Italics is French
Francesca walked into her apartment breathing heavily and coated in a layer of sweat.
She immediately beelined for the kitchen, catching her breath through her heaving chest as she filled a glass with water.
The woman let out a sigh, leaning against the kitchen counter and dropping her head. She managed to kick off her shoes - etiquette that she learnt from growing up in England - before lifting her head again and moving to open up some windows in the living room.
She had just returned from a morning run, having woken up to her alarm at 6am to force herself to do some form of exercise because she knew that she would end up procrastinating doing it if she didn't. As much as Francesca hated exercising, a morning run always lifted her mood for the rest of the day so she tried to get one in where she could.
Once feeling like she wouldn't fall on her wobbly legs, she jumped into the shower.
Dressed in a hoodie which was slightly to big for her and had the significant smell of Charles - she had definitely stolen it from him at some point - and a pair of leggings, Francesca grabbed her car keys. Her fridge was pretty much empty after she had spent the evening before emptying it of the food which had been out of date in there, so she forced herself to head to the shops.
Monaco was a small country and it was very well-known that quite a few Formula One drivers resided there whether it was during the season or not. So it was no surprise to Francesca to find fans asking for photos and signatures whenever she went, and it wasn't like she had the most subtle car in the entire world.
The pure black Mercedes GTR with the number 12 embossed just above the front wheel arches and Red Bull written across the top of the back wing in a shade of black just lighter to that of the rest of the car was a dead give away.
But she did have a flare for the dramatics...
So it made perfect logical sense.
Francesca couldn't help but give teasing waves and winks at the cameras she found pointed at herself as she finally climbed out of the car, trainers hitting the concrete floor of the car parked she'd parked in.
A parking job much better than Charles ever did.
If she could say so herself.
Although, it wasn't harder to be a better parker than him - how he'd passed his driving test,
She. Did. Not. Know.
Anywaysssss...
"Francesca!" A small group of teenage girls with French accents were the first to approach her. "Can you sign these please?"
"Of course!" Francesca grins happily.
The four Red Bull caps that were handed to her were signed with the effortless signature.
Francesca noticed the fourth and younger girl compared to the rest holding her phone up videoing the interaction with the Formula One driver, giving the small blonde a quick wink, Francesca whisked the phone out of the girls hand, smirking at the camera before handing it back.
"Thank you!"
🏎️💨
"Alright, Little Leclerc, what do you want?"
Arthur Leclerc grinned brightly as he stood at the other side of the now open door of Francesca Lewis' apartment.
The woman in question was leant against the door itself, arms folded across her chest and an eyebrow raised as she stared the mischievous Leclerc down.
"Nothing." He replies, grinning.
"You would not be stood there if you didn't want something. So spill."
"Can I not come and spend time with my friend without there being meaning behind it?"
"You can't actually, because you've made it clear many times before that you prefer other people over me - and you only ever come to me when you want something."
"Shit."
"Shit indeed."
Arthur scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, still grinning at Francesca who stepped out of the way to let him into the apartment.
But just as she was going to close the door, a shout made her pause.
"ARTHUR LECLERC! I AM GOING TO SMOTHER YOU WITH A PILLOW!"
"What the hell did you do this time!?"
Charles Leclerc burst into the apartment through the open door, chest heaving as he doubled over to catch his breath. For the second time, Francesca paused in closing the door because the third and eldest Leclerc brother, Lorenzo, burst through the door as well.
"Before I shut the door, is your mother going to burst into my apartment as well?"
"COME HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!"
Squealing for his life, Arthur darted from the living room with Charles giving chase.
Francesca turned to Lorenzo - who was supposed to be more mature than his two brothers, although that was yet to be proven - and received a shake of the head in response to her previous question.
As she closed the door, Lorenzo took off into the apartment after his brothers.
"WHY AM I ALWAYS LEFT DEALING WITH YOUR SHIT!?" Francesca shouts.
"FRAN! HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME!" Arthur's voice echoes.
"THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR BREAKING INTO MY APARTMENT!" Charles replies.
"YOU DID WHAT!?" Francesca screams.
She managed to locate the brothers in her office - god knows why Arthur had tried to hide in there - and upon entering the room, she couldn't help but snort at the sight she so happily got to witness.
"Help me!" Arthur cries.
"No, no. This is quite fun to watch actually." Francesca grins.
She leans against the doorway, watching Lorenzo hold Arthur's arms behind his back as Charles abused his brother with a pillow.
Just like he said he would.
"You bitch." Arthur grumbles.
"I'm siding with Charles on this one." She shrugs.
"But you don't even know the story!"
"I know enough." She laughs. "You always come to me expecting me to protect you from him."
"SO THAT'S WHERE YOU ALWAYS RUN OFF TOO!" Charles shouts.
"FRANCESCA!" Arthur whines.
"Whoops."
Lorenzo, who shook his head and decided that Charles was getting a bit to aggressive with the pillow, and managed to tackle it from his brother after releasing Arthur. But this did not stop the angry Monegasque who took off after his little brother who ran to another room of the apartment.
"So what happened this time?" Francesca asks Lorenzo.
"Arthur crashed date night." Lorenzo sighs.
"By breaking in?"
"He taught himself lockpicking."
"Of course he did."
The two walked out of the office and into the living room, Charles and Arthur had stopped fighting now but it was obvious that they had gotten a bit to engrossed in their fight because Charles was laid out on the floor next to the sofa rubbing his head whilst Arthur protected his own head with a pillow.
"I thought you would help me." Arthur says to Francesca, removing the pillow from his face.
"I never help you." Francesca replies.
"Because you love Charles."
"Your the one who fake married us. So it's your fault really, Arthur."
"Oh yeah."
"Charles," Francesca catches the attention of the Ferrari driver. "Please don't tell me you've left Alexandra alone in your apartment to beat the shit out of your brother."
"Merde!"
She pinched the bridge of her nose as Charles dove off of the floor and took of running out the front door. Arthur sat up on the sofa and watched after his brother who sprinted out of the front door whilst Lorenzo rubbed his temples.
"How did he manage that?" Arthur mutters.
"He's a bit slow." Francesca replies.
"I am stupid, I am stupid." Lorenzo mocks.
Francesca walks into the kitchen of the apartment, making coffees for the three of them before bringing them back into the living room where Lorenzo had sat himself down.
The few minutes of peace brought by Charles' departure were very quickly over.
Because Charles burst back through the door and beelined for his younger brother.
They were fighting again, with Lorenzo and Francesca watching as they sipped their coffee. Until Charles successfully retrieved his phone from Arthur's pocket and rushed back out.
"I hope you never make it into Formula One." Francesca sighs.
"I hope you never win a championship." Arthur retorts.
"Yeah, just make yourself at home." She sighs.
"I will." He grins.
Having now sprawled out over the sofa, Francesca knew she would not be getting rid of him.
————————————————————
Another chapter for you
Just a little filler chapter to introduce Arthur and Lorenzo into the story...
I SWEAR THE FRANIERRE STUFF IS COMING.
And I cannot take credit for the ship name, it wasn't me it was @foodandsleepforever
Much love,
- Hollie <3