HOME | charles leclerc

nineteen.

"Reposez-vous pendant que je fais mes bagages, puis je viendrai avec vous chez vous pour que vous puissiez faire vos bagages." (Rest while I pack, then I'll come with you to your place so you can pack.)

My stomach dropped at his comment, following him into his bedroom. "Qu'en est-il de–" (What about–)

"Tu dormiras ici ce soir, ne t'inquiète pas." (You'll sleep here tonight, don't worry.) He cut me off, reassuring me like he knew I needed him to.

He always knew what I needed.

I watched as he walked over to his dresser, rifling through it. He came back out with a pair of joggers and a long sleeve, tossing it at me. I flinched as the clothing hit my face, still catching it.

"Pourquoi tu m'as lancé ça?" (Why did you throw that at me?) I laughed, questioning his motives.

"Je pensais que tu aurais froid." (I thought you would be cold.) His cheeks flush pink.

Oh my god, he's jealous.

Es-tu jaloux que je porte les vêtements de Lando?" (Are you jealous that I'm wearing Lando's clothes?)

His cheeks got redder as he pointed at me. "Je n'ai jamais dit cela." (I never said that.) I will never get over how fun and easy it is to tease Charles.

"La jalousie ne te va pas, Charlie." (Jealousy doesn't suit you, Charlie.) I giggled, blowing him a kiss as I walked into his ensuite.

I pulled off Lando's clothes and slid on Charles', the comfort of his clothing soothing me. I cursed as a string of giggles fell from my mouth, the joggers were nearly falling off of me as I exited the bathroom to rejoin Charles as he packed.

I was still laughing when I looked to him, "Je pense que le pantalon est un peu grand." (I think the pants are a little big.) I was holding them up with a hand, tossing Lando's clothes onto the foot of the bed.

Charles just looked at me for a moment, almost as if he were lost in a trance. He came back to, shaking his head. "Laisse moi aider." (Let me help.) He crossed the room to get to me, his hands going for the drawstring on the joggers.

My body lurched forward slightly at the strength with which he pulled on the strings, I watched far too closely at how his fingers tied the pants tighter. His proximity made my breathing shallow. Charles' face held a level of focus as he tied the strings in a bow, patting my hips and standing up straight when he was done.

"Mieux?" (Better?)

I nodded, breathing still shallow at how close he stood. Fuck, I want to kiss him. I wonder what his lips felt like?

Wait, no. I can't think about him that way, can I? Would it be weird if I did?

Charles Leclerc is my best friend, nothing more nothing less. Right?

~~~~~

The day passed by rather quickly, it took both of us a fair amount of time to pack our belongings for Jeddah, both dreading the time we had to wake up tomorrow in order to make it to our incredibly long flight. As promised, Charles stayed by my side as I packed and brought me back to his apartment afterwards for the night.

We were traveling together tomorrow anyway, so it made more sense for us to be in the same place. At least that's what i'm telling myself.

Lunch had been skipped today, snacks indulged in instead. Dinner, however, was a feast. Charles had decided that we'd cook everything we could find in his apartment – which wasn't much – so we could use up his groceries. Somehow, we had managed to make multiple dishes out of the small amount of food here. It took us hours to complete, but there was no shortage of laughter and joy to be had.

Charles and I had laughed so hard we cried, almost making me forget that I was only spending the night here because my ex-fiance had threatened me the night before.

"Je ne pense plus pouvoir manger." (I don't think I can eat anymore.) Charles sighed, rubbing a hand over his stomach.

We just finished eating dinner and it was after 9pm, preparing and cooking our meals had taken far longer than we had planned.

"Je pense que je devrais dormir." (I think I should sleep.) Charles nodded, leaning so far over on the couch that his head fell in my lap.

I chuckled at the action, my fingers immediately threading through his hair. His eyes flickered closed at the action, a soft hum of appreciation slipping through his lips.

We laid there for a moment, both relaxed on the couch as I played with Charles' hair. I was content as I sat there, running my fingers through his soft hair and admiring every detail of his side profile. He was so peaceful like this.

I envy the woman that gets to wake up to this sight every day.

Soft snores could be heard escaping him. I tucked my lip between my teeth at the sound of it, I always knew Charles felt comfortable around me, but him falling asleep on me felt like a whole different level.

A yawn came over me, sleep. We needed sleep.

"Charlie," I spoke, my fingers leaving his hair and tracing soft patterns on his face, "J'ai besoin que tu te réveilles." (I need you to wake up.)

His eyes fluttered open and he rolled over, now facing upwards looking at me. "Désolé je me suis endormi, Della." (Sorry I fell asleep, Della.) His cheek wore a faint blush, something I'd seen multiple times today.

I shrugged, hand now resting on his chest, absentmindedly tracing circles there. "Je pense que nous le regretterons si nous ne dormons pas correctement." (I think we will regret it if we don't sleep properly.)

He nodded, sitting up, only to make my hand fall down his chest and into his lap. Charles was quick to grab it, warming my cold hands in his. "Cela vous dérange-t-il si nous partageons le lit ? Je ne veux pas qu'aucun de nous prenne le canapé." (Do you mind if we share the bed? I don't want either of us to take the couch.) Charles gestured back toward his room.

I shook my head, feeling the same way. "Cela ne me dérange pas." (That does not bother me.)

He sent me a smile, pulling me off of the couch with him. Charles almost immediately crawled into his bed, tucking himself under all of the blankets. I, for one, can't sleep in pants, so I had to find a pair of sleepshorts to change into before joining him. Moments later, I did, his long sleeve shirt still adorning my body as I climbed in next to him.

"Della–" Charles cut himself off, "Pas grave." (Nevermind.)

I rolled over to face him, raising a curious brow, "Non, dis-moi." (No, tell me.)

Another blush on his cheeks. "J'allais demander si nous pouvions nous faire des câlins, mais oublions ça." (I was going to ask if we could cuddle, but let's forget that.) He seemed so small when he asked, almost as if he were afraid of what my answer might be.

I didn't answer him, instead, I scooted closer, allowing myself to be wrapped in his embrace. I think a sound of surprise left his lips when our bodies collided, but he still held me close. My head was on his chest as his arms wrapped around my body, our legs tangling together.

"Merci." (Thank you.) He mumbled under his breath.

I snuggled in closer, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and how his steady hearrate seemed to lull me to sleep.

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i love charles and addie