Lilly & Leclerc ~ [CL 16]

31. Christmas Eve

24th December 2022

Charles sprung on me this morning that his family do Christmas celebrations tonight, as (allegedly) most families do in Monaco. He had revealed the information in bed this morning, whilst pulling me close under the thick covers and trapping me under his strong arms. Usually I wouldn't complain about being wrapped up in his arms, I'm pretty sure it's his favourite thing to do and it's my favourite place to be. Every morning we've been here I've found myself trapped under his strong grip and he presses his body against mine and dots gentle kisses against my neck. However today it made my whole body go rigid with slight alarm and panic.

"Of course we do presents tonight Lilly." Charles had mumbled in his glorious low and thick morning voice. The information had only made me squeak with stress and ask where the 'hell' was the sellotape around here as I pulled my body from his in a panic. I thought I would've had a few quiet hours this evening to finish wrapping the presents for Lorenzo and Arthur, having wrapped Charles and Pascale's yesterday when they were racing down the slopes. So our peaceful, cuddly morning was quickly interrupted with panicked wrapping and stressed hums.

Charles managed to drag me away from the mess of wrapping paper for an hour of skiing. I'd joined him begrudgingly, complaining as he slipped my goggles over my eyes for me with a quick encouraging and sweet kiss. I've decided I hate the sport with my entire being. Despite Charles being a very patient teacher over the last two and a half days, I can't help but feel as though I'm holding him back and he's quietly frustrated by my lack of progress. Every time I point this out he insists he doesn't mind, and bribes me for extra time together on slopes (using the term slope loosely due to my abilities) with kisses and promises of hot chocolate and wine before I become too grumpy for even that to convince me. Plus, the fact I can barely keep stood straight on a flat, much less going down any sort of hill just makes me feel like an uncoordinated toddler - the whole thing is highly embarrassing.

To make everything worse my hands get cold and there's something about the helmet that Charles insists on strapping to my head, eventhough I'm moving at 3mph that I find claustrophobic. Everytime I complain about he just repeats the word 'safety' in a different language and a shake of his head.

I don't think it's the sport for me.

Each time I mutter this sentence to Charles with an eye roll he can't see because of my goggles he just smiles and insists he's only good after 'years and years of practice'. But I've seen four year olds that seem to be more settled on their ski's than me, so I'm not entirely sure his whole 'year' theory is true. I think it might be more of a 'got it or you don't' situation. In that case I certainly don't have it.

After my allocated skiing hour I escaped the slopes, leaving Charles to join his brothers and mum for the afternoon, heading to the Après bar for a deserved hot chocolate. Word has escaped amongst other guests of the resort that Charles and the whole Leclerc family are here. Nobody has said anything directly (apart from an adorable starstruck eight year old boy who nervously approached Charles on Thursday and asked for a picture on his dad's phone), but everyone knows. They even, somehow, recognise me - I know from the quiet whispers and points in my direction that occur everytime I'm in the communal areas of the resort, even whilst alone cuddling mugs of hot chocolate. It just surprises me that so many people recognise me without Charles at my side for context. Although, I suppose we are in Italy, the home of Ferrari. Charles is their star, why wouldn't they know all there is to know about him? Even if that does include me. The thought initially made me uncomfortable but it's something I've grown used to over the last few days - I've got not choice really.

Having enough of the quiet glances in the bar I rushed back to the chalet as soon as my hot chocolate was drained from the mug. I placed the finishing touches on the gifts before popping them under the glittering tree. I managed to get a steaming hot bath (purely to try and defrost) and half dressed before Charles even returned from the slopes. When he returned from the snow covered hills he chased me through our room with the threat of touching my barely clothed body with his icy hands, only stopping when I promised to return every gift he'd ever bought me if he didn't leave me alone. Charles surrendered pretty fast after that, leaving me with his hands raised in defence as he slipped into the shower and I pulled some thick slipper socks over my toes.