🌸 note 🌸
Hello everyone!
222k reads, wow! Thank you so much. Here's a little something that might cheer you up. This chapter brought me so much peace and calm and I hope you will feel the same. Let me know.
Loads of love and happiness, Anna <3
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Italy, August 2019
There was something about that house in Genoa. Charles had spent there many nights and always felt at home there. He couldn't really pinpoint why this house felt like it, but there was a part of him that didn't even want to know the secret.
It was a hot summer day in Genoa. It was Italy just like he remembered it from his childhood. The weather was sultry, so he knew there would be a summer storm in the evening. The sun beating down on him, the breeze whistling in his hair and the sound of birds overhead.
He loved Italy. He might be from Monaco, yet a piece of his heart always belonged to Italy. Maybe it was because of the weather, or the childhood memories or because of the Italian he fell in love with so many years ago. Charles shared this weakness for Italians with Jules. He didn't know much about his dating life but knew he used to date at least two Italians. He always said how Italians are passionate, gentle, good-humoured and beautiful.
He looked at the Italian who stole his heart. She was lying on a couchette, wearing just her bikini and those iconic cat eye Prada sunglasses that she got from Sebastian years ago. She treasured them like her own child.
She changed, yet she didn't. She was still that petite, outgoing, loud, passionate girl he knew. She was just too perfect with her light brown wavy hair framing her cute face. Her skin was tanned by the Italian sun making her freckles show, and her kissable pink lips carried a smile.
A smile that was a bit broken, but Charles knew time could heal that. He knew time could also heal those jutting-out ribs and collarbones. It just needed time and love - loads of love.
A breeze played with Charles' hair, but he didn't even bother to fix it with his hand. He didn't want to break that harmony. Everything seemed so right at that moment. Things he wasn't sure about suddenly seemed clear. Life made sense in that brief moment, and he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he hadn't left to race. What would happen if he just stayed here with Pia for the rest of his life?
Just her and him, and nothing else. There was a part of him which wanted this life. He hadn't felt that calm in a long time. The Monegasque loved racing more than anything, but he also fell in love with this moment, with that idea of his life like this – quiet, tranquil, easygoing.
The Ferrari driver was more than aware that Pia was still mad at him, but he knew he could fix it. Even after hurting her so much, he could still see that she had a weak spot for him - for his love.
Charles was the first person to love her whole. He was the first one to accept her with every single flaw. He was the first one to be there for her every time she needed it. He showed her how happy, colourful, and gratifying life could be and Pia could never forget that.
He realised it fully two days ago when he arrived in Genoa. They talked about her eating problems and also her self-harming. She broke down after talking about it all. She broke down in Charles' arms. She still found his embrace soothing, comforting and safe. His arms were still her home.
They both knew talking was the biggest and the simplest thing to help. It was the first box to tick to begin the journey of healing. They both knew it wouldn't be easy, but Charles promised Pia that he would be by her side throughout it all. Of course, just talking wouldn't solve it all, but it was really important to know that Pia wanted to talk about it, fix it, and heal it. If she wasn't willing to fix it, it would be pointless.
That was a reason why her treatment failed the first time. Pia wasn't ready to heal and perhaps she didn't even want to. She was afraid to talk about things that bothered her. She wasn't comfortable with confiding. She just wanted to go home, so she did everything she could, so they would let her.
The act she pulled off was tremendous. The Italian remembered how tired she was from all that pretending. Now, she wondered if it was worth it. Yes, the psych ward was hell and they let her go home eventually, but she left just like she entered the treatment program. She was still unhappy, broken, bitter, empty, powerless. Maybe, if she stayed, they would indeed help her. Maybe if she stayed, she wouldn't feel now like she wasted four years of her life.
"What are you thinking about?" Pia's voice made Charles stop daydreaming. She merged through the garden to sit next to him with an Aperol spritz in her hand. The Italian looked effortlessly stunning. Maybe not for everyone, but for Charles surely. For Charles, she would overshadow every model on a runway.
"About staying here forever," he answered sincerely. It was nothing like his busy lifestyle, but he figured he might love to live like this – more organically, slow-paced. It was something he and Pia needed – a slow pace.
"Oh, don't be silly," the petite Italian giggled. The idea of her and Charles living together in Italy left her brain years ago. It seemed like an unreachable goal. She forbade herself from thinking about it because it always broke her heart. So, now when Charles said it might happen, she rejected the idea in her head immediately.
"Is it silly? Wanting to be here with you forever?" the Monegasque asked her.
"It is. You have duties to fulfil, goals to achieve, and dreams to accomplish." Pia said before Charles stole her glass and had a sip of the cold Aperol. It was refreshing.
The Italian thought about how unreasonable Charles was. He couldn't just decide from day to day that he would put everything behind without looking back. Obviously, she knew he wouldn't do it, but just the fact that he was thinking about it was silly.
"What if that's one of my dreams to fulfil?" the Ferrari driver asked the Italian. Despite being in Italy, they spoke French. They established it early in their relationship, and it seemed neither of them wanted to change it. Pia was definitely more comfortable in French than Charles was in Italian. His Italian was excellent when it came to racing, but he occasionally lacked vocabulary from different spheres.
"If so, you can still fulfil this dream when you're fifty, sixty. There's no time limit for that really, but there's a time limit for becoming a Formula One champion," the young Italian said. They both knew that there was some limit to that. He wouldn't be driving in Formula One forever.
"Are you telling me you would wait for me until fifty?" He asked her jokingly, but he knew he would never ask her for that. It would be way too selfish since Charles knew what Pia's dreams were.
She wanted to become a mother, preferably somewhere far away from the world of Formula One. She wanted to build a house somewhere in the countryside in Italy. Not so far away from the coastline. Maybe at the end of some small village. So it would be private with a large garden and orchard. She wanted a job, but nothing too busy since she wanted to see her kids grow up.
Her dreams were really different from Charles'. Not that he wouldn't want a family, but he had different values. He was more eager for achievements than Pia. Or maybe not, but for Pia, the biggest achievement would be if someone told her she was a great mother.
"What I'm saying is that you can live that dream with someone else, too," the Italian let out and looked into the distance.
"But I don't want that." He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before smiling at her contently. He wanted to kiss her so badly. She looked so alluring in that golden light of the sunset.
"And what do you want?" Pia asked the Monegasque. She could see how his gaze jumped from her eyes to her lips. The Italian tilted her head slightly to the left side and looked at his lips too. It wasn't that long since his lips were on hers, but did she really want it? Did she really want to put her heart on the line again?
"You," he whispered before planting his lips on hers. He didn't kiss her so long ago, yet this kiss felt different.
"Aren't you tired of repeating the same mistake again and again?" The Italian asked Charles quietly after they broke away from each other.
"I'm willing to risk it. Flat out or nothing, no?" The Ferrari driver said. Pia looked at him for a moment, analysing every emotion on his face, and then she smiled at him as if she'd never shed a tear for him. As if he never chose Charlotte over her.
"Flat out or nothing?" she repeated after him.
"Flat out or nothing," the Monegasque confirmed his words. He meant it. He was willing to try it again, but only if both of them were 100 per cent in.
"The thing is... I should hate you. I should want to hate you," the Italian expressed her emotions. She wasn't afraid of it because she knew Charles would say the same. They were supposed to hate each other by now.
"I should want the same thing." The Ferrari driver said just want Pia expected.
"But I don't hate you although I should," the brunette admitted.
"I don't hate you either. I don't know how to hate you, to be honest." His voice was quiet. To be honest, he feared a day when he would know how to hate Pia. She was his first love. He never wanted to hate her.
"Let's just be friends. I'm not ready for a relationship, but I expect you to do things with me considered inappropriate in terms of friendship," the Italian offered him. It would be like going back to the early stage of their dating.
"Inappropriate things? I'm pretty good with those," he whispered alluringly before kissing her. Maybe Pia had a good idea. Maybe it would be better like this – having no label, technically no commitment. It could be a way for them to learn to trust each other again.
"Kiss me longer, will you, please?" she asked him innocently, looking into his eyes after they broke the kiss. The sunset was reflecting in his eyes. His face was worthy of sin under the tangerine rays of the sun. At that moment, she was able to appreciate his splendour before Charles placed his lips on hers once again.
Uncontrollable feelings surged through Pia's body, and her fingers tingled in delight. Charles's hand brushed across her cheek softly. Pia's body was acting on its own, with no chains to hold her back from this pure paradise.
Pia and Charles got a thing for the type of people who were undeniably themselves. The ones with messy hair and even more chaotic souls. The kinds of people who wear their hearts on their sleeves and have passion in their tears. They got a thing for those who laugh at their own jokes and rejoice in their own success. The ones who fight for what they believe in and never let their spirits settle. There was an obsession with all the people who have the strength to remain soft and let their fire burn hard.
That's why despite it all, they were perfect together. Both Charles and Pia had messy hair and chaotic souls and wore their hearts on their sleeves. They weren't really careful with it, so they ended up with broken hearts more often than not. However, they both remained soft, willing to give it another shot because they knew how important it was to continue loving.