Lock Up ⏐Charles Leclerc

Chapter 44

"You okay?" He asked, glancing at me as he drove to the airport.

I sighed and leaned my head on the window, eyes glancing at him. "I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be." He frowned, placing his left elbow on the center console. I sat up and moved so that my head was leaning on his shoulder and he softly ran his hands through my hair.

"A world where people like us get to keep our privacy doesn't seem realistic."

I've had a lot of fun this past week with Grey but it was still too soon for me to tell how I really felt about him. We haven't gone past kissing yet and I don't think we will for now. With him, I experience the feelings I got from my past boyfriends— he felt safe and normal. But sometimes, I ask myself if that's what I need. Do I need to have a sense of normalcy with my chaotic life or do I need a little bit of chaos to match the whirlwind I live in?

We arrived at the airport and the both of us walked out, him opening the boot to bring out my suitcase. "I'll see you in a few weeks?" He smiled, placing down my suitcase and running his hands up my arms.

"Yes. Better practice your French skills." I smirked since we'd be seeing each other back in France. Lando invited him to the race which means Grey will end up meeting my parents. They're flying in from Paris and have already booked a hotel in Toulon where most of the drivers and teams were staying.

"Ne me sous-estime pas." [Don't underestimate me.] He smiled and I raised my eyebrow at his French. It wasn't bad but he had to pause a little to make sure the pronounciation was right.

Rolling my eyes at him, I leaned up on my tiptoes to give Grey a peck on the lips, making him snake his hand up to the back of my neck to pull me back for a longer one. When I pulled away, I showed him a small smile before saying, "Bye, Grey."

He winked at me before I turned around and pulled my suitcase behind me, heading for the entrance of the airport. I arrived just in time for boarding and was one of the first to get on the plane. Seeing as we wouldn't be leaving for another forty minutes, I scrolled through my phone seeing the new texts from Milo.

Milo: babe are you sure you wanna go to Paul Ricard?

Valentine: why?

Milo: Ah! She's finally online 🙄
Anyway, Charles is already pissed because of the race and I have a feeling he's about to go all black magic in France

Valentine: What does this have to do with me?

Milo: Maybe the fact that you're bringing your new boyfriend?

Valentine: Grey's not my boyfriend

Milo: "the guy you're seeing then"
Have you talked to Charles ever since Silverstone?

Valentine: Milo, you already know I don't have to explain anything to Charles
We're just friends and that's all we'll ever be

I closed my iMessage and went through my Instagram, immediately closing it once I saw my feed which was full of F1 content— particularly of Charles. There was one video of him circulating around the internet and it was all everyone could talk about.

He was the second one to arrive, Ace already being weighed while Max had his victory lap. Charles was passing through parc fermé where he immediately went for the spot reserved for the race winner. Everyone grew quiet as the television channel focused on him frustratingly taking off his helmet and balaclava. Ace clapped him on the back and whispered a few words into his ear, the obvious disappointment on both of their faces. Charles was absolutely fuming as the cameraman followed him and he didn't bother congratulating Max as he parked his car, knowing that he was the true winner of the race.