F1 Reader Inserts

Another Lie || CL16

"The truth," you echoed with a laugh. "Alright then, what was your birthday wish?"

"If I say it then it won't be granted," he said as the car idled and you nudged him to hurry up. "Fine...I wished I could come home...to you."

Of all the things he could have said that wasn't something you would have guessed. But it wasn't what he said, it was how he said it. The reservation in his tone, the hesitancy. The fear. He was afraid, but you weren't sure if it was because of the fear of rejection or humiliation that was behind it.

All you knew was that in that moment was that the version of the man sitting beside was the reason you had forgiven the one who was manipulative and controlling. This man beside you was a remnant of the man who held your heart.

You would give anything to have that man back.

You reached across the console and pressed the key button, the silence deafening as the roar of the engine cut out. He watched expectantly as you opened the car door and whispered, "Come home, Charles."

The hours were already creeping into the afternoon when you woke to the soft sounds of the piano in the living room. The keys hadn't been unused for months, since Charles left the prized possession behind when he moved out. You should have taken it as a sign that he was always planning to come back.

Slipping out of the bed, you wrapped a silk robe around your body and quietly followed the music that drifted down the hall. His back was to you as the smooth expanse warmed by the sunlight that bathed the open room, not a single scratch to be seen between the constellation of beauty spots that dotted across his lightly tanned shoulders.

Last night had ended gently, with Charles' body curled up behind yours and his fingertips softly tracing the curves of your body. He had kissed your shoulder blade as his hand eased your leg over his and your back arched as you welcomed more of his touch.

Charles' sigh had teased your ear when he buried himself in you and held you close. There had been no rush to his slow strokes. He hadn't been chasing release from whatever it was he had been feeling. He had been completely present in the moment, wanting it to last as long as possible in case it didn't happen like that again.

Before you reached him he shifted along the bench to make room for you. You silently slipped onto the seat, feeling his warmth spread through the silk as he continued the song you didn't recognise.

"Like it?" he asked as the last note faded out.

"Mhmm," you hummed as you rested your head on his shoulder. "What's it called? I don't remember hearing it before."

"It's new," he said with a smile before kissing your forehead. "Doesn't have a name yet."

Your head shot up in surprise. "You wrote it?"

"For us." His smile faded as he looked back at the keys and pressed a few in different variations. "I just don't know how it ends."

"You'll figure it out." You rose from the bench and made your way to the kitchen as he closed the piano lid before following. A small part of you wished he had remained at the piano since you had missed the lazy Sundays he would spend playing for you. Those hours spent on the balcony with a hot drink while watching the birds gliding over the water were some you savoured most of all.

Whatever white flag had flown overnight was slowly being lowered as he watched you from the breakfast bar. He cracked his knuckles impatiently before changing the order of his rings and sighing as you still said nothing, keeping yourself busy as you made two coffees.

"So," he started as you placed his favourite mug in front of him, his hand catching your waist before you could head back to the fridge and start breakfast. "Dinner tonight."