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Charles looked at himself in the mirror, analyzing his outfit in every tiny detail to see if it would be appropriate for where he was going. And especially with who. Maybe the white shirt was a bit too much, paired with the jacket, after all, they weren’t going to a super fancy place. He undressed for what seemed like the fifth time that evening and briefly looked at himself in the full-length mirror inside the wardrobe; he was fairly thin, maybe a bit too much, and not so muscular even with all the training he had to do. That was a thing he noticed often in other drivers too, so that didn’t worry him so much.
He looked at the time and mentally cursed himself, he was late if he didn’t hurry with finding something to put on. In the end, he settled for a nice colored shirt and some black pants he had forgotten existed, before almost running out of the house and driving to the restaurant always just right on the speed limit.
While he drove to where he would have met his date, he mentally went through the whole menu and what he would be getting to eat, trying to calm the anxiety that always came when he was going to eat outside of his home, where he didn’t know what to expect.
It was a problem that didn’t always exist for him, as a kid he ate a lot of things that other children wouldn’t even be going remotely near, but at one point when he was five or six everything changed. Nobody knew why it was so sudden, but on a random day, he stopped eating a lot of things that he would have otherwise enjoyed. People started to call him “picky”, “spoiled”, and “troubled” as if he enjoyed not being able to eat things that he genuinely thought he would have liked.
Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice that he had arrived, parking the car in the first spot he saw and hurriedly going to the entrance where Max was already waiting for him.
«Hi,» Charles said, doing a little awkward wave, «How are you?»
Max smiled back, gesturing for Charles to follow him while greeting him. «I’m fine, you?»
«Yeah, fine.» He shrugged, struggling a bit to stay focused on the conversation while his anxiety rose. Why did they have to do this whole “first date” thing for dinner? Couldn’t they have just gone for a walk together or something like that? Of course not, Max had suggested dinner in a place he knew and Charles was too far gone simply for the fact that Max Verstappen had asked him out to actually consider what the Dutch said.
«Charles, you okay?» Max asked, stopping his train of thoughts. «You seemed a little bit lost, is everything fine?»
The Monegasque quickly nodded, with an embarrassed smile. «Sorry, out of the track I get distracted pretty easily. What were you saying?» He was already fucking everything up, Max surely wouldn’t want to go on a date with someone like him. It had been an error to accept, he should have said no and avoided the awkward silence that was now between the two drivers.
«It’s okay, don’t worry. I was just complimenting you for Monaco, it must have been a relief to finally win your home race.» Max smiled, taking the menu and starting to look at it.
«Oh, yeah, it’s really been a relief to finally be on the top step of the podium there,» he replied with a smile before picking up the menu as if he hadn’t already chosen before he was even out of the door.
The only thing he hadn’t considered was the effect Max had on him, the way he looked at him, and how he made his head spin with those beautiful eyes. When they got their plates, he realized the massive error he had made: he was so caught up in the conversation with Max that he hadn’t paid enough attention when he ordered and forgot to ask to not put anything on the side.
Now, in front of him stood a steak with a lot of sauces on top and lots of unwanted spices and sides. He froze, mentally cursing himself and trying not to break down in front of Max. He could have handled the sides, they were barely touching the steak, but the sauces were just too much.
«You okay Charles? Is something wrong?» Max asked, smiling softly, and Charles thought that if he could, he would have died right then and there.
«I thought I asked for no sauces, I don’t really like them.» He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to keep his anxiety at bay. It wasn’t what he had planned, he didn’t want this to go like that and it wasn’t what he was picturing for his first date with Max fucking Verstappen.
«We could ask them to redo it if you want.» He was too nice for his own good, sometimes, and the Monegasque didn’t want to be seen as an asshole or a picky eater so he tried to downplay it.
He shook his head, «No, don’t worry. I could just wipe them away with the bread, it’s no problem.» Inside, he was cringing hard, his brain going 200 miles per hour as he tried to think of what to do. Wiping them off would seem like the right solution to most people, but he was crying internally at the thought of the flavor of the sauces staying on the steak. He was oh so sure that he would still be able to taste them, even after taking them off, and he was trying his best to deal with it in an adult way.
A way that definitely didn’t include locking himself in the bathroom after the first bite of food, unable to keep eating without bursting into tears. He didn’t know why he was like that, he didn’t want to be like that. He wanted to be able to try new foods, to go to the restaurant without having to worry about checking the menu in advance and asking for things to be taken off his plate. He wanted to be normal, in that, since he knew he wasn’t normal in so many ways.
He wanted to be able to go on a date and not have said date knocking on the door of the bathroom after he quite literally ran away.
«Char? You okay?» And he knew that wasn’t the right time and place but, oh my God the way he pronounced his name was just beautiful.
«Yeah, sorry, I’m feeling a bit sick. Probably a stomach bug, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin this,» he said, all in one breath, while furiously wiping away his tears and checking in his front camera if he looked presentable. He looked like he had just thrown up, pale and messy, but that only helped with his “stomach bug” story.
Max was standing outside of the bathroom, looking a bit worried. «You sure you’re fine now? You look a bit sick, maybe we should go home». He softly smiled, taking Charles’ hands in his.
And he felt like he was melting from just that simple and innocent touch, smiling back. «No, don’t worry, we can still stay here and finish eating,» he forced himself to say, not wanting to ruin everything.
Max asked again if he was sure and while he wanted to scream no, I’m not fine, nothing’s fine, I want to go home and eat some biscuits he once again forced himself to keep saying that I’m fine, don’t worry, it’s okay.
He internally cringed once he sat back down in front of his now cold plate, his hands lightly shaking as he took the fork and started to eat. He felt like crying after each bite, the lingering flavor of the sauces that once were there making him feel sick and trying not to gag. He felt awful, forcing down bite after bite and trying to keep smiling and talking with Max. He knew he was up for a horrible night of eating safe foods until he physically couldn’t anymore and then trying to throw them back up.
The Dutch probably could see that he wasn’t feeling good at all, the concerned expression never leaving his face during the whole time they were eating. «Do you want to come to my place?» he asked kindly once they had paid - Charles insisted on paying for the whole dinner -.
«Maybe mine is better, it’s closer and if you’re up to it we could even walk, it’s about ten minutes,» the Monegasque suggested, loving the idea of spending more time with Max but at the same time hating the fact that he wouldn’t be able to eat what he wanted to eat without seeming childish. Pig. His mind suggested. That’s the word you’re looking for.
He took a deep breath while Max accepted his suggestion and they started to walk to Charles’ house. During the walk, Charles was pretty much lost in his thoughts and he was trying to listen to Max, really, but his thoughts wouldn’t let him.
You’re not even able to have dinner like a normal person. You can’t eat anything that isn’t a safe food without crying and being a baby, do you remember what Lorenzo said when you first started to work on this? You seem a five years old, crying about some sauces on a steak. You’re so stupid. Stupid. Why aren’t you normal, like Max? He doesn’t have these problems. Nobody on the grid has these problems. You’re the only one that’s so stupid and childish that he can’t handle eating a steak that had some sauces on it.
Charles was trying so bad to close his mind like his therapist had taught him, but he just couldn’t and he let the other part of his mind wander freely, contrasting thoughts all in his mind at the same time.
It’s okay, at least you ate it. It was hard and you didn’t like it, but you ate it. Then at home we have Mama’s cookies, you can eat a couple of those so you don’t taste the sauces anymore. You did so well.
You’re not normal.
At least you tried.
You’re childish.
You managed to eat it.
You’re so stupid.
You’ve been good.
You ruined everything.
Before he knew it he was finding it difficult to breathe, trying so hard to get those thoughts out of his mind. It was so hard, he couldn’t understand how he could think so good and so bad of himself at the same time. How he could tell himself you did good and you ruined everything and believe them both at the same time.
«Hey, Char, it’s okay. Breathe, with me,» Max said, taking his hands and trying to get Charles to look at him, «What’s happening, love, can you tell me?»
He was so calm and so worried at the same time, his eyes showed just how concerned he was and it pained Charles so much that he could burst into tears just by looking at him. Max is being so nice and all you’ve done is ruin this date, he probably won’t talk to you ever again. He squeezed Max’s hands, trying not to let his own hands shake, and tried to take some deep breaths, to calm his racing thoughts and sudden spike of anxiety.
«Char, please, look at me. Everything’s fine, what’s happening?» The Dutch asked again, gently cupping his cheek with one hand and placing the other on Charles’ chest. «I’m here, can you hear me? Take deep breaths for me, love.»
He’s still calling you love even after everything you’ve done wrong this evening, don’t you feel bad for taking advantage of him like this?
Charles shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and softly sobbed. A part of him believed those thoughts with everything he had, another was telling him that it isn't true, you did good. You’re not taking advantage of him, he chose to go on a date with you and he chose to help you.
«Can… can we just go home? It’s not far,» he managed to say between harsh breaths and soft sobs, trying to hide his face from Max’s gaze.
«Of course, mijn liefje, just show me the way okay?» Charles wanted to bury himself right then and there, Max was just too nice to him and you don’t deserve this, you deserve to be alone. You always ruin everything.
The Monegasque pointed vaguely to the building where he lived, while Max held him close and slowly walked with him to his house.
He scrambled to get the keys and opened the door, a bit calmer thanks to Max’s touch on his waist, letting him into the apartment.
«Here we are love, now can you tell me what’s happening?» Charles pretended he didn’t hear him, just going to the kitchen to get a glass of water and the box with his mother’s cookies. You are so rude, Max is genuinely worried for you and you just ignore him. You’re so selfish, just thinking about yourself.
Just as he was starting to be able to calm down and breathe normally again, thanks to both Max and the familiarity of his house, the voices started to go around his head again. He gripped tightly the cookie box and took a deep breath, before going back to where Max was waiting for him.
«Sorry for that, you want something to drink or to eat?» He asked, as if nothing happened, «My mother brought me some of her delicious cookies if you want to try them, and I have lots of drinks you can choose from.»
Max sighed, somewhat expecting Charles to try and downplay everything as always. «Can we just talk a bit? It’s pretty important,» he asked with a little smile, gesturing to the couch.
«Yeah, sure, is everything fine?»
«Char… I should be the one asking you, what happened? Did I do something wrong?» Charles was about to actually start to hit himself, Max is worried that he did something wrong when this is all your fault. All your fault, because you can’t even eat normally.
«You did nothing wrong, believe me, you’ve been the best company I could have hoped for. It’s nothing really,» he said, trying to come up on the spot for something to cover his slip-up, «Just memories. It still happens sometimes, walking around Monaco.»
«What, like flashbacks?» Max was clearly very confused, looking at him strangely, «And you seemed a bit off for the whole evening, are you sure you’re fine?»
Charles couldn’t bring himself to lie again to his face, his beautiful face and those beautiful eyes that were looking at him full of concern. «I… I have an eating disorder.» He managed to blurt out, staring at the floor as if he was waiting to be scolded.
«An eating disorder?» Max repeated, his concern only growing, «What… what do you mean?»
«I have avoidant restrictive food intake disorder, ARFID, even if for me it is mostly the avoidant part,» Charles explained, his voice low.
«So like… you try to avoid some foods and stuff like that?»
Charles sighed, shaking his head. «Not really. I have trouble with a lot of foods because of texture, smell, or simply appearance, and I have like a not-so-small, in my case, list of safe foods that I manage to eat with no trouble at all,» he tried to get Max to understand it without downplaying it, because even if lots of people just said he was picky and spoiled they didn’t know how much he was actually struggling.
Max listened in silence, trying to wrap his mind around what he was saying. «You… don’t like much food?» he asked, trying to understand.
«Yes and no. I struggle with trying new foods, it gives me a lot of anxiety and it’s really hard for me. At the restaurant, I forgot to ask to take sauces and these things off my plate so it made it really hard to eat,» he tried to explain himself a bit better, without looking at Max and fidgeting nonstop with his shirt.
«We could have asked to redo it, but I’m proud of you for eating it even while you were struggling.» Max smiled, making Charles’ heart melt and fill with hope. «I’ll be honest I can't really understand the full extent of it and what it means for you, but if you want I’ll be willing to understand it more and help you with it if I can.»
That left Charles speechless, the voices in his mind also stopping and leaving a complete silence inside and out for some seconds. «For real?» he managed to get out, looking directly at him for the first time since they left the restaurant.
«Of course liefje, if you’re willing to let me help you I’ll do it happily.» The smile on his face only helped to melt Charles’ heart a little bit more, soft and genuinely caring, and the Monegasque found himself once again speechless.
«I… I don’t know what to say,» he mumbled «That’s not really the reaction I’m used to receiving when I tell people about this…»
«I can imagine, but there is a reason I asked you out.» Max just kept smiling, trying to get Charles to open up a little bit more «And that reason also means that I’m more than willing to help you when needed.»
He really thought he was about to melt on the couch, sliding a little bit closer to his supposed “rival” or “enemy”. «It’s not easy to deal with…» he said «My older brother tried to help me with it once but he surrendered after a couple of days, seeing my meltdowns…»
«I know it’s not easy, it never is with eating disorders.» Max wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug, «But now you’re stuck with me and I will not give up.»
«Thank you,» he mumbled weakly, putting his head on Max’s chest and relaxing, listening to the other’s heartbeat, «It really means a lot to me, you know?»
«I know, Char, I know.» He placed a soft kiss on the top of his head, smiling. «I would do anything for you, you know that right?»
«Not until now, you don’t make it very clear,» Charles protested, smiling back at him.
«Text Carlos, or Lando, or Sergio, or anyone on the grid for what matters, and they’ll tell you how oblivious you were.» Max giggled «Everyone noticed except from you.»
«Well, might I say, you really aren’t that bright yourself. I’ve been trying to make you notice for like the past two years or so.» The Monegasque smiled and placed a little kiss on his cheek, like a little kid.
Max sighed, laughing «Well, at least now we both know.»
«Yeah, now we do. Wanna stay the night?»
«Perfect.»