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Carlos' hands are smooth, it's soft to hold. His hands are warm and reassuring and it felt like the world was going to heal. His hands were smooth, and Charles Leclerc was the first one to know that.
The 2025 Japan Grand Prix has gone well. The race was over and everyone began to retreat to their perspective garage. Charles did infact head to the Ferrari garage only to sneak away, tucked in the quietest lounge of area. How it was quiet and peaceful is entirely unknown considering it's a race weekend but Charles decides not to dwell on it.
He sits at the couch, pulling his race suits down to his waist. He sits and think. He thinks about Jules— he thought about Jules for the whole day. Japan has this certain pull for Charles, he reminisces about what he lost and drown himself on the possibility of what could've happen if fate was just kind enough. Miserable, cluttered and uncomfortable. He's trapped in an endless cycle of yearning and remembering. He lives in the very own prison he created out of grieving.
He wallows on his melancholy when soft steps are heard. "Hey," Carlos said with a soft smile and an awkward frame. Charles snapped out of his mind, a little joy blooming inside his heart. "How did you know I was here?" Charles asked his very own former teammate. "You're always here," Carlos plops down beside Charles and stares at him before decidely taking off the towel in his neck and deciding to wipe the sweat off Charles' face. "I notice you, always. Even at times you tell yourself it's okay when I know your rotting inside," he gently wipes the uncomfortable sweat off Charles' neck and he can only do nothing except stare at Carlos, "I'm sorry, cariño. I never grasped your emotions. I have always wanted to just hug you, even if it's infront of everyone." Charles hated being vulnerable infront of everyone, but Carlos was different. Carlos was a different soul— he was a pillar of trust. Not that he didn't hate being vulnerable to Carlos, he was never vulnerable to begin with. He was just himself and with that comes along his battles inside his mind and truths he has denied. Charles let loose of his posture, he shuffles trying to close the distance between them. He shifts facing Carlos with his head down as tears threatened to fall. Carlos hugs his lover. He holds his heart infront of him and clutches it tight. The heaving and quiet breathes echoed inside the lounge and hearts beated in a dancing rhythm that you would know that they are made for eachother. Ca