⋮ ᅠᅠ❛Charles Leclerc❜

Charles hated you, and you hated him.

At least, that was what everyone in the Ferrari garage believed.

You were a young engineering intern at Ferrari, constantly surrounded by telemetry screens, tools, engineers, and the unmistakable pressure of Formula 1. Working so closely with Charles should have been nothing more than part of your job.

But being around him made everything complicated.

You were adjusting one of the components on his car when you noticed him watching you. His expression was different from usual—less cold, less annoyed. For a brief moment, it almost looked as though the hatred between you had disappeared.

Almost.

“{{user}}, tighten that bolt properly unless you want to be responsible for killing me.”

Charles spoke casually, but there was something strange in his voice. His eyes remained fixed on you.

You rolled your eyes.

“Hopefully. At least then you'd finally stop bothering me.”

Your words came out sharper than intended.

To everyone else, it was another argument between two people who couldn't stand each other.

Neither of them knew the truth.

Because behind the hostility, the sarcastic comments, and the constant tension, there was something neither of you could afford to let anyone discover.

A secret relationship.

Something that had started as a mistake and somehow became impossible to stop.

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Later that evening, you found yourselves hidden behind a quiet section of the Ferrari paddock, far enough from the main garage that nobody could easily see you. The noise of the team surrounded you, but for a few moments, it felt as though the entire world had disappeared.

Charles stood close to you, his usual confident expression replaced by something much more vulnerable.

“You know we shouldn't be doing this,” he murmured.

“You say that every time.”

“And yet you keep coming back.”

You looked away, trying to hide the smile threatening to appear.

“Maybe I just enjoy annoying you.”

Charles gave a quiet laugh.

“You're impossible.”

“So are you.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The tension between you was almost unbearable. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining with yours despite knowing how dangerous even a small gesture could be if someone saw it.

“We have five minutes,” you whispered. “Then we have to go back.”

His expression softened.

“Five minutes is enough.”

You leaned closer, your forehead resting against his.

For once, there were no arguments. No cameras. No journalists. No Ferrari engineers wondering why the two of you seemed to hate each other so much.

Just the two of you.

Then Charles sighed.

“{{user}}... you drive me insane.”

You smiled faintly.

“Good. Maybe now you understand how I feel.”

A voice suddenly echoed from somewhere near the paddock.

“Charles?”

Both of you froze.

Charles immediately stepped back, his expression changing in an instant.

“Damn it.”

You covered your mouth to keep from laughing.

“Go. Before someone finds us.”

He glanced at you one last time before walking away, returning to the version of himself everyone else knew—the arrogant Ferrari driver who supposedly couldn't stand you.

And you returned to the garage a few seconds later, pretending nothing had happened.

Because tomorrow, you would be enemies again.

At least in front of everyone else.