque girl on her own for the evening. Still clad in the clothes she had worn throughout her day, she made her way up to the extravagant lounge on the fifteenth floor of the hotel with a view of the entire illuminated city. Sleep would not overtake her any time soon due to the slight time difference, might as well take advantage of the privileges of her stay.

"Buenas, Carlos, qué tal?" She was surprised to see the familiar face of the Spanish driver, a delighted smile forming on her face as she had not seen him in a while.

"Coco!" The Spanish Ferrari driver stood up from his seat once the girl entered his vision, an arm slung around her for a small hug before motioning her to sit down next to him on the sofa.

"Excited for tomorrow?"

"Sempre eccitato." The Spaniard answered with his limited knowledge of the Italian language. Colette grinned as he did recall some of the vocabulary she had tried to school him the season prior due to her Italian background and willingness to help him adjust to the native Italian Formula 1 team.

"È bello sentirlo—"

"Carlos, Mattia said that—oh," Their private chat was, however, cut short as Monaco's finest entered the lounge himself. His eyes followed his words on a slower pace whereby it a second took to realise his teammate was accompanied by a familiar brunette.

After days of radio silence, avoidance, and, to a certain extent, desperation, she suddenly appeared to be everywhere again. He had seen her yet again strutting around the paddock with their mutual French friend whilst he was stuck in his own motorhome. "Bona sera, Blanchet." He played it down with a curt nod, trying to be subtle with his wandering eyes. At least in the presence of the Spanish driver who was silently awaiting the rest of his sentence because he had been silent for a longer period than needed.

"Charles?" Carlos cleared his throat loudly to get the Monegasque back to reality, halting any possible intrusive thought dancing in Charles' mind.

"Right, one of the PU engineers needed to speak with you before tomorrow, or something." The French speaking driver answered as he scratched the back of his neck, pulling his thoughts together in order to recall his earlier encounter with members of the Ferrari team; focus on Carlos, not the brunette who had ran out on him and ghosted his embarrassing drunk messages, he never remembered sending, for days.

"Or something?" The Spaniard laughed, raising an eyebrow at the vague appearance of his teammate.

"I don't remember exactly what Xavi said." He gave in, taking a seat opposite the two on a luxurious fauteuil.

"I thought you said you spoke to Mattia?" Carlos was more than curious regarding the sudden mental absence of Charles and why his eyes diverted from his within seconds. Colette, on the other hand, stifled a chuckle at the awkward dialogue between the Ferrari drivers, finding the lack of professionalism very entertaining for such high-end athletes.

"I talked with both and one needs you now." Charles finalised, gesturing with his hands around as if to make a clear point from his rambling. It could have been Carlos' performance coach, it could have been his manager, but truth is that every thought he had had before entering the lounge completely slipped his mind, and to be fair, he did not really care. Since the reappearance of Monaco's golden girl, in Azerbaijan of all places, he had different questions to ask himself as she had left in a hurry when he last saw her.