Same but... different (Lestappen and Carlando)

Chapter 8

POV: Charles

I wake up feeling quite well, until I remember the race I couldn't even start. And then I realise that it isn't my alarm that just interrupted my nice sleep, but a notification sound. Curious, I grab my phone and my eyes open wide when the name "Max" finally travels to my brain.

- Shit.

Is all I say before quickly putting some random clothes on, hoping that I don't look like a clown, and head downstairs. I had actually forgotten to put any alarm yesterday, so it is already past 1 pm, and the Dutch winner informed me he would be there at 2pm. And knowing him and his rigid punctuality, I know he would rather be there early than late, so I really need to hurry up.

Like a coincidence, as soon as I am in my living room the bell rings, letting me know that he's already there. Shit, shit, and shit.

It's not that I don't want to see him, in fact I crave to see him. But I don't know how he will react after our previous... special videocall, or even the race. I don't want him to talk about it but I know it will be inevitable.

Not letting him wait any longer, I heavily walk towards the door, unlocking it before taking a deep breath and opening it.

- Hi Charles! Am I not too early? I can go by another time if now's not the time you know, he says in a pretty shy voice, his question still making sense because we never agreed on a time, mostly because I never answered his texts as I was sleeping.

- No that's okay actually I just... woke up, I add, which is basically the truth

I let him pass while stepping back, quickly closing the door after he crossed it. It's not that I don't want people to see him coming to my apartment, it's just... I don't know, I kinda like my privacy and I wouldn't want any picture of us to be shared like this.

- If you just woke up, you surely didn't eat then?

- No but I'm not really hungry, don't worry, as I pronounce these words, my stomach betrays me and growls louder than a racing engine.

I feel the heat accumulating in my cheeks as his cute laugh fills the room, the situation actually quite funny.

- Alright alright, I say while rolling my eyes, his smile contaminating me. If you don't mind I can cook something then? Did you eat already or...?

- Ehh I mean, I ate a bit but nothing enough to satisfy my post-party hunger for sure. I wouldn't mind some of your delicious cooking, he says while emphasizing the word, almost making fun of me

- Yeah yeah, laugh as much as you want but you'll thank me once this beautiful and delicious pasta fills your mouth. As the words escape my lips, a quick image of his mouth covered in pasta sauce crosses my mind and I shake my head to stop thinking about how sexy that was. Not now Charles, please.

He says nothing back and starts to wander around, while I get started on my cooking. Ironically, I know I'm not the best chief ever, but I do my best to impress him and, well, also because I am very hungry.

Once it's halfway done, I start wondering why the apartment's so quiet, and start looking for him. Where the fuck could he be, it's not that big here?

- Max? Maaax? I start to feel a bit anxious, is this a joke or something? He can't leave me like this, can he?

Finally, as I decide to stop the boiling water and search more seriously, I find him next to the TV, apparently looking through some... family album?

- Here you are, you fucker!

- Oops, sorry. Did you call me? I was too focused looking at this. Look, is that you? It's so cute!

As he points to one of my first go-kart picture, I can't help but smile fondly. Okay, maybe I should start considering that the fact that I really can't get angry at him is concerning. Or maybe not.