Charles
I open my eyes reluctantly. I would most gladly go back to sleep, but today our stay at the hotel ends and we have to return to Monaco. I want to move to get up, but something, or rather someone, prevents me from doing so. After a moment, I realize that it is Max, who is hugging me from behind, and his face is snuggled into my neck. Warm and calm breathing wraps around my skin every now and then, and although it's pleasant enough that I'd like to stay in this bed for the next few hours, with an aching heart, I take his hands off my body and move away, feeling the chill right away. I continue to feel bad that I left Max, who felt bad after the race because of what happened, and went with Hamilton, who turned out to be a hick. I should have known that it is Max who is more important, and I acted, like an idiot. Blindfolded, stupid Leclerc ran after a ex, thinking that maybe further something could come of it.
I turn toward Verstappen with a smile to wake him up and I freeze. The smile comes off my face, and I sit still, looking at him intently. There is a bruise on his cheekbone, a cut on his lip, and huge bruises on his ribs. I carefully remove the quilt from him, swallowing my saliva with difficulty. His entire abdomen is covered with maroon bruises. I cover it again, gently running a finger over my cheek.
"Max." I say quietly, wanting to wake him up.
"Hmm..." He mutters under his breath, wanting to turn onto his stomach, but as soon as he moves he hisses in pain and contorts his face, immediately freezing. I think he realizes that I can see what has happened to him. And if he tries to dimly tell me that it was me who beat him in his sleep, I'll throw him down the stairs. "Hi." he says in a hoarse voice, opening his eyes.
"What happened to you?" I ask concerned. "He was here? Is that what he did to you?" I add increasingly panicked. "God, it's my fault, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have involved you, and now..." the boy puts his hand over my mouth to make me stop talking.
"It wasn't about you and no, there was no one here. Take it easy, Charles. Everything is fine." he rises to sit down, trying not to croak, however, I can see that everything hurts him. "Shall I make you breakfast? How are you feeling?" he asks, ignoring my worried look.
"God, Max, are you seriously asking now how I feel? Don't annoy me, you're the one who needs care, not me. I got a big, nasty rejection, and I'll get over it somehow." I shrug my shoulders, getting out of bed. "What do you want for breakfast?" I ask, walking toward the door.
"Don't be silly, go back to bed, Charles. You're the one here..." he doesn't finish, grabbing his stomach as he wants to get up.
"You lie down." I point my index finger at him. "Toast?" I ask, to which he reluctantly nods. I smile uncontrollably, looking at his sleepy face. He looks perfect immediately after getting up. His hair falls across his forehead as he lies on his stomach and hugs his pillow. The white quilt covers him only from the waist down, through which I can see his muscular back, tanned skin and.... Fuck, Charles. I walk out of the room, noticing my phone on the couch. I quickly take it in hand and see a missed call from Daniel. Confused, I call back, going to the kitchen to make Max breakfast. "You called." I say when he picks up.
"How is he? I'm calling you because he specifically ignores all messages." He sighs resignedly.
"That is, you know what happened. Tell me what you know." I order, taking toasted bread out of the cabinet.
"Charles, I can't, you know that." he says sadly. "But believe me, what happened was on an important matter, and don't get angry with him about it."
"Yes, I know. I apologize. I'm just worried, and he doesn't want to say anything." I explain quietly. "But irrelevant. Could you jump to the pharmacy to get some ointment for the bruises? I have a plane in a few hours, so you could stay with him until..."
"And you can't stay with him?" he interrupts me, at which I lick my chapped lips, wondering what to tell him.
"I have an important meeting, I can't." I reply, which is not exactly a lie. I have a meeting in Monaco with Pierre about the Red Bull driver. This is an important meeting, zero lies.
"Okay, I'll be there in three hours." He hangs up, so I go back to making toast.
I hum the melody of the song under my breath, until I suddenly flinch when someone puts his hands on my hips. After a second, Max's perfume enters my nostrils, so I relax, glancing at the boy, who leans his chin against my shoulder and looks in on what I'm doing. I continue to feel pain in my heart when I see his battered face. I don't know what happened and it's driving me crazy. I would most gladly kill whoever did this to him.
"Can we talk?" I ask, turning toward him as he moves away, taking his hands off my body. He nods uncertainly, facing me and leaning his back against the countertop behind him. "I can't get you to say what happened, but I'm really worried. Are you all right? Do you need help?" I ask worriedly. I lick my chapped lips, and my attention doesn't escape the Red Bull driver, who follows the movement closely, stopping his gaze on my lips for a few seconds before returning to his eyes. I swallow my saliva, feeling the strange, heavy air around us, making it hard for me to breathe.
"I trust you, Charles." he says quietly the words I've wanted to hear for a long time. "But I don't want to burden you or anyone else with my problems. You have a lot of your own things on your mind." He translates, which reassures me that I was right. Something has been gnawing at him for a long time, yet he keeps it inside.
"You have helped me more than once. Let me help you now. It's dear that you take care of everyone, but for once let me take care of you." I smile gently.
I look at his perfect face, his disheveled hair, his beautiful eyes, and it pains me to see how much he has been hurt by his whole life. I know he won't be rewarded by anything or anyone, which kills me even more.
"Charles, it's not important. You shouldn't care. I don't want to burden you with my problems, and on top of that..." I don't let him finish. I don't know what drives me, but I damn well want to do it. I walk up to him quickly and put my hand on the back of his neck, drawing him in for a kiss. Surprised, the boy belatedly reciprocates the caress, placing his hands on my hips and pulls me closer, clamping his fingers on my skin, making me sigh uncontrollably into his lips. Our half-naked bodies cling to each other. I don't know how much we kiss, but Max interrupts it when I move my hand from the nape of his neck to his hair, pushing his face back to mine. He looks at me confused, trying to normalize his breathing. "Why did you do that?" he asks quietly.
"I... I don't know." I grunt, pulling away. "I thought you wanted it." I add confused.
"Do you?"
"What did I?" I furrow my eyebrows.
"Did you want it?"
"I don't know, did you?" we both fall silent. "God, but awkward." I mumble, looking around the room. "I'm sorry, it was stupid."
I don't know why I did it, but it made it weird. Neither of us knows what to say, and I can't explain my decision. I mean maybe I can, but I lie to myself that it's not. Because I've never felt the way I do when he's next to me. I think it's time to have a serious talk with Pierre about my feelings, so that he can help me sort it out, because I can handle it on my own on average.
"I wanted to." he says so quietly that I can barely hear it.
I quickly turn my head toward him, finding his with my eyes. Just as I'm about to speak, my phone starts ringing, and when I look at the display, I see the name of Carlos, with whom I'm flying to Monaco. I curse his perfect timing in my mind.
"We'll finish this conversation later." I wink at him, quickly leaving the room, answering. "Yes, wonderful man?" I ask in an oversaturated voice, inside yelling at him for interrupting such an important conversation with me.
"I'll be there in five minutes." He says quickly and hangs up.
Without even saying goodbye to Max, I run out of his room, not paying attention to the fact that I continue in just my boxers, and run to my hotel room, which is one floor below. I have to pack in five fucking minutes, it's unrealistic, but I have to succeed, otherwise I'll stay here and have to go back with Max, after what happened.
I run into the room, pulling a suitcase out of the closet, which I throw on the floor and forcefully shove all my clothes into it. I sit down on the suitcase, closing it barely, and grab the prepared clothes from the bed, dressing them on myself. Suddenly I hear a knock on the door, so proud of myself I grab my suitcase and walk towards them. I open it, putting on my sneakers.
"I made it!" I say proudly.
"Ten minutes late, Charles." Says an amused Carlos, looking at his watch, and my face thins.
"Never mind, let's go now." I pass him, walking towards the elevator.
"Did you know that both Daniel and I saw you running into the room in just your boxers? And it's strange, because from the direction where Max has a room." He starts laughing as we stand in the elevator and wait for it to descend to the first floor. Embarrassed, I bury my face in my hands and press my lips into a thin line.
"Let's change the subject." I mumbled.
***
I sit on the couch, feeling like I'm being interrogated. Pierre walks to one side and the other, thinking about something. I look at my hands, waiting for my friend to speak up. I'm a little, like a kid who's been trumpeting something and is waiting to be punished by his mom.
"First of all, you're an idiot who stated that without telling me anything, he would go to a party with this asshole! Charles! What if he had hurt you more? I wouldn't see anything! No one would know!" he shouts, angry with my behavior. I decided not to lie, not to conceal anything, but to tell the truth from beginning to end. I ended it, of course, on yesterday, not to mention today's day with Max. "Secondly, I'm so damn glad you went to Max and you're fine." he adds already much more calmly, hugging me. I reciprocate the gesture, smiling under my breath. He's wonderful, despite how he sometimes gets angry with me and yells at me uncontrollably.
"There's something else." I mumble, and the boy moves away concerned. "Nothing terrible, take it easy." I say, to which he sighs with relief. "I... I kissed Max today." I say confusedly, scratching the back of my neck. Pierre looks unfazed by my words. "Sober." I add, at which he rolls his eyes and gets up from the couch.
"He rejected you? Should I beat him up? Are you heartbroken?" he asks quickly, to which I now shake my eyes.
"No, definitely not and no." I reply. "So... I just... I feel... SOMETHING. I don't know what. I feel something I haven't felt with anyone before, and this kiss confused everything, or maybe not so much the kiss as his response. Because... I wanted to kiss him, but when I did, and he pulled away after a while, I felt like a retard. I asked if he wanted it and..."
"He said yes." He answers for me, smiling oddly. "Charles that's great!" he gets up from the couch.
"That's right, he didn't! Pierre! I don't understand my feelings, and he left me with the text that he wanted me to kiss him which makes everything difficult, because I'd rather have him reject me!" I wring my hands.
"Hey, take it easy!" he puts his hands on my shoulders. "Listen to me, Charles! It's not the end of the world, after all, you don't have to leave right away with your feelings. No one knows from day to day if they want to be in a relationship with someone. Small steps and everything will come on its own and you will know if you love him or not. You know I'll be next to you if things don't work out, and you can always talk to me if you need advice, right?" he asks calmly, smiling.
I nod uncertainly, reciprocating the smile. This man is too good for me. For the rest, every friend of mine is a gift from heaven, because they are too good people. Despite my constant stupid actions, they are beside me and have not run away. I really love them.
"Thank you Pierre, you are right. Just what should I write to him?"
"Nothing, because you have a meeting in twenty minutes at your house." He shrugs his shoulders, showing me my phone from which he wrote a message to Max.
"Oh my God, Pierre! You unwashed rat, what have you done!" I shout panicked, getting up from the couch.
To: Max
Hey, can you come to me in twenty minutes?
From: Max
Sure.
Unthinking conversations are said to be the best, right?