When Penelope walked into the lounge of their hotel suite, she heard Charles take an audible breath, mesmerised by the sight of her. In her tight, figure-hugging red dress, she looked truly beautiful, and she could tell by his expression that he thought so, too.
"Ready to go?" she asked him, her hair falling around her shoulders in loose curls as she removed the clips that had been holding it in place, slipping her feet into heels that were less than comfortable to walk in.
There was a moment where his eyes glowed with a primal attraction, standing to greet her, his hands starting on her hips but caressing downwards like all he wanted to do was touch her. "You look amazing," he breathed, his lips grazing against the soft skin of her neck as Penelope's fingers gripped the countertop, trying so desperately to stay focused.
"You like it?" she asked, almost shy as she pulled back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I chose the colour because it reminded me of you."
"I'd like it a lot better on my bedroom floor..."
Before she knew it, Penelope felt his hands on her, his fingers tracing over her skin, making her spine tingle. She bit her lip, hard, as he began to kiss her, softly at first but growing quickly in need. He pressed closer to her, pinning her there, powerless against him. She wasn't the type of girl to submit so easily, though. It was almost painful, but she pushed him back slightly, keeping him in reach, her fingers tilting his chin upwards until their eyes met. She could feel the shape of him press against her leg, a small gasp escaping from his lips as she palmed him. That feeling was indescribable: knowing that she had full control over him, that he'd do anything, be anything, say anything just to be touched by her.
As her fingers unfastened the zipper on his jeans, she brought his mouth to hers, moving slowly even though she could feel him begging her to go faster. His hands gripped her so firmly that it was bordering on being painful, but she liked it. His eyes trailed over every inch of her, completely mesmerised.
Slowly, carefully, tenderly, Charles began to kiss her neck, sucking on her skin as she whimpered at his touch. He whispered in her ear every few seconds, kissing her between breaths. Everything felt heightened, like her skin was on fire and he was fanning the flames.
"Fuck," he breathed, his hand moving between her thighs now, her legs spreading for him without much asking. "I-"
"Shh," she instructed, biting his lip as she kissed him before pulling back, less than an inch between them. She didn't care about words or whatever he had to say when this was all she could think about. "Don't talk."
Soon, his mouth was on hers and nothing else mattered. The dress she'd planned to wear to dinner was torn off, lying in a discarded pile on the floor as she wrestled with the buttons on his shirt, tugging it off and running her hands over his chest. One by one, items of clothing fell away as they fought to get to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes along the floor.
"The light," Penelope gasped as she fell back onto the bed, legs around his waist. "I forgot to turn it off."
Charles's eyes sparkled with a devilish light. "Leave it on. I want to look at you."
"Kiss me," she told him, pulling at his neck until he was on top of her, melting into one, lost in the blinding white light of pleasure until it was over. Afterwards, they led side by side, out of breath but grinning at one another like teenagers.
"That was..."
"Fun," she finished, grabbing his bottle of water off the side table as she ran her fingers through her hair.
Charles just grinned, rolling over to face her. "Really fucking fun."
"Wanna go again?" she asked, crawling towards him until she was sat atop him again, her mouth lingering against his as they kissed, expecting him to say yes.
To her surprise, Charles shook his head. "I'd love to, but we have plans, remember? I'm taking you on a date."
Penelope half-laughed, thinking he was joking. "Yeah, right. You cancelled that."
"Nope. Car's picking us up in an hour."
"Oh," Penelope groaned, collapsing against his chest. "Can't we skip it? Go to dinner another night?"
"No," he laughed, "we can't. Your birthday is tonight, I've been planning this for weeks, so suck it up. You're not ruining this for me."
"Hang on, is it my birthday or yours? This is weirdly important to you, Leclerc."
"Ha ha. You'll love it, I promise. Come on, get up, get changed, let's go."
Gently, he lifted her up, forcing her out of the comfort of the bed. He grabbed the shirt she'd ripped off him, laying it across her shoulders and kissing her cheek in the process. Penelope stared at her suitcase, then back at the red dress abandoned in the hallway. "Could have a problem."
"Which is?"
She pointed to her dress, pulling a face. "My outfit is in two pieces."
Charles gave her a sheepish smile, winking at her. "Sorry about that, it's on me. I'll buy you another one."
"Oh, will you?"
"Course."
"That dress cost $47000."
Penelope thought he was going to keel over on the spot. "What? $47000? For a dress? Is it made out of gold?"
"I wish," she said, shaking her head as she tried not to laugh, routing through her suitcase to try and find something else to wear. To her dismay and surely her boyfriend's amusement, she had only one option. "Well shit."
"What?"
As she held up the familiar white dress, she could practically see his eyes light up. "Is that my favourite dress?"
"It is," she admitted, giving him a coy smile. "The universe really likes you today."
Charles winked at her again, tossing her makeup bag at her and pointing to the clock like he wanted her to hurry up. "Well," he said, "maybe it is my birthday after all."
*************************************
An hour later, after a lot of panicking about being late and rushing to get ready, Penelope and Charles were sat in the car on the way to the restaurant. To her annoyance, he'd avoided giving her any details other than they were leaving the hotel at 8pm and to wear something nice. Now, as she sat across from him in the cab, she couldn't help but wonder what he was up to.
"Hey Nell?" he said quietly, snapping her out of her daydream. "I wanted to tell you that you look really beautiful tonight."
Even after all this time, she couldn't stop herself from blushing. The butterflies she'd felt on the first day they'd met were still there, even now. With a tender touch, she kissed him, letting herself get lost in the moment. She was so grateful to have him that it hurt. "I love you," she whispered, kissing the tip of his nose the way she always did.
"Are you excited?" he asked her, adjusting the collar of his shirt in the way that normally meant he was feeling nervous. She couldn't quite figure out as to why.
"Of course. I'd be a lot more excited though if you'd tell me where we're going."
That earned her a smile. "Ah," he said, making a clicking noise with his tongue, "no can do. I have big plans in store, Miss Jonas."
"See, when you say that, I get nervous."
"Don't be. It's all under control."
Penelope wasn't convinced. They were driving through London, though it wasn't a part she recognised as being known for restaurants. "Right. Charlie, listen, I just wanted you to know...I love you for doing all of this and putting in all this effort and no matter where we're going, I'm just happy to be spending my birthday with you. I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you."
"You're welcome," he beamed. "You know I'd do anything for you."
Penelope kissed him, but soon she was distracted by the view out the window. She knew this part of London, and it definitely wasn't where people tended to go for dinner. The car had rolled to a stop, the driver coming round to open the door for them, but surely this couldn't be right. They'd pulled up outside a massive hotel, right in the centre, where they hosted events thrown by very rich people. You might be wondering how she knew this information, but the answer was a simple one. This was the exact hotel she'd lived in during her training camp in England all that time ago, her first trip away from home with Jasper and her skating crew. She'd had to recruit sponsors to cover the cost of the trip because it was that expensive, and in the evenings she'd attended events in the grand hall as an ambassador to earn the money back. She'd lost count of how many nights she'd spent here, sneaking into Jasper's room to watch movies when they were homesick or ordering ridiculous amounts of room service to make themselves feel better. This place had shaped her, and being back...it was a feeling that was difficult to capture in words.
"Oh, this can't be it..." she murmured, tugging on Charles's hand as he helped her from the car, seemingly unphased like everything was going to plan.
"We're going to the restaurant," he told her, almost having to drag her. The evening air was cold (typical Britain, again), but ever the gentleman, Charles draped his jacket over her shoulders to keep her warm. "It's okay, come on."
"But...there isn't a restaurant here. It's down the street, a fancy Italian place. We could never afford to eat there when I lived here before, then last year I came back with Jasper and we ordered like everything on the menu just to prove a point."
"Just trust me," Charles laughed, like listening to her was the funniest thing in the world. "Here, close your eyes. I'll make sure you don't fall."
"But-"
"Penelope, amore mio, do you trust me? Hm?"
Frowning and stubborn, she met his eyes, not wanting to give in. She knew she was right, but there was something in his eyes that told her not to argue anymore. "Yes, Charles."
"Then just listen to me. Come on, I've got you. That's it."
Slowly and cautiously, Penelope closed her eyes and followed his step, letting him lead her in through the foyer and into the body of the hotel. It was strangely quiet for a Saturday night, the usual bustle seemingly missing. At one point, she'd tried to take a peek but he was too clever for her, putting his hand in front of her eyes to block her potential view.
"Don't let me fall," she grumbled, clutching his hand.
"I won't," he promised, putting a hand on her back to signal for them to stop. "Okay. You ready?"
Penelope nodded, though she had no idea what to expect. With a flourish and a cry of 'Ta da!" Charles removed his hands and revealed not a restaurant but the grand hall of the hotel, set up for a party. There were great silk ribbons lining the walls, pastel balloons, flower arrangements, and just about every single person Penelope had ever met holding mini confetti cannons, releasing a stream of paper into the air as the room erupted with noise.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY PENELOPE!" the group chorused as she burst out into joyous laughter, the confetti raining down on them as she tackled Charles with a hug, squeezing his cheeks as she kissed him.
"How did you...oh my god! You did this?" she asked him, "for me?"
"I told you I had it under control," he grinned, blowing a piece of confetti from the tip of her nose. "They're all here for you. All of this is for you."
Upon studying the crowd, she began to pick out familiar faces as they sang to her, a very loud rendition of Happy Birthday that had a lot of soul but not a lot of tune. A lot of the grid was there, all wearing matching pink party hats that made Penelope wonder how much Charles had to pay them to be here. In the corner, she spotted the girls from the dance studio back home, people from the Percy Jackson crew, her hair and makeup team, her stylist. Charlotte and Logan waved to her, Li standing between them with her usual grumpy expression, but when she met Penelope's eyes even she couldn't help but smile. Charles's family were in the front row, his brothers holding a banner between them, Arthur giving her an ever-flirtatious smile. Even Carlos and Britney were there, which was surprising given that they were both still holding a grudge over her decision not to take the Spain deal. Finally, right at the front, stood Jasper, Will and Jane, and it was seeing their faces that snapped Penelope back to reality just as the song ended.
"Oh my god!" she chocked, hugging Jane tightly as Jasper patted her shoulder, giving Charles a thumbs up. "I can't believe you guys are here! You came all this way for me?"
"Of course we did!" Jane enthused, Will's arm settling around her shoulders as she stepped back. The sight of them together made Penelope's heart feel like it might burst. "It was all Charles's idea. Since you couldn't spend your birthday at home, we brought the party to you! It was nothing, really."
"I mean, it was a ten hour flight for some of us," Logan added, his party hat askew like it had been forcefully placed there against his will. "But sure, it was nothing."
Beside him, Charlotte stomped on his foot so hard that his face went white. "What Logan means to say is that we really missed you, and we're happy to be here. Right, Logan?"
"Right!" he squeaked, giving Charlotte a look that said 'what was that for?' "Happy birthday Nell. So very happy to be here."
Penelope just smiled, blowing them a kiss as she scanned the room again, thinking she must have missed something. Her eyes landed on everyone in turn, searching for her family. Charles wouldn't have forgotten to invite them, and although things were never going to be the same as before, they were on good terms. They hadn't spoken since Mirabel had turned up at the hospital in Barcelona, but it was her birthday. Her grandmother had never missed one of her birthdays.
In her family, birthdays were an important tradition. No matter how little money they'd had or where they'd been in the world, Mirabel had always insisted they celebrate every one together. Even when her brothers were touring during their music days, they'd find a way to come back together, and when her abuelo had passed it had only grown more important. Penelope had always suspected it was a way of trying to make their lives feel normal like all the other kids who had mommys and daddys that threw birthday parties and made cakes and took embarrassing family pictures to show their kid's partners when they were old enough. Looking back through the few photos of her biological father that her grandmother kept locked away in the attic, Penelope noticed that there were no birthday pictures of him. Deep down, she wondered if Mirabel felt that she'd failed her son in his childhood, blamed herself for how he'd turned out. Maybe she'd thought that if she tried with the grandkids, gave them the life he never had, they'd be different.
Mirabel had never stopped trying for her siblings, even when Frankie was in the darkest place, just a shadow of himself coming down off a high on his twentieth birthday, she'd still tried. Penelope remembered having to hold him up at the table as they sang happy birthday to him, dragging him to the bathroom straight after as he threw his guts up, splashing cold water in his face to try and keep him awake. She'd stayed on his bedroom floor that night, terrified that if she let herself sleep, she'd wake up and find him dead next to her. Afterwards, abuela had acted like nothing had happened. "Must have been a sickness bug," she'd told Penelope the morning after. "I'll make chicken soup, that'll sort him out. Our poor birthday boy!"
Yet, despite all that...Mirabel wasn't here. None of her brothers were ; not Joe or Kevin, Nick or even Frankie, despite all those promises they'd made to always stick around, even if she and their grandmother were fighting. In some cruel, unforgiving way, Penelope took it as a sign. After everything, Mirabel had made it clear. She'd given up on her. Penelope was too far gone. She wasn't worth trying for anymore.
Penelope had been called many things, but she'd never been likened to her father. She'd never known him or her mother, her dad dead and her mother leaving when she was a baby, probably dead too or somewhere far away. Yet, her fate was sealed, now. She too would just be a forgotten child, a few photos collecting dust in her grandmother's attic, her life in pictures stopping at twenty-two.
Somewhere in the room, a stray party-popper burst, releasing a sad stream of confetti into the air. Suddenly, she was back, putting on a smile like nothing was wrong. "Well, what are we waiting for?" she called, throwing her hands in the air as music began to play, the lights dimming. "This is a party! Time to dance!"
No one needed telling a second time. Waiters made their way into the crowd carrying glasses of champagne, which Penelope gladly accepted. She downed the glass in seconds, quickly taking another.
"Penelope," Charles said, raising his voice to be heard over the music. He moved to stand in front of her, his hand resting on her waist. He was frowning at her, like they had some weird telepathic connection that told him when something was wrong. "You okay?"
She rolled her eyes, the walls he'd worked so hard to knock down suddenly back up. "I love this song! Dance with me?"
Charles gave her a look, still holding her. "Nell-"
"Shh! Come on, it's a party! You have to dance with me."
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he knew better. "Can't promise I won't step on your feet."
*******************************
The party was loud and packed full of people, which provided Penelope the perfect opportunity to escape it. She'd already danced for hours, drank far too much champagne and had more fun than she thought she ever would, but right now she just needed air. The world was still spinning as she stumbled out of the back doors, the cool evening air hitting her almost instantly. Pockets of people were standing around, some of them waving to her as she walked past.
"Happy birthday!" she heard someone call, though she couldn't pay enough attention to notice who. "Looks like you're having a good night!"
Yeah," she called back, waving her hand at them as she tried not to fall over her own feet. "Thanks."
Finally, after a few minutes of wandering though the hotel grounds, she found somewhere she could be alone. Kicking off her shoes (her feet hurt, after all), Penelope sat back on a set of concrete steps overlooking the gardens, downing a glass of some kind of vodka cocktail she hadn't even realised she'd been carrying. The noise of the party floated towards her, but she couldn't bring herself to go back inside yet. She just needed a minute to catch her breath, that was all.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, her solace didn't last as long as she'd planned. A few seconds later, someone sat down beside her, covering her shoulders with something that felt like a dinner jacket, big and warm, scented with a familiar cologne.
"Hey," Charles said gently, "I've been looking for you."
"Sorry," she said, her cheeks blushing though she wasn't sure why. Like a reflex, her hand reached out to rest on his cheek, like she was scared that if she didn't keep a hold of him, he'd somehow disappear. When she kissed him, she tasted like vodka. "Thank you. For all of this."
Charles smiled at her then, his eyes full of an adoring love. "You deserve it. Everyone here loves you. I hope you know that."
She nodded, but suddenly she found it difficult to meet his eyes. "Yeah."
Softly, Charles nudged her arm, making her look up. In his hand, he was holding a small square box, gesturing for her to take it. "It's been so crazy that I almost forgot to give you this. Almost."
Penelope stared at him with wide eyes, taken aback. "But the party-"
"Was just a party. You really think I wouldn't get you a proper present? Come on now, amore mio, you know me better than that."
Penelope turned the box over in her hands, her brow raised slightly as she studied it. "What is it?"
"Open it and find out," he instructed, watching her closely. With shaking fingers, Penelope prised the clasp open, almost dropping the box when she saw what was inside. Nestled in vivid red fabric was a gold band, topped with a diamond that glittered even in the darkness of the night. It looked old, like it'd been worn before, but it was nothing short of beautiful. Penelope looked at him with glassy eyes, her lip quivering.
"Oh my...Charlie, what is this?"
When he spoke, his voice was soft, but also a little sad, like the subject was hard for him to talk about. She wasn't sure when it'd happened, but he was holding her hand, their fingers laced together like they were made to fit each other. "It's my mum's engagement ring, from my dad. She gave it to me that night at her birthday party. She told me that she wanted me to have it, to give to you when we were ready. Penelope, I love you. What my mum was to my dad, you are to me. It's only right that you have it. I'm not asking you to marry me, I've got other plans for that, but this is my commitment to you. I've never been as serious about something as I am about us."
Weirdly enough, Penelope quickly felt pretty sober. Her heart was pounding a million beats per minute. "You want me to have it? Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. It's a promise from me, that I'll always love you. No matter what happens, I'll always love you."
Penelope kissed him again, trying to take everything in. She beamed with happiness as he unfasted the necklace she always wore, attaching the ring beside her car pendant, both of them resting against her heart. "It's beautiful. Thank you."
Charles gave her a satisfied smile, chuckling to himself. "Did you think I was gonna propose?"
Again, Penelope blushed. "I mean, you gave me a ring..."
"I'm going to marry you, Penelope Jonas," he declared, kissing her before she could speak. "One day, maybe sooner, maybe later. You'll just have to wait and see. That's a promise."
"What if I asked you?" she teased, leaning against him as he kissed her forehead. "Normal is boring, anyway."
"Don't spoil my fun," he pleaded. "Let me have this. You can have another first."
"Oh, really? Like what?"
Charles was silent as he pondered the question for a while, thinking it through. She loved the way his brow creased when he was really concentrating. "You can name our first kid, if you want."
"Wow, this is really important to you, huh? First kid for the proposal? Big things at stake here, Leclerc. You're a brave man."
"Absolutely. I have it all planned out, Miss Jonas. Hey, one day I'll be calling you Mrs Leclerc."
Mrs Leclerc. It seemed so far away and surreal that Penelope could barely comprehend it. She'd always thought she'd keep her last name, but at the minute she didn't feel like she was a part of the Jonas family anyway. Maybe getting rid of it would be easier than she'd thought. "Okay, Romeo. One step at a time."
"Okay," he agreed, still smiling. "Whenever you're ready."
"Hey, Charlie?" she whispered after a while, still snuggled against him. "I would've said yes, by the way."
Something in the way he looked at her told her he already knew. "For what it's worth, I would have said yes too."
"We're on the same page then, hm?"
"Sure. Though don't get any ideas. I have this all planned out."
Penelope raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to look at him. "Really?"
"Yep," he declared, his voice proud, like he was all made up over his efforts. "Since our first date."
"You say that about a lot of things. You did a lot of thinking that night, hm?"
"Of course. But for now, my lips are sealed. Come on, we should probably go back inside. People will be looking for you."
Penelope went to stand with him, but her legs wouldn't respond to her brain. She couldn't get herself to move, stuck there like the concrete was coated with glue. Charles was watching her, waiting expectantly. "Oh, um...you go, I'll catch up," she told him, waving a dismissive hand.
Frowning, Charles tilted his head like a puppy who couldn't understand the command she was giving him. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah!" she insisted, though it was unconvincing, even to her own ears. "Just uh...just tired."
"Penelope," he said knowingly, in that tone that always managed to pull the truth out of her. He sat back down on the steps, settling in like he knew he wasn't going to be moving anytime soon. "You're sad."
"Sad? No! How could I be sad? I have you, and this party, and all these people that I love who flew halfway across the world to see me. I should be happy! I am happy."
There was an understanding in his eyes that made her stomach twist into a knot so tight she thought she might throw up. "I know. But I saw your face in there earlier. You were looking for them. For your family."
Their eyes met, his heart breaking at the sight of the sadness in her smile. "It's just...here I am, at this big party full of everyone we know and the only people missing are the people that got me here. It just hits me sometimes."
Charles kissed his teeth, shaking his head. "You wish they were here?"
She nodded, staring off into the distance. "Honestly? I don't know. I guess part of me misses that chapter of my life. But right now, I just want to enjoy all of our first times. That's what matters to me, I think. It's just hard to accept that it's over."
"I get that. But I also know that there's a whole party full of people who love you in there. Maybe you lost some people along the way, but look at what you've gained, too. They are always going to love you, for who you are now, not who you were or who they wanted you to be. Nothing's really ending, Nell. It's just a new chapter beginning."
"You think so?"
"I do," Charles said, nodding decisively. She hadn't noticed before, but he was holding a small pink envelope in his hand, covered in stamps and postage marks like it had been sent from somewhere far away. "She asked me to give this to you, sent it to me a few days ago after I asked her to come tonight. Said to wait until your birthday, that it was important. I don't know what it is, and you don't have to open it if you don't want to, but I think you should."
"I don't know what to do," she said quietly, turning the envelope in her hands. She was sick of these by now. If she never saw another ominous letter, it would be too soon.
Charles kissed her cheek, his fingers lingering against her skin. Having him beside her made her feel stronger, more complete. If it was bad, he'd always be there to pick up the pieces. She loved him for that. "Open it," he told her. "And if you wanna get out of here-"
"You'll drive the getaway car?"
His eyes sparkled with a playful reminissance as he chuckled, nodding. "Engine's already running."
"You've made me that promise before, you know."
"At your brother's wedding."
"Yeah."
"And I mean it. Always."
There was a certain peace in it, sitting on the steps, contemplating life. The seal on the envelope broke with ease, though inside was not just a letter. When Penelope tipped the envelope upside down, several sheets of photo paper tumbled out, scattering across the concrete. Right at the back was a single sheet of white lined paper, a note written across it.
Penelope, it read, in her abuela's handwriting. Funny how it had been so long, yet it took her less than a second to recognise it. Some things, no matter how hard you try to shake them, stay with you forever. She hoped that was one of them. Although we may not share what we used to, I hope you never forget where you came from. Gone are the days where I used to watch you sleep but I wish you to know that now, as you grow, I watch your life in pictures. I thought you might like to see my favourite moments since you left. Happy birthday.
"Oh, look," Penelope whispered, pointing to a picture of Charles and herself in the paddock, holding hands and smiling. There was another of them cycling round a circuit, hysterically laughing. A third had her pictured on the ice (taken at Nationals), one of her with Charles's family at an event. There were ten more like it, all her important moments. She hadn't realised her family had cared. "It's us. All of them."
Charles glanced over the pictures, like they made him emotional. "She kept all of these?"
Penelope nodded, biting her lip to stop herself from crying. "Maybe she did care, after all."
"I think so."
"This is her way of saying goodbye, isn't it? She's telling me goodbye."
Charles put his arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead. "You'll find each other again. When you're ready, you will."
"Can I...can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Do you think I'll be okay? If this is how it's going to be, if I lose all of them...do you think I'll be okay on my own?"
"Penelope," Charles said softly, taking both of her hands and pressing them against his chest, right above his heart. "Look at me. You're not just going to be okay: you're going to be amazing. And you're not on your own. You'll always have me."
"I wish things didn't have to change all the time. Life is always going too fast. I wish it would just slow down for once. Does that make sense?"
He nodded. "Yeah. We don't have to change, though. I can't do much about life, but I can promise you that."
Penelope kissed him then, pulling him to his feet. When they parted, she leant back against his chest, his arms crossed around her as she pointed to the night sky. The darkness was alright with tiny white lights, the stars shining above them.
"Look! Is that a shooting star?"
Charles squinted, trying to see. "I think it was just a plane."
"No! I saw it, honest!"
"Did it have wings? And engines? And made a noise like brrrrr, because if it did then it was definitely a plane."
"You're not funny."
"Oh, but I am. Ask anyone."
"Shut up, Leclerc. You're spoiling the moment."
He grinned at her, resting his head against hers. "If it was a shooting star, then I think you're supposed to make a wish."
"Well, what should I wish for?"
"Whatever you want. Give me your hand, we'll do it together."
"Okay. You ready?"
"Don't forget to close your eyes!"
"Alright,," she said softly, her eyes firmly closed. "I'm ready."
On the count of three, they made their wishes, adamant they weren't to each tell the other. Penelope wasn't a superstitious person for the most part, and until she'd met Charles she hadn't believed in soul mates or destiny or true love. But maybe if she'd have known what he'd wished for, knowing her own, that would have changed. Because, at 1:29am on the 3rd of July 2022, both Charles Leclerc and Penelope Jonas muttered the same eight words in perfect harmony.
I hope I get to love you forever.
*********************