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Charles couldn’t help the frown on his face. An almost perfect race had turned into a near disaster. An almost perfect car. Perfect all the way until the end. Perfect until the engine turned his whole race into a near disaster. Not quite a winner yet not quite a loser. It was all so bittersweet.
In the car it had all felt like too much. When he felt the engine breaking, he just wanted to scream. When the speed was falling, he just wanted to cry. When he heard about the safety car and how they would cross the finish line behind it, he felt like shedding tears of joy. After getting out of the car however he just felt numb.
***
He was so carried away by his thoughts, that he hadn’t even noticed arriving to his driver’s room. As he opened the door, he was greeted with a mop of blond hair hanging off the armrest of a couch. “I thought you’d be at the hotel by now.”
“I couldn’t just leave you. Not after that.” Mick said. “How are you feeling?”
“I dunno.” Charles could feel tears in his eyes. He tried to blink them away but to no avail and it wasn’t long before he could feel himself sniffle. He heard a small creak as Mick stood up from the couch and before long, he could feel a pair of arms wrapping around him and being pulled against Mick’s chest.
“Oh Charles.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. It was just bad luck. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I just wanted to make it. For Jules… and dad…”
“Shhh. I know. Trust me, I know.”
“I’m sorry. You just had your first race on formula two. You should be out celebrating and not having to listen to my whining.”
“Says the guy who finished third in a Formula one race. It is you we should be celebrating, meine liebe.” With that Mick pushed him away from him just enough so that he could cup his cheek in his hand. “Ich liebe dich.”
“Je t’aime aussi.”