Max
The first race weekend on the new contract passed normally. I mean our return. It was just like any other with the addition of questions about our relationship and the fact that we could talk normally because everyone knows about us anyway. We didn't kiss or hug, because that's not our style. Why should everyone look at it. We prefer to keep some of the relationship to ourselves.
A lot of time has passed since then. We have managed to drive another two races and I left Monaco a week ago and our only contact is FaceTime calls for short minutes over the time difference. Charles has meetings with Ferrari, and I help my sister, who broke two legs by falling on a bicycle. Cripple. I was supposed to stay with her for another week until the next race, but Charles has a birthday today and she told me to come back. Well, and I missed it. Since we've been together this is our first extended separation. Of course, behind his back, I asked all our friends to help me prepare, because I wouldn't be able to do it myself, being in another country. Now I just get off the plane and walk toward the car where Daniel and Pierre are sitting.
I sit forward, putting my bag under my feet, as Pierre sits slouched in the back. I fasten my belt, looking at the two of them, frowning my eyebrows.
"It's nice to see you, too." I force a smile.
"He prefers you to me." Pierre says.
"Because he's my friend." Daniel replies to him.
"What children." I sigh brokenly. "Can we go?" I add, and Daniel suddenly grabs my hair and pulls me by it. "You whore!" I shout, pushing his hand away.
"You cut your hair!" he says loudly, and Pierre suddenly forgets about the argument and moves closer to look at me.
"I?"
"And you look worse." croaks my friend. "I thought that since Charles prefers you longer and uncombed it's the kind you'll have all your life." He adds amused.
"It's just hair, Daniel. It will grow back." I roll my eyes as the boy pulls out of the parking lot. I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes tiredly.
"Are you okay?" asks Pierre, so I glance at him.
"Yeah, I just feel bad." I say, not entirely honestly.
"Max, we've known each other for so many years that I know when you're skirting the whole truth." Daniel stops at a red light and glances in my direction.
"I don't know, I haven't had time to go to the doctors. I had a fever this morning, and I've been vomiting all night, all my muscles ache like I ran a marathon, and I feel like my head is going to explode."
"I?" Daniel glances at me, turning right at the intersection.
"And nothing."
"Max, damn it!" I gasp when Ricciardo raises his voice, because he never does.
"And I fainted several times." I mumble under my breath, not wanting to talk about it. They start to worry unnecessarily, and I'm fine.
"Several? You mean how many?" Pierre leans forward again, looking in my direction.
"I don't know. A few." I tighten my lips into a thin line. "If I don't get over it, I'll go to the doctor but not today. I'm not going to spoil Charles' birthday and..."
"You'll spoil it by fainting in front of him and ending up in the hospital." Pierre interjects in my sentence, and Daniel nods to him. "But if you think it won't happen, that's fine."
"But you're supposed to go tomorrow." adds my friend, stopping in front of Leclerc's house.
"I'll go, I promise." I smile and get out. I take my bag, close the door and walk toward the front door.
Suddenly I spot a woman in the distance selling flowers and a plan is already forming in my head. I walk quickly toward it with a wide smile that masks the pain in my head and muscles.
"Good morning, I would like a bouquet of.... How many white roses do you have?" I ask, and the woman turns around behind me.
"Fifty." She replies with a smile.
"Great, please."
"How many?" she turns toward them, slowly taking out one by one.
"All of them."
The woman freezes, looking at me in shock. To my eye, she's about seventy years old, so shopping with her is the perfect idea to support her small business.
"Oh my... It will be a lot of money..." She says quietly, probably continuing in disbelief.
"Money doesn't play a role."
The woman smiles at my words, not because she'll make money, but because someone these days buys a bouquet for someone without paying attention to the budget, and I understand that not everyone can afford it, because not everyone has as good a life as I do, but at least a small bouquet. I know people who can't give their other half a single rose, because a few dollars for which they will buy almost nothing is a fortune for them.
After several minutes, the woman finishes the bouquet and hands it to me as I put the money on the counter.
"On what occasion?" she asks curiously.
"It's his birthday." I say with a smile.
"In that case, have a nice day and happy birthday."
I thank her and finally go home. It's weird, but this isn't Charles' house anymore. Means is. But I've also been officially living here since a memorable dinner at Charles' mom's house, where it ended with my boyfriend getting booed and drunk by Arthur, who missed almost every turn. Charles spent more than an hour in the bathroom with me, vomiting up what he ate and drank. I open the door, with the key Pierre gave me, because he took Charles' spare, on the pretext of coming to his house at night to sleep on the couch after the party, since his mother is currently in his apartment. I quietly put my bag aside and take off my shoes. I look around on my way to the bedroom. The silence indicates his absence or that he is still asleep and when I enter the bedroom, I find the brunet sleeping in the middle of the large bed. His strands of hair fall on his face, his lips parted and his eyes closed. He breathes quietly, hugging his pillow. I smile broadly, looking at him a moment.
I know from Pierre that without me, his nightmares have returned again, making him unable to sleep and he has recently gone back to taking pills. After his birthday I have to take him to the doctor. Maybe he doesn't need to take pills just needs to talk to a psychologist.
I put the flowers on the carpet so he doesn't crush them on the bed and go to the kitchen to make him breakfast. With the way I feel, it's not an easy task, but I can't let go of his birthday today. It's possible that I just got a cold and it will pass in a short time.
I make waffles, which are first topped with sauce and then, to the measure of my skills, decorated with whipped cream and fruit. It's not the prettiest, but it's also not so tragic that he doesn't want to eat it. I carry the plate to the bedroom and put it on the bedside table next to the water bottle. I lean over the boy and kiss his face with a smile, at which he mumbles something under his breath and wants to move away, but when I put my hands on his hips, preventing him from doing so, he lazily opens his eyes.
"Max?" he asks quietly, not understanding what's going on. He looks at me sleepily as I move away. "What are you doing here?" he rises to sit down.
"Happy birthday." I hand him the flowers. He rolls his eyes, looking once at them and once at me. He looks funny as he sits drowsy and confused with lots of flowers next to him.
"Thank you." He smiles, putting the bouquet aside and moves closer to me, hugging me. I clench my jaws, feeling that awful pain again, and embrace the boy, who starts kissing my neck.
"Eat and I'll take you somewhere." I laugh, pushing him away. He looks at me displeased. "I know it's been a long time since we've seen each other, but I promise we'll make up for that time, just not now." I let go of his eyes.
"You continue to be as stupid as you were." He sighs theatrically, taking a plate of food. "Thank you." he adds, taking the first bite.
"I wonder if they came out edible."
"What?" he freezes with his mouth open and the waffle in his hand almost at his lips.
"Just kidding, eat. Enjoy." I sit down on the bed next to him and lean my head against his shoulder. I close my eyes, trying really hard not to show him that something is wrong. I know he will act like Pierre and Daniel, which will spoil his birthday.
After a moment I hear the boy put down his plate and comb my hair, so I open my eyes and glance at him.
"Why so short." He grins, looking at my hair.
"They were even shorter." my words cause him to move away from me. He looks at me with his eyes bulging, and I don't know what's going on.
"You cut them because you didn't want me to touch them?" he asks suddenly frightened.
"What?"
"Well, that's what I read in some book. A man cut his hair so that a woman wouldn't touch it for him, because he didn't like it."
"You can touch my hair, Charlie. It's even advisable. I love it when you do that." I say seriously, to which he sighs with relief. "And I cut it because Luka accidentally spilled a glue on it." I add amused.
"Oh..." He says confusedly, scratching the back of his neck. "I'll go get dressed." He adds and goes to the dressing room.
After a while, he returns dressed in comfortable clothes and holding his phone and sunglasses in his hand. I get out of bed and we both move toward the exit of the house. As we put on our shoes, Charles suddenly glances at me suspiciously.
"There was no mom at Pierre's?" he asks, though it's more of a statement.
"It wasn't." I smile, letting it pass in the doorway. We get into my car, and Charles immediately starts changing songs as I pull out of the parking lot. "I missed you." I say frankly, glancing at him every now and then.
"I followed you too. Mom was at my place and asked about you. Before I could respond, she started screaming because she thought we had parted ways. Do you understand? She started yelling at me for letting you go!" he says indignantly.
"Because she loves me." I say proudly, driving onto the highway.
The next half hour we drive in complete silence. We listen to the songs and screams of Charles, who only knows the refrain of each song, so that's all he sings. We finally arrive at the lake, which I found by chance some time ago on Instagram and immediately wrote down the location. It is on a hill, so you can see nice views of the city and the water beyond. I park the car and we both get out.
"I forgot my bathing suit." He says suddenly.
"But I don't." I smile, at which he looks at me like I'm an idiot. "I took yours, too." I add amused, moving toward the lake with my bag on my shoulder. The brunet walks beside me, admiring the views around him. He continues to smile, hugging my shoulder suddenly. I glance at him, realizing how much I've missed him.
"This is the best birthday." he says sincerely.
"I have a gift." I stand on the wooden footbridge, and Charles stands across from me. He looks at me curiously as I take the gift out of the bag and hand it to him. "Happy birthday." I add with a smile. I didn't have much time to buy a gift and didn't know what I could give him since he has everything and can buy anything.
I decided to give something that would be so ours. Maybe it's childish and embarrassing, but an amused Charles pulls out of the box first my Red Bull T-shirt with a big one on the back.
"Should I wear this T-shirt?" he laughs.
"Of course. Preferably during the races." I wink at him.
Suddenly Charles notices a small box and takes it out as well. I take the box that contained all this and watch as he slowly opens the box. Inside is a silver, man-made chain with a small rose attached to it in the middle. In addition, there is a small engraving with my initials on the clasp. Charles watches it delightedly, as if he got at least a cup for the world championship. Suddenly he hands it to me and turns his back. Amused, I clasp it and let go, and the chain falls around his neck. He tucks it under his shirt, so that the rose now sits at collarbone height, if not lower.
"Thank you, really." He says quietly and moves closer to me.
I don't manage to respond to anything, because he grabs my cheeks and pulls me close. With all his strength, he presses his lips to mine. When I taste his warm lips, everything comes back. Emotions, feelings and memories. Memories of lips I haven't kissed in so long. I love this. His closeness. His kiss is like a ship for a drowning man. Tastes of freedom and peace. Something even different. A better one. He is my escape from everything and everyone. With him I forget about the bad moments, because I have the best man in the world next to me.
I don't even know at what point I closed my eyes and gave myself to this moment. I let feelings and emotions I had almost forgotten about flood me again after this separation. His pleasant smell, how close we are to each other, his torso against mine, his hands on my neck and hair on my occiput. He kisses me powerfully and greedily, without playing with gentleness. I don't feel bad anymore. I don't remember thinking about the headache or what had been going on for the last while. Now kissing Charles, I have the whole world far away.
I tighten my hands on his hips, wanting to push him even closer, but suddenly he moves away, pushing me away, making only me fall into the water. I dive all the way in, feeling my warm body collide with the cold water. I quickly swim to the surface, gasping for air. I look at the laughing boy, swimming in the almost middle of the lake still confused by the situation. After a while, I recover and start swimming towards him to get my revenge. He sees this and starts amusedly running off toward the parking lot, though he knows I'll catch him anyway.