you called * cl16
you called, so he came.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: none.
notes: well, now i'm in the mood to write this bc i just found out my ex-boyfriend now has a girlfriend so i aM PULLING THIS OUT FROM THE DEEPEST PART OF MY SADNESS AND GUT
(i quit drinking) // (to forget you) // (you called)
charles wasn't actually going to come. when you called him, you were slurring and stumbling over your words about how you wanted to see him. he told you it wasn't a great idea until you started full-out sobbing on the phone about how much you missed him.
it was then shortly cut to max scolding you in the background. something about how he already told you not to call charles, but you still did. then max took the phone from you and told him off sternly that he better not show up.
yet, here you are in the passenger seat of his car, buckling your seatbelt on.
carmen was more than shocked to see him at max's front door, but max blew his head off when he walked by and caught a glimpse of him.
but you managed to convince him to let you go, promising the man that you would send him a text message when you got back to your hotel.
"thank you for coming," you say barely above a whisper. your eyes are set on straight the car parked in front of his.
he sees your thumbs fumbling with one another. "of course," he answers, "you called."
you turn your head to the window, completely away from him. being in this car only brought back so many memories. you're a lot more sober than you were about 20 minutes ago, after you'd puked in the toilet after a quick sob.
being in this car gave you flashbacks to when you'd be driving around on the way to parties or the bar with the grid boys. it was in this car that he'd driven you around monte-carlo for your first date, ending up by the bay into a private yacht for dinner.
“but why?” you turn back to him, your doe eyes piercing into his. they’re slightly red from the crying, your makeup has been taken off (courtesy of max after you cried and puked), and your lips swollen. “why did you come?”
charles can’t find it in himself to start driving. he turns his head, avoiding your gaze. “i wanted to come see you.” and very softly, he adds, “i missed you.”
you freeze. you were expecting numerous types of responses but him admitting that he missed you was not one of them.
“what?” there's an expression on your face that he cannot fathom at all.
"i said i missed you," he says slower. though, with most of your relationship spent in the presence of alcohol, he knows pretty well that you're not even drunk anymore. you're just using it as an excuse,.
you stare at him, mouth gaping wordlessly at him. you scoff audibly and click your tongue. "you miss me?" you shriek, eyebrows furrowing at his confession. “you miss me? are you fucking serious right now, charles?”
“yeah?” he raises an eyebrow, genuinely not knowing how to respond to you.
"charles, we broke up." there's a sadness in your eye that made his chest ache. he knows very well that you did, in fact, break up.
"why are you saying that like it was a one-sided thing? you also agreed it's better off we just part ways." charles' growing frustration is very evident on his face, and it's still clear to you. "i didn't break up with you."
you still know when he's slowly getting irritated, or which expressions told you what's on his mind.
"because i saw you!" you throw your head back, running your hands through your hair as you tug on them roughly. "i watched you distance yourself from me, charles! the way you withdrew in the last couple of days we spent together, and apart. you called lesser, you stopped inviting me to your parties with friends, and you couldn't even look me in the eye anymore."
charles had no idea that this was what went through your mind. to him, he stopped inviting you to parties because he valued the fact that you hated waking up in the morning with a hangover. you had mentioned that it made getting up so much harder.
he started calling you lesser when you were apart because he was just simply busy. but, he did send you messages that he thought were enough to reassure you of the state of your fresh relationship.
not being able to look you in the eye had a simple explanation - he's fallen in love with you and has been afraid to admit it. after you spent a week apart busy with different projects and workload, he had picked you up from the airport for a race weekend and he felt it in his chest. he was just afraid to say it out loud for the fear that you would be too overwhelmed.
"that's not true." charles shakes his head. he turns his body away from you, looking ahead.
"then what's the truth?" you probe, lifting your shoulders to edge him for an answer. there is no way that you spent your days sulking over a man who missed you but never reached out.
but who are you to speak? you didn't either.
charles opens his mouth but quickly closes it. he shakes his head again. he contemplates the risk of saying it to you. you'd called him drunk, not expecting him to even pick up; it should be his turn to risk his feelings and possible embarrassment.
"i got scared," he says slowly, turning his head to look at you, "because i realised i love you. but i was just so scared to tell you. don't ask me why. i wanted to have you without the alcohol, that's why i didn't ask you out anymore."
"you can't just lie your way out of this, charles!" you scold with the roll of your eyes.
he rolls his eyes, finally starting up the car for a drive. "i'm going to drive you home now."
"yeah, maybe you should." you fold your arms over your chest and turn your head towards the window. your hotel isn't far, but it's quite a drive.
charles didn't even have the time to turn some music on, so you had sat in his car together in silence. the sound of the engine is the only thing that occupies the deafening stillness in the air.
you'd spent days locking yourself away, the thoughts of charles hopping on to someone else eating hours of your day away, taking up most of your breath as you'd sit on the floor crying with your cat in your arms.
to the point your mother had to remind you that charles is just a boy.
"do you mean it?" you break the silence as he turns into the lobby of the hotel. your eyes are glued to the window still with tears filling it to the brim.
you hear him sigh then shift in his seat. "of course, i do. i spent every waking moment of the past 6 weeks thinking of you and missing you. i hated every second i spent without you," he rambles. he takes a deep breath as the car comes to a slow stop. "i should have called you. i'm sorry."
you press your lips together. you turn to face him, but his stare is right ahead as he chews on the inside of his cheek. "i didn't think you liked me without the alcohol. i'm not as fun without it."
charles turns quickly to face you, instinctively grabbing your hands into his. "don't even say that," he pouts his lips out, "you are an even better person without it. please don't say that."
you close your eyes, knowing you might regret the decision in the morning. you open them and meet his blue eyes, a small smile stretching your lips.
what's the worst that could happen? if he meant his words, everything should be alright.
"do you want to have some coffee upstairs?"
you see relief wash over his face. with a deep breath, he exhales, his body melts into his car seat. he leans his head on his headrest. "as long as you promise me there's no alcohol."
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