Archive of Our Own ^beta

Closing time was fast approaching when Y/N realized she'd barely eaten anything in the last few hours, too busy not only serving customers but also organizing and restocking all the medications that had arrived that afternoon. Through the windows, she could see the stars and the bright moon illuminating the Italian night, accompanied by the sounds of the breeze drifting in through the still-open window.

The nights were usually quiet at the pharmacy, unless someone arrived looking for medicine for an emergency. Not many people came to its services at night in the town where she lived, and while the money was welcome to Y/N, she appreciated being able to enjoy the peace and quiet while she arranged the boxes.

The past few days had been a bit… complicated, strange perhaps, although she supposed it was normal with a pregnancy that was already nine and a half months along, waiting for the day the baby would want to come out and see the world. Her back was killing her as she moved from one hallway to another, and don't even get her started on her feet, which were so swollen that none of her shoes fit properly.

Putting down the last pack of baby wipes, the young woman glanced at the clock on the far side of the television screen. In the background, she could hear the murmur of the news. One hour, one hour, and she could go home and call it a day. One hour to return to the small home she had found in the picturesque Italian village, to reheat some of the food she had prepared at the beginning of the week, and to put her feet up on a pillow, praying that the swelling would subside.

A groan escaped her lips as she tried to get up from the small stool where she was sitting, a sharp pain shooting through her abdomen. A contraction, she was used to them. Since entering her third trimester she hadn't stopped having them, although this last one had been a little more intense than usual.

It was then that she heard the sound of the bell indicating that someone had just entered, so she turned around ignoring the discomfort in her stomach, a tired but kind smile forming on her lips.

“Good evening, how can I…” her words stopped when she saw who was standing in front of her.

The young man wore his jacket hood up and a face mask, which caught Y/N's attention, especially those green eyes peeking out from above the mask, which seemed to glow slightly under the lights. Despite his appearance, the newcomer carried himself with an air of confidence and self-assurance, as if he were already used to the stares of those around him, as if the attention didn't bother him, as if it were an old friend.

Clearing his throat, he took another step toward her. “Good evening,” he replied, taking the opportunity to remove the mask that covered most of his face. It was then that Y/N made the connection. She knew she had seen those eyes before, in photos and videos, in images taken in the paddock that was a few kilometers away from where they were at that moment.

Y/N blinked a couple of times, making sure she was really seeing what was in front of her, or rather, who was in front of her. Good heavens.

Charles Leclerc.

The famous Formula 1 driver, a vital member of the Ferrari team, was standing in front of her, in her pharmacy, just a few minutes before the clock struck midnight.

“Hello,” she murmured, a little confused by the pilot’s presence. She was fairly certain that Maranello wasn’t near her pharmacy, and she was also fairly certain that there were much larger pharmacies, even from well-known chains, near where he was probably staying. “How… How can I help you?”

A friendly smile was the only response she received to her question. Charles. Charles Leclerc, Y/N repeated in her head, he smiled slightly amused despite the exhaustion evident in his eyes, and the young woman recalled seeing on the news that the Ferrari team was in Italy conducting some tests prior to the upcoming new season, and from the journalists' comments, the results hadn't exactly been the best.

“I need something for my headache, please. Something relatively strong, something that will actually work.” He explained, pulling down the hood of his jacket and allowing Y/N’s eyes to take in his slightly disheveled and somewhat damp hair, he had probably taken a shower not too long before, judging by that.

Y/N quickly nodded, indicating that he should follow her to the other aisle of the store with the intention of showing him the brands she had and which one she recommended according to what he had told her, another whimper escaping from her lips when a new contraction made its appearance in her belly, her gaze falling on her stomach as did Charles's gaze.

“Are you alright?” Charles inquired, his tone of voice revealing concern, stopping next to Y/N who was resting a hand on her belly, delicately tracing small circles.

“Me? Yes, fine, very well,” she said almost with a sigh. It was a lie, she wasn't feeling well at all. That contraction had hurt much more than usual, to the point of almost stealing her breath, but she decided to ignore it and continue with her work. Her gaze wandered along the lower part of the aisle until she found what she was looking for. She carefully bent down to pick up the box. “I think these pills will be best for that. They're a little stronger and might make you a little sleepy, but they'll really help…”

Her words stopped abruptly when an intense pain appeared in her abdomen as she tried to stand up once more, as if she had been stabbed in the lower part of her belly, as if she had been struck by lightning.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Do you… Do you want to sit down?” Charles’s gaze fell on the small stool Y/N had been using earlier, he made a move to approach her when he felt her gasp. Confused and worried, he turned his face once more to look at her, noticing her surprised expression, and looked down to see what she was looking at.

Her pants had gotten wet and a small puddle had formed under her shoes.

“No, no, no,” the young woman murmured, surprise giving way to confusion and fear, her eyes darkened by dread. “It can’t be,” she added, still staring at the puddle beneath her feet, feeling her heart race and fear cloud her thoughts. Y/N knew that sooner or later this moment would arrive and that she would have to handle everything alone. She had spent entire nights thinking about how she would have to act, what she should do when the time came to welcome her baby. But it was one thing to think about it and analyze it from the comfort of her bed with her feet up under many pillows and a smoothie in her hands, and quite another to think about it and realize it when her water had just broken in the middle of the pharmacy, at almost midnight, with a customer beside her.

And not just any customer. Charles Leclerc had just seen her water break. Charles Leclerc was looking at her, completely worried, probably just as surprised, or even more so, than she was.

“My water just broke,” she murmured, though it was already quite obvious what had happened. “I’m sorry, God, I’m sorry you had to see this, I… You can take the pills for free, as an apology for having to see this,” she added, speaking so quickly that Charles could barely understand what she was saying, revealing an accent that made it clear Italian wasn’t her mother tongue.

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize,” Charles assured her in a firm but gentle tone, setting the box of pills aside, because his priority had clearly shifted. “Do you think you can sit down?” he asked, his gaze fixed on her, noticing her face contorting in an expression of pain. Y/N shook her head with difficulty, her mind clouded by the waves of intense pain she was experiencing. Very carefully, the young man helped her onto the small stool, squatting beside her. “Okay, good, I’ll call an ambulance, okay?” Y/N nodded with difficulty, pressing a hand to her stomach as Charles took his phone from his back pocket.

The young woman felt that everything around her was happening in slow motion, and her ears could not clearly register what Charles was saying on the phone; everything seemed like a muffled murmur overshadowed by the pain that coursed through her as a result of the contractions.

“What’s your name?” The young woman raised her head, her wide gaze settling on Charles, the confusion on her face indicating to him that she hadn’t heard his question. “I didn’t ask before, what’s your name?”

“Y/N, my name is Y/N”

Charles smiled gently, it was a pretty name, it suited her. “It’s a pleasure, Y/N, my name is Charles,” he introduced himself as if he weren’t one of the most well-known people in Italy. “The ambulance will be here in a few minutes, okay? Do you want me to call someone for you?” he inquired softly, as if afraid that if he raised his voice the pain would return.

The young woman closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head. She didn't want to do it alone, but she was, she was alone. Y/N shook her head slightly, opening her eyes again to look at him, trying not to burst into tears right then. "No, it's just me," she paused. "It's just the baby and me."

Charles's heart ached as he watched fear return to Y/N, her eyes clouding with dread and uncertainty. His weary gaze softened, and he moved closer to her, placing his hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, accompanied by a smile meant to offer reassurance.

“Okay, then I’ll stay with you.”

Y/N bit her lower lip hard, her face contorting again, guided by the pain that coursed through her, a little noise of surprise escaping her lips when she noticed Charles placing his outstretched hand in front of her.

“You can take it if you want, I’m not going to leave you alone, Y/N.”

The young woman let out a shaky laugh, incredulous at what was happening, as Charles watched her, raising an eyebrow curiously. “You’re Charles Leclerc.” The young man mumbled a “ Mhm” and nodded, his hand still extended toward her. “I think the last thing you should be doing is helping a pregnant stranger give birth in a pharmacy at midnight.”

Charles chuckled warmly, taking Y/N's hand and placing it in his own, which was still outstretched toward her. He nodded, indicating that she could squeeze it if she wished. "Well, maybe it's not what I expected for my Friday night, but I'm glad I walked in when I did."

A laugh escaped Y/N's lips, or at least she tried to, because the laughter was quickly cut short by a groan of pain, and instinctively she squeezed Charles's hand tightly, her eyes widening in surprise as she realized what she had done. "I'm sorry, I... I'm sorry," she tried to loosen her grip, but the young man stopped her, gently placing his other hand on top of hers. "Y/N, you don't have to apologize. You're suffering. The least I can do is try to support you in any way I can, okay?" Y/N nodded hesitantly, but noticing Charles's determination she said nothing more and continued to hold his hand.

The minutes ticked by, the contractions continued, the young woman continued to suffer, and there was still no sign of the ambulance. “It’s taking too long.” His gaze fell on the door, noticing that there was nothing from outside, no distant siren to indicate that the ambulance was arriving. “They should be here by now; you’re in too much pain.”

Y/N bit her lower lip hard, trying to ignore the echoes of pain she was experiencing, like waves that gradually subsided until they disappeared, waiting for the next contraction that would steal her breath once more. “It’s okay, I’m fine, Charles, I can wait,” she said, trying to smile, though it came across more as a grimace than a smile. “I’ve already waited nine months, I think I can wait a little longer.”

“No,” he said firmly, though his voice remained gentle and soft as he had been speaking to Y/N. “You shouldn’t have to wait, you shouldn’t be in this position.” Charles looked out at the street through one of the windows, the only things visible now were the lamplight and the pharmacy’s neon sign indicating it was still open.

Suddenly, Charles stood up, still holding the girl's hand, rummaging with his free hand in his pants pocket until he finally pulled out what he was looking for. Car keys, a keyring with the Ferrari logo hanging from it. His car keys. "I can give you a ride," he said, showing her the keys, as if Y/N hadn't noticed what he was holding until that moment. "My car is parked right outside. I can get you to the hospital much faster than it will take the ambulance to get here and then take you there."

Y/N simply watched him, unsure what to say or do, guilt beginning to wash over her. No, she couldn't. She couldn't accept his offer; she felt she was taking advantage of Charles's kindness. She'd already done enough by getting the Monegasque driver into this situation. It was too late, and he probably had a lot to do the next day. The young woman knew how hectic a driver's life could be, or at least that's what they said on sports programs and entertainment shows whenever Ferrari drivers were mentioned.

“No, don’t worry, you don’t have to do that.”

“You’re right, I’m not obligated, but I want to do it,” Charles assured her with a determined expression. “You and the baby don’t have to wait like this, you don’t have to keep suffering here when I can help you, help you both .”

A new contraction struck Y/N before she could say anything, and instinctively she squeezed Charles's hand tightly again, but if it bothered or hurt the driver, he didn't let her know, because he continued to hold her, allowing her to cling to him, pleading with his eyes for her to please let him help her because he didn't want to see her suffer like that.

“Okay, you can… You can take me,” the young woman whispered, slightly embarrassed by her position. She felt completely vulnerable under the Monegasque’s gaze, though Charles didn’t judge her at all; quite the opposite, his face relaxed and a smile formed on his lips. “Please,” Y/N added sheepishly.

Charles helped her to her feet, carefully placing her arm around his shoulders and holding her free hand in his to keep Y/N secure. Although the young woman was far from feeling safe, she felt foolish for not being mentally prepared for the possibility of her water breaking right there at work, and she was terrified because she felt she wasn't ready, that she needed even more months to prepare for motherhood, more time to feel at least a little bit ready for how much her life was about to change once again.

“Hey, you’re doing great.” Charles’s voice reached her ears like a calming river. His gaze conveyed the reassurance Y/N needed, and his firm grip on her was the anchor she needed to keep from succumbing to despair. Only Charles and his presence stood between Y/N and the possibility of bursting into tears. “Just a few more steps. You can lean on me if you need to, I won’t leave you.”

Once Charles had left Y/N sitting in his car, with the heater on because of the cold weather, he went back inside the pharmacy to turn everything off and close the door, but not before taking the young woman's backpack where she had her belongings.

“Are we okay?” he asked as he helped her fasten her seatbelt, leaving her backpack in the back seat. A barely perceptible nod was the answer to his question, but it was enough to reassure him and finally get the car started.

Y/N didn't register much of the journey; the lights around her were blurry, the radio sounded like an unintelligible murmur in the background, and Charles's voice every few seconds reminded her to breathe deeply, assuring her that everything was going to be alright and that they would arrive at the hospital soon.

She was impressed. She never thought driving so fast and safely was possible, but somehow Charles had managed it because they'd arrived at the hospital parking lot in less than ten minutes. What was clear to Y/N was that Charles didn't park the way he drove, she was sure that if there had been someone handing out tickets at that hour, the Monegasque would have gotten one without hesitation.

When they arrived at the hospital, Charles turned off the car and quickly walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for Y/N and helping her out very carefully, not wanting to trigger another contraction that could hurt her or weaken her even more.

“She needs help.” That was the first thing Charles said as they walked through the hospital's automatic doors, drawing the attention of the nurses who quickly approached them with a wheelchair, noticing Y/N's prominent belly and how much pain she was in. If Charles did notice the nurses' surprised expressions when they realized who it was, he didn't say or do anything to let them know that he knew that they knew. But for Y/N, the staff's reaction to seeing the Sun of Maranello entering the building accompanied by a pregnant stranger was quite obvious.

"How often are the contractions occurring?"

Y/N groaned, "I don't know, maybe... five minutes? Six?" she replied with difficulty.

“Two minutes, and they’re getting stronger,” Charles replied without taking his eyes off Y/N, who was already in the wheelchair, one hand on her abdomen and the other tightly holding her backpack, clinging to it as if her life depended on it, in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

The nurse nodded, approaching Y/N to begin moving her chair. “Okay, we need to register her. Is there anyone else we need to call to accompany her?”

“No,” she whispered. “I’m alone.”

It was then that Charles took a step toward the young woman as the nurse grabbed a form, squatting down beside Y/N and taking her hand once more for support. “I’m with them. I’ll stay until this is all over.”

The nurse glanced from Charles to Y/N and back again, clearly surprised to see the young Monegasque man in that situation, but she didn't say a word and simply nodded.

“Thank you.” The girl whispered, her voice trembling and her eyes glistening with tears that had welled up in them.

Charles shook his head, giving the young woman's delicate hand a light squeeze. "Nothing to thank me for, I already told you, I'm not going to leave you alone."

The room they'd put her in wasn't very big, but it had everything she needed for her care, and Y/N was incredibly grateful it was a private room rather than a shared one. She wasn't sure she could tolerate anyone else in her personal space besides the hospital staff and Charles.

Charles, who was sitting beside her. Charles, who continued to hold her hand even as she squeezed it with each contraction. Charles, who hadn't complained once, who murmured to her how well she was doing and that they were getting closer to the birth of the baby.

Charles, who had appeared like an angel, ready to help and accompany her. His eyes never left Y/N as the nurses settled her in the room, preparing the IV and monitors, as if he feared that by doing so the young woman would disappear or something would happen to her.

“Charles…” The young man looked up, stopping whatever he’d been searching for on his phone to focus all his attention on her. “You don’t have to stay, really.” She murmured, her gaze meeting his, trying to smile to put him at ease, to let him leave without guilt. “It’s quite late, and you probably have a lot to do, much more important things than being in a hospital holding down a pregnant woman you met less than five hours ago.”

The Monegasque looked at his watch, “It’s 3:38 in the morning, I have nothing more important to do than make sure you and the baby are okay.” He winked at her playfully.

Y/N smiled unconsciously and Charles, noticing this, also smiled letting out a small, relieved sigh.

They both talked between contractions, waiting for the moment of delivery, waiting for Y/N to dilate as the nurses and the obstetrician had told her.

They reintroduced each other, Y/N telling him how years before she had come to Italy on a scholarship to study and had ultimately decided to stay, leaving her life in Latin America behind. The young woman admitted, rather embarrassed, that she was working long hours at the pharmacy because she needed the money, not only for the rent of the store and her apartment, but also for everything she would have to buy with the arrival of the baby. She explained, vaguely and without going into much detail, that the baby's father wasn't interested in accepting his role as a father, having disappeared from her life after Y/N told him about her pregnancy.

Every time Y/N shared things about her life, especially about her pregnancy and the situation with her ex-partner, she felt judged, but not by Charles. He listened to her, he truly listened, and he understood how strong the young woman by his side was, for persevering despite the circumstances.

And just as Y/N told him a little about herself, Charles did the same, but not only the details everyone knew, like that he had siblings or a puppy that his younger brother was currently looking after. No, Charles had told her things that not many people knew, things a little more personal, things the press would never know but that people close to him did. Like the fact that he was taking guitar and drum lessons, intending to write a song for his mother's birthday, or that he was thinking about adopting another puppy so that Leo, his dachshund, would have company.

By the time they realized it, several more hours had passed and the nurses, along with the obstetrician, came to perform the last check, noticing that the contractions were much more constant and that despite the anesthesia and painkillers, they still had a big effect on Y/N.

“It’s time, you’re ready Y/N,” said the obstetrician with a small smile, “Ready to welcome your little one?”

Y/N nodded, giving Charles a terrified look, who gave her a gentle smile and a supportive handshake.

“Mr. Leclerc,” one of the nurses called to him, “we need you to leave the room, you can wait outside.”

Charles stared at the nurse, motionless, as if frozen. He didn't want to leave, didn't want to leave them alone, until he felt Y/N squeeze his hand to get his attention. Her face was more than enough proof of how tired she was, but Y/N still smiled to let him know that it was alright, that he could leave, and that she would be fine, they would be fine.

“I’ll be nearby, okay? I won’t go far. I’ll wait in the hallway.”

“Thank you. Just… thank you for everything.”

Without thinking too much, Charles moved a little closer to Y/N, gently placing a kiss on her hair before leaving the room, feeling a tightness in his chest as he listened to the murmur of the nurses' and the obstetrician's voices giving instructions.

The young Monegasque leaned back against the wall, his gaze sweeping down the corridor. He noticed several chairs scattered along it, most of them empty, and those that weren't were occupy by family members overcome by exhaustion, their eyes closed and expressions calm, oblivious to what was happening in the room in front of Charles.

He had no choice but to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Charles lost count of how many times he paced back and forth in the hallway, leaning against the wall again, sitting down, and then getting up again seconds later because he couldn't stay still. He was too restless; he wanted to know what was happening. The worry for Y/N and the baby, those two people he hadn't even known existed just hours before, was consuming him and slowly driving him mad. Especially because he could hear Y/N's whimpers and cries, his heart aching as he realized he couldn't do anything to help her. He wanted to be there with her, to hold her and comfort her, to whisper that everything was going to be alright because she was strong and could handle this and much more. He had even been taken by surprise when he felt a burning in his eyes and noticed tears beginning to well up.

Then suddenly all the noise stopped. Y/N's whimpers were gone, as were the nurses' voices and the obstetrician's calls for her to push. All was silence, an overwhelming silence that seemed to last an eternity, though it was only a few seconds—the longest seconds of his life.

And then the cry of a baby broke the silence into a thousand pieces.

Charles's breathing stopped and his vision blurred, and before he knew it, tears were streaming freely down his cheeks.

When he noticed the nurses leaving the room, he quickly approached one of them, who gave him a warm smile upon seeing his condition. “Mom is fine, and the baby is perfectly healthy; they both did very well.” The tightness Charles had been feeling in his chest since they had taken him out lessened considerably when those words came from the nurse.

“Can I… go in and see them?” he asked hopefully, his gaze traveling from the nurse to the door, which prompted a giggle from the woman.

“Of course, she asked about you.” His heart leaped in his chest at those words, nodding as he wiped the tears that had wet his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket.

He was nervous, restless, anxious. He'd never felt this way before. The state he was in wasn't even comparable to the nerves and excitement he felt during race weekends—it was so much more than that. It was strange, nothing like this had ever happened to him. He didn't understand how he could feel so many things because of two people he'd met just hours before, but there he was, his heart racing at the thought of seeing them.

Taking a deep breath, the Monegasque slowly opened the bedroom door, trying not to make too much noise.

Charles hadn't even taken three steps into the room before he stopped dead in his tracks, seeing what was probably the most tender sight his eyes had ever beheld. He covered his mouth with one hand, a trembling sigh escaping his lips as a wave of tranquility washed over him, the tension he'd been carrying in his shoulders completely evaporating.

Y/N looked exhausted, her bangs plastered to her forehead, her face flushed, and her cheeks wet with tears, but Charles still thought she looked radiant. And in her arms was a small bundle wrapped in lilac blankets, a striking contrast to the white of the room, the most vibrant thing in that small space.

“Hi again.” Y/N murmured with a radiant smile despite her tiredness, as if she hadn’t spent at least five hours in labor.

“Hi…” Charles whispered, slowly approaching, fearing that any movement he made might disturb them, until finally he stood beside them and it was then that his breath caught in his throat.

In Y/N's arms rested the smallest baby Charles had ever seen, her tiny face peeking out from above the blankets, her little face radiating a complete peace that softened his heart and melted him with love.

“I’d like you to meet Ginevra,” Y/N said, gently moving to uncover the baby’s face a little more towards Charles. “Ginny.”

“Hi, Ginny,” he said in a syrupy voice, completely captivated by the sight of them both. An incredulous smile formed on his lips as he saw the baby stir slightly and her tiny lips curve into what looked like a little smile.

“How are you feeling?” the driver asked, his gaze fixed on Y/N. The calm of the place was a stark contrast to everything that had happened just minutes before. “Would you like me to get you anything? Is there anything I need to do for you?”

Y/N ignored his questions and uttered two words that took Charles by surprise: “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“I think it’s the least I can do,” the young woman explained, shrugging. “You stayed even when you didn’t have to, and you’re still here worrying about us.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Y/N. I told you I’d stay with you, and I always keep my word.” Charles’s gaze fell on the baby again, a smile involuntarily spreading across his face as he watched her stir in her mother’s arms. “You were incredibly brave, Y/N. You did amazingly well,” he whispered, admiring the sight before him.

Y/N looked away from him, feeling her face flush and the urge to cry overwhelm her, completely emotional. Overwhelmed by how sweet Charles was being to both of them even if it wasn't his responsibility to do so.

He was too sweet, too kind and considerate.

Y/N wasn't used to it. Y/N was used to her efforts and bravery not being recognized; she was used to not being seen.

But Charles did. Charles saw her.

And seeing them both like that, in that small room, made Charles felt something inside him changing, as if something was falling into place perfectly. It was as if he had finally completed that puzzle that had been missing a piece for years.

Just like Y/N, he was overwhelmed by everything he was feeling, but neither of them experienced it in a negative way, on the contrary.

It felt great, too good, as if it were what it was meant to be.

As if they were exactly where they were meant to be, at the time they were meant to be, with the people they were meant to be with.

“Is amazing,” Charles couldn’t tear his gaze away from them, his green eyes shifting from Y/N to Ginevra, then back to Y/N, repeating the cycle. An emotional smile graced his lips as the baby snuggled even closer to her mother’s chest.

“You should rest,” he said gently when he saw Y/N yawn again. A couple of hours had passed since the baby's birth, and Charles hadn't left their side for a moment. He sat beside the bed, completely ignoring the messages and calls still coming in on his phone, ignoring the fact that he probably had to leave to attend to his responsibilities, but he didn't want to leave them alone. The young man was trying to ignore that little voice in his head that told him he would have to leave sooner or later, a tightness in his chest at the thought of going away, because as crazy as it seemed, he didn't want to be apart from them. He wanted to stay by their side for more than just a few hours or a day.

Y/N shook her head. “No, I don’t want to leave her,” her gaze fell on the baby, overwhelmed by the love she felt for the little one she had carried in her womb for nine months. “She just came into the world, I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“Y/N, you need to rest. If not for yourself, do it for her.” He was sure that was the only way the girl would eventually give in to his request. “I’m here. I’ll stay with her so you can rest as much as you need.”

“You need to rest too, you’ve been here all this time, I’m sure you have a lot of things to do, you have responsibilities.”

“Mhm, but I’m not the one who gave birth and was in labor for hours, I can go a few hours without sleep.” He winked at her, smiling amusedly, ignoring the part about responsibilities.

Understanding that Charles wouldn't take no for an answer, Y/N finally agreed, a little nervous at the idea of not holding Ginevra in her arms. But once again, Charles surprised her with his actions. The Monegasque brought closer the small crib that had been left in the room for the baby, placing it next to the bed and in front of the chair where he was sitting. Then, turning to her, he carefully and gently took the baby in his arms and placed her in the crib.

“See? Nobody’s going anywhere. You’re going to rest while Ginny and I spend some time together. I’m sure she’ll love talking to me about the car setup and strategies for the new season, won’t you, Ginny?” And as if the baby understood what Charles was saying, she let out a soft babble, causing the two adults to smile. “Now get some rest, Y/N.”

With a sigh, the young woman nodded, feeling the exhaustion fall upon her like a pile of bricks, closing her eyes peacefully as Charles and the baby stayed by her side, like a silent anchor to cling to in the whirlwind that was to be her new life.

Even if he wanted to stay longer with them, Charles had to leave. It was already around five in the afternoon, and he couldn't keep ignoring the constant calls and messages that kept arriving on his cell phone. Y/N had told him not to worry, to leave, and that he had already done more than enough for them, that she would be eternally grateful for all the help and support he had given them, but Charles wasn't satisfied with that.

He wanted to do more, much more.

He had lunch with Y/N after going to buy something much more delicious than the hospital food. He had taken some photos of just the baby and others of both of them so that Y/N would have memories of Ginevra's birth, taking some with his own phone. Y/N had even given him the opportunity to bottle-feed Ginny after the nurses told her they could do so when they saw that the baby didn't want to breastfeed. Charles had spent a truly memorable day with the two of them, but duty called, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, it was no longer possible.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

“No, Charles, I already have everything I need, and if not, I’m sure one of the nurses will help me.” Worry and doubt were evident on Charles’s face as he paced the room for several minutes, making sure everything was in order and even checking each item three times. Neither Y/N nor Ginevra would be discharged until at least the following day, as the obstetrician and pediatrician wanted to keep them under observation for a day to ensure everything was alright before they left.

“Your phone?”

Y/N pointed to the phone on the bedside table, watching as Charles approached and handed it to her to unlock. Confused, she unlocked it and then saw the Monegasque man typing something she couldn't quite see. "You have my number now, and I sent myself a message to add you to my contacts. If anything happens, if you need anything, or if there's an emergency, just call me, and I'll be here in a few minutes, okay?"

“I don’t think it’s necessary …”

“Promise me,” Charles said firmly, but gently. “Please, Y/N, it’ll put my mind at ease.” A lie. He wasn’t going to feel any more at ease, but at least he could count on Y/N being able to contact him directly should any problem arise.

“Okay, I promise. You have my word that if anything happens, I’ll get in touch.” Charles nodded, smiling, pleased with her response, and moved closer until he was standing beside her once more. His green eyes rested on both of them, his gaze first on Y/N and then on Ginevra. Before he thought twice, he leaned down slightly to place a kiss on the baby’s head, then repeated the gesture with Y/N, feeling a warmth rise up his neck and settle on the back of his head, his ears, and his face at the touch.

“See you later.”

“See you, Charles, and thanks again for everything.”

Giving them one last look that reflected the internal struggle the driver was experiencing inside, Charles left the room, carefully closing the door behind him.

The room felt different once Charles left.

Empty perhaps, too quiet, allowing Y/N to pick up sounds that before were only a muffled background noise, the sounds of machines resonating more loudly, the distant sound of footsteps in the hallway sounding closer than they actually were, even with the murmur of the television in the background. But what most captured her attention was the steady, soft sound of the breathing of the tiny life nestled against her chest.

Gently shifting her weight, the young woman arranged the blankets around her daughter, taking a deep breath as she felt pain coursing through her in places she didn't even know could hurt, exhaustion settling in with its full weight on her bones. But all of that paled in comparison, becoming insignificant when her gaze fell upon her daughter. Ginevra's small face, with a relaxed expression, enveloped in peace and tranquility, one hand clutching the blanket and the other resting on Y/N's chest, in contact with her skin, enjoying the warmth emanating from her mother, enjoying being where she belonged, in her mother's arms.

“He didn’t seem to want to leave,” Y/N whispered, tracing gentle strokes along Ginny’s back, drawing small circles with her fingers. “He kept apologizing for having to leave after talking to his manager and someone from Ferrari, as if he felt guilty about having to go even though he doesn’t owe us anything. And he was so kind to you, and to me from the very beginning, even though he could have left after bringing us to the hospital.” The woman couldn’t help but smile as she remembered how Charles had tried to negotiate staying a few more hours with whoever he was talking to on the phone, until she herself reassured him that it was fine, that he had to leave because they needed him. After all, Charles had a life, a job, things to do, tests to run, cars to drive, things that didn’t involve the two of them in his plans, and wouldn’t either.

Charles had a life, a life to which neither Y/N nor Ginevra belonged. A bittersweet smile formed on her lips. But it was alright, it was the way things were meant to be.

Y/N had enjoyed Charles's company and support far too much, and it felt so absurd, even ridiculous. They barely knew each other; it had only been a few hours, less than a day, a day filled with uncertainty, pain, and finally the joy that everything had turned out alright. But that didn't stop her mind from playing tricks on her. Since Charles had left, her mind kept replaying every moment she'd spent with him since he'd walked into the pharmacy, recalling the sound of his voice, the way he smiled, trying to reassure her when it was clear he wasn't at all sure of what he was doing, the way he looked not only at her but also at the baby, with a gaze heavy with something that seemed dangerously close to affection.

No, she was probably imagining things, it must have been the exhaustion and the effect of the painkillers.

Y/N told herself that she was being too foolish to let those thoughts wander through her mind, that she was being silly to imagine what it might be like to see him again, to have that calm presence by her side again for more than just a few hours.

Her mind was becoming her worst enemy, daring to imagine a version of what her life could be where Charles wasn't a one-time thing, something ephemeral, but where he was a constant presence, something more permanent, an idea so unreal and unlikely that it almost hurt.

“No, no, no.” She whispered, closing her eyes tightly for a few seconds before opening them again as she took a deep breath, forcing her mind to stop with those silly ideas, to tear down that silly fantasy with the voice of reason that echoed in the back of her mind.

It wasn't going to happen, it couldn't happen.

All Charles had done for the two of them was simply Charles being kind, being generous when a pregnant woman, alone and scared, needed someone's support, anyone's, and Charles had been that person. Decent, gentle, and compassionate. That was all. There was no need to delve deeper when there was nothing more to see, no hidden meaning.

Y/N would be eternally grateful to Charles for what he had done, and while his presence and support had meant everything to her, it wasn't as if it had meant anything more to him than helping someone in need. It was her this time but it could have been anyone else in her situation, and Charles probably would have helped them the same way, because that was simply his nature.

For her, a memory she would treasure forever in her heart. For him, most likely a unique moment that would eventually be forgotten.

Night had fallen and Y/N was reading one of the maternity pamphlets that had been given to her after the birth, with useful information about Ginevra's first months of life and the things she should keep in mind, what she should not forget.

Ginny had woken up a couple of times and Y/N had calmly taken care of her, guided by the nurses' instructions and her own instincts, changing her diaper, feeding her, and humming soft melodies until the baby closed her eyes once more, drifting off to sleep. She envied her a little, all Ginny had to do was sleep, eat, and use poops without any worries that might disturb her rest.

Putting aside the vaccine pamphlet, she picked up another one that talked about the precautions to take when giving the baby her first baths the moment she was ready to do so, when her phone vibrated on the table indicating that she had received a new message.

Settling more comfortably in bed, the woman grabbed it, her eyes opening in surprise as she saw it was a message, a giggle unconsciously escaped her lips when she saw the contact’s name.

Charles 🏎:

How are you? Is everything alright?

Do you need anything?

Y/N stared at the screen for a long time, rereading the messages, her heart pounding in her chest. He had written to them, taken the time to ask about them despite being quite busy and far away. Charles had thought of them.

Before she could overthink it, Y/N took a picture of the baby sleeping in her crib, snuggled up to her blanket, the lamplight gently illuminating her peaceful expression.

Y/N 🤍:

(photograph of Ginevra)

We're fine, Ginny's asleep and I'm reading some of the pamphlets they gave me about motherhood.

You? Everything alright?

Charles's response came quickly, it didn't take long.

Charles 🏎:

She's beautiful, I'm glad you're both doing well.

As for me… Yes, you could say so.

I was a little distracted thinking about things, but everything's fine.

I have to go now, but see you later.

Y/N reread the last part of Charles' message.

See you later.

“It doesn’t mean we’re going to see him again,” she whispered to Ginny, as if the little girl could hear her, as if she was awake to see how her mother felt after a simple message. “It’s just a friendly farewell, nothing more.”

Setting her phone aside the woman turned to look out the bedroom window, at the stars and the moon making their appearance in the Italian night. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, Y/N took a deep breath.

She was going to treasure the memory of everything that had happened in the last few hours, keep them in a special place in her heart, and nothing more. She had to go on, life didn't stop, and she knew that better than anyone.

It was the sound of knocking on the door that startled her awake. Y/N looked around, disoriented, until seconds later she remembered where she was and searched for her baby's crib, breathing a sigh of relief once more when she saw that Ginny was still asleep in it.

The girl ran a hand over her face, especially her eyes, trying to erase the traces of sleep, when she heard another soft knock on the door, telling her she hadn't imagined anything. Confused, she looked at the door, not understanding why the nurses were knocking to enter when they had done so several times during the early morning without knocking, checking on her and Ginevra.

“You can come in.” she said, though it sounded more like a question than an order.

The bedroom door opened carefully, revealing a standing figure.

Charles stood in the doorway, wearing different clothes than he had when he brought Y/N to the hospital. His hair was slightly disheveled, and a radiant smile graced his lips, his green eyes sparkling with life. However, what caught Y/N's attention most was the sheer number of shopping bags Charles was carrying, some perched precariously against his chest, threatening to slip at any moment.

Y/N blinked in confusion. Again. And again.

“…Charles?”

“Good morning…” he smiled a little embarrassed, feeling an almost imperceptible blush appear on his face.

For a second Y/N thought she was dreaming, exhaustion was probably playing tricks on her and she had begun to hallucinate… was that possible? Yes, that had to be it.

“Can I… Can I come in?” the young man inquired, shifting nervously in his foots. A nod from Y/N was enough to signal the Monegasque to enter the room, closing the door behind him. Carefully, he began placing the bags he had brought on the chair, the table, and even the floor, as there wasn't enough room for them all. He kept only one bag in his hand, which bore the logo of a well-known Italian pastry chain. “Have you had breakfast? Because I brought something to share.”

Y/N continued without saying nothing, her gaze fixed on the driver who had begun to take everything out of that bag, spreading it out on the small table and bringing it closer to the bed so that Y/N could grab whatever she wanted.

“I thought you had a lot of things to do, yesterday you were reprimanded for missing almost the entire day of work.”

“Mhm, but I’ve already sorted out everything I had pending, and we moved some of the remaining things around so I could have the day off,” he explained, handing her a spoon and a napkin, holding up the three slices of cake he had brought for breakfast. “I wanted to come and see you, find out how your night was, so I thought it would be a good idea to bring something to eat. I figured you’d prefer something sweet to whatever they offer here, and since I didn’t know exactly which one was your favorite, I brought several for you to try.”

Y/N accepted the second portion Charles offered her, a slice of chocolate cake that resembled the cake they ate in the movie Matilda, chocolate was Y/N's weakness. "And what are all the other bags supposed to be?"

Charles cleared his throat nervously, swallowing what he had eaten. He looked at the woman with a nervous smile. "Maybe I stumbled across a baby store on the way here," he paused, looking at the number of bags he had brought. "And maybe I got a little carried away shopping." He finished with a relaxed laugh.

“Just a little?”

"Well, I may have completely lost control, but I don't regret anything." He shrugged, downplaying the matter.

“Charles…”

“I saw something purple and thought of her and the blanket she’d been given, so I knew I had to get it. Then I saw something white, then something really small and cute, and after that I couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d look in everything that crossed my path in that store,” he paused, standing up to walk over to a specific bag, taking out two stuffed animals, one that looked like a small, dark-colored horse and the other that looked like a light-colored dachshund. “Or how she’d look playing with those things… She needs to learn from a young age which the best team is,” he explained, holding up first the horse and then the dog. “And this one was because it reminded me of Leo.”

Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes, unable to tear her gaze away from the Monegasque driver. “Charles… you shouldn’t have done this, this is… It’s too much, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

“You don’t have to do it, Y/N, it’s a gift.”

“You didn’t have to do it,” the saddened girl whispered.

“No, but I wanted to,” he replied gently.

Y/N didn't know what to say. She felt like her heart was about to burst because of Charles's gesture. Even if she tried to say something, she wasn't sure the words would come out or that she could form a coherent sentence. But Charles noticed, and instead of forcing her to speak, he suggested they see everything he had bought for the baby. To keep Y/N from moving too much, he brought the bags closer and showed her what was inside, explaining what he had imagined when he saw them, showing her tiny onesies, socks so impossibly small, little hats and even baby bibs with adorable drawings and patterns.

“I didn’t know exactly what was recommended for a newborn baby, especially with stuffed animals, so I asked the woman who worked at the store for help,” he commented while explaining to Y/N that the stuffed animals were made of a special fabric so that they wouldn’t collect dust and Y/N wouldn’t risk getting lint in her mouth if she decided to try to eat them, eliciting a laugh from the baby’s mother.

A worried expression crossed Charles's face when he saw Ginny stir in her crib, opening her eyes and blinking several times until she woke up, babbling and making little noises with her mouth. "I'm sorry, did I wake her?"

“No, don’t worry, it’s time for her to have her milk,” Y/N reassured him.

And Charles nodded, watching them both intently, seeing Y/N take the baby in her arms and the bottle beside her filled with breast milk she had collected with the help of a nurse. The Monegasque was completely mesmerized by the sight before him, gazing at Ginny as if she was the most precious and miraculous little thing he had ever seen, and looking at Y/N with reverence and something more that the young woman couldn't quite put her finger on.

“I meant it when I said I’d see you later,” he began, folding the last item of clothing he’d taken out and putting it back in its bag. “I guess I wasn’t clear enough for you to be as surprised as you were when you saw me at the door.” Y/N looked down, embarrassed, glancing at Ginny’s face to avoid Charles’s gaze. “I really wanted to know how you were doing. I wanted to see you with my own eyes. A few messages just weren’t enough,” he said quietly.

Y/N noticed that Charles wanted to say something else, but he looked unsure, as if he were afraid to say it. “Charles? What’s wrong?”

“I… There’s something else I’d like to say,” he began, his gaze shifting from the baby to Y/N. Seeing that she was watching him with a calm expression and a genuine smile, the Monegasque continued. “I know everything that’s happened since I walked into the pharmacy has been too fast, too unexpected… just too much, isn’t it? And I don’t want to assume anything or make you uncomfortable, Y/N, but…” Charles nervously ran a hand over the back of his neck, a gesture that betrayed his anxiety. “I’d like to be here. With you, and with Ginny.”

Y/N said nothing, allowing him to continue speaking, even though her heart had begun to beat rapidly.

“I’d like to stay in touch,” he continued, carefully choosing his words. “To make sure you’re all right and to visit if you’re okay with it. To get to know you better, not just you, not just Ginny, both of you.” He looked at her with genuine sincerity, and despite the doubts gnawing at him, his words came out in a tone that made his intentions clear. “But only if you’re okay with it. If not, I understand. I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree to anything.”

God. He was too sweet, too gentle, and Y/N was getting used to receiving that treatment from Charles far too quickly.

There he was once again, giving her space, leaving the decision in her hands, prioritizing what she wanted and needed. Once again offering himself without trying to take more than what was offered to him.

“I don’t want to be… too intense, or overstep your bounds,” he added gently. “But I really don’t want to say goodbye to either of you and never see you again. I’d like to stay close, in any way you’ll allow.”

He didn't get an immediate response from the young woman, and Charles truly feared he had overstepped her bounds, truly feared that it was all too much and that it had frightened her, because he could see the way the gears were turning in Y/N's mind, processing everything he had just told her.

Charles was more than aware that he was feeling too much in too little time, and that terrified him, but at the same time, it drove him to seek more, to want more. Perhaps it was madness, but a thought had taken root in his mind after leaving them the previous afternoon to return to work: he wanted to be with them, not for a few hours, not for a short time, no. He wanted to be with them as much as possible. He could see it in fleeting images that appeared in his mind, memories of things they had never done but that he felt the need to bring to life. Moments with Y/N, doing housework or other activities a little outside their routine, watching Ginny grow up, being a constant and natural presence in their lives.

It was absurd, it was madness to have those thoughts, those ideas about someone he'd met just a couple of hours earlier in an even stranger circumstance, to feel that attraction toward a life he'd never imagined even in his wildest dreams. But there he was, succumbing to that madness.

He was terrified, Charles was afraid he had frightened Y/N. He was aware of how vulnerable Y/N was, how much the young woman tried to protect herself from the outside world, from people, especially after everything he had learned about her past, her life, her family, and Ginny's father. The last thing he wanted was to smother her with everything he had said, to become just another person in her life who demanded more without giving anything in return.

“I would like that,” she finally said, breaking the silence and pulling Charles out of that agonizing state, allowing him to surface and take a breath of air, letting him breathe again. “I really would like that, Charles.”

“Really?” the young man questioned incredulously, but with a hopeful tone and sparkling eyes.

Y/N nodded, smiling, feeling her cheeks slightly flush, "Yes, it would be a pleasure to have you near us."

“Thank you,” Charles whispered as he approached her and wrapped her in a small hug, gently placing a kiss on her hair.

And at that moment, even if they weren't yet aware of it, they were giving way to a great new chapter in both their lives, chapters of their lives that would end up intertwined.

Y/N thought it would be difficult to adjust to having Charles around more often; after all, she was used to being alone, even with Ginny now. And yes, it was a little strange, but Charles made sure that feeling didn't last long and was replaced by comfort and tranquility, by peace and warmth.

Charles's presence in their lives wasn't abrupt, it was a process. He didn't demand that they make room for him in their lives, their routines, their home. No, it was something Charles gradually earned, starting with quiet gestures like writing to her in the morning to see how they had slept, sending messages or calling to remind her to eat or not to forget to close the register before leaving the pharmacy when she returned to work. Little by little, he began to get more directly involved, showing up at her work when he had to go to Maranello, or visiting them whenever he could on his days off after a race weekend.

It began simply, as a friendship. Charles had decided to take his foot off the gas and slow things down, choosing to be patient. He adopted the role of someone who appeared for Y/N without asking for anything in return, a support, a safe haven, slowly and deliberately venturing into both of their lives, allowing Y/N to set the pace of whatever was happening between them, savoring every small step he took toward them.

Little by little, Charles had managed not only to learn Y/N's routines and her daily life, but also to get involved in them in whatever way he could, adapting to the circumstances without demanding a change from her to accommodate his schedules or the routine that his job as a Ferrari driver required.

Even so, Y/N still feared that sooner or later Charles would leave. It wouldn't be the first time someone had done that in her life; she was used to it. But being used to it didn't mean it would hurt any less when Charles left, quite the opposite. Y/N was certain that the day Charles decided to go, her heart would shatter into a thousand pieces, and she didn't know how well she would cope, especially with Ginny, who seemed to adore Charles, even if she didn't quite understand what was happening around her.

Y/N constantly feared abandonment. But Charles made it his mission to show her that it wasn't going to happen.

Of course, there was a possibility that things would cool off as the months passed, that it was just a passing thing, something temporary, which was Y/N's biggest fear. But it was quite the opposite, because time allowed their bond to deepen, to become much stronger, and the impact of each other's presence and Ginny's on both their lives was evident.

Charles made it clear to her every day that he had come to stay, to get involved, to become an important part of her memories.

He was always there in one way or another, perfectly adapting to her rhythm.

Because even when he was traveling the world, Charles found a way to be present.

Sometimes it was through calls while he was in the hotels where he stayed when there was a race, at crazy hours for him, for the simple fact that he waited to call them when they had a decent schedule that did not disturb Ginny's sleep hours, because clearly Charles had learned both of their routines, he had learned them and had adapted everything he could from his own to theirs.

Other times it was through video calls during stolen moments in the paddock, still in his team kit, helmet by his side and fireproof vest around his waist, his hair tousled and a radiant smile on his lips. Moments where Y/N would tell him what they had done with Ginny during the day, and where Charles would listen attentively, offering his opinion and celebrating the small victories Ginny achieved while he was unfortunately away.

“She’s doing it again,” Y/N murmured, trying to focus the camera better on Ginny, who was tightly hugging the stuffed horse that Charles had given her, while babbling unintelligible things that made her look completely adorable.

Charles chuckled, “I told you we had to teach her which team was the best from a young age, she’s perfect.” The Monegasque paused for a split second before speaking again, before he could overthink it. “You both are.”

And even if Y/N didn't say anything when he made little comments like that, Charles could notice how those simple comments had an effect on her, her smile becoming even more radiant, her beautiful eyes sparkling, and her cheeks slightly flushed.

There were times when the driver would send audio messages, and Y/N would play them for Ginny so she would hear his voice, even if she couldn't see him. Y/N had no doubt that Ginny recognized Charles's voice. It was enough to see how the baby would start to move and babble and giggle when she heard Charles's voice with that distinctive accent.

Photos between them were also common, while Y/N would send things of what she did during her day, what they were going to eat with Ginny, what the baby was doing or even products that arrived at the pharmacy Y/N was sure might interest Charles, he would send her in return photos of the circuits, of the sunset when everyone began to leave the paddock, of colorful shops or of toys and clothes that he chose in each city he visited to bring back as gifts for both of them, always with a little note saying things like "I saw it and inevitably thought of you" or "It's ideal for Ginny."

And there was never a shortage of goodnight or good morning messages, where Charles never forgot to tell them how much he missed them. What Charles found hardest every time a new race weekend approached was saying goodbye, having to leave, because every time he had to walk away from them again, something inside him screamed at him not to go, to tell everyone else to fuck off, turn around, and stay with them.

And they missed him terribly too, so much so that Y/N had started watching Formula 1 races, something that had never particularly interested her, but which she now used as an opportunity to see Charles and feel a little closer to him, along with Ginny. Because if Charles was doing everything he could to adapt to them and their lifestyle, she also wanted to be able to get a little more involved in his life, to give back some of what she was receiving from the Monegasque.

However, the best moments, those etched in their memories, were the reunions. When, after days or even weeks, Charles could finally return to Italy, a country where he was spending much more time than before, and he would appear at the door of their small apartment to visit them with the gifts he had brought, or when he would surprise them at the pharmacy to invite them to lunch.

Every time Y/N saw Charles with Ginny in his arms, or playing with her, or even telling her made-up stories about race cars and super-fast vehicles, she couldn't help but think how easily Charles had adapted to them. He had never done anything that might upset them or overstep Y/N's boundaries, never assumed a role that wasn't offered to him. He asked before acting, waited before doing, wanting to make sure Y/N was okay with it, that she was comfortable, that she felt heard and seen, valued. When Charles held Ginny, it was always with Y/N's permission, always gently, with a tenderness and warmth that overwhelmed her poor heart, which went wild every time Charles did something for them both.

So, little by little, she began to involve him even more, reserving special moments for him, like Ginny's first attempts at crawling, the laughter and chaos during bath time, those unintelligible babbles the baby made while eating her food, and more. He had become the first person Y/N told everything to, every little new thing, no matter how small, because when she thought about Ginevra's achievements, he was the first person she thought of. And Charles treasured every video, every photo, every message Y/N sent him as if they were the most precious things to him, because they were. Everything concerning Y/N and Ginny had become one of his priorities, because the two girls had quickly become his priorities.

The months passed, marked by races and Ginevra's constant growth.

Ginny was heavier in their arms, she had become louder and more outgoing, with greater self-confidence thanks to the constant support of Y/N and Charles.

Charles. Y/N smiled unconsciously every time she heard his name mentioned on a program or on the lips of customers at the pharmacy. That name Ginny had learned even before she could walk, babbling something like a "Cha-Cha," immediately recognizing the Monegasque man when she heard his voice in an audio message sent to her mother or when she saw his picture in a newspaper. And Y/N pretended not to see the tears in Charles's eyes the first time she heard Ginny try to babble his name.

During those months they had already met Charles's family; Y/N could remember what had been her first in-person meeting with the Leclerc brothers and Pascale after only having heard about them thanks to Charles's stories.

The restaurant was small and cozy, in a quiet but picturesque area near Y/N's apartment. Nothing too fancy, but much more familiar and warmer, with wooden tables and the soft murmur of the few people there.

Y/N adjusted her grip on Ginny, who was in her arms, wearing one of the many onesies that Charles had gifted her.

“Hey, relax, you have nothing to worry about,” Charles murmured, sitting next to her, resting his arm on the back of the woman’s chair to trace small, gentle caresses on her shoulder in an attempt to help calm her nerves.

Charles seemed calm, but Y/N knew him too well to notice that he was quite excited, his leg moving rhythmically under the table.

Charles's family already knew about the two of them, they knew a lot about both of them even without having had the chance to meet the girls before. They knew what time Ginny usually went to sleep, what her favorite stuffed animal was, what she liked to eat most, and how Charles almost burst into tears the first time Ginny fell asleep in his arms.

Charles constantly talked to his family about them, just as he constantly talked to her about his mother and siblings, he had even opened up about her to talk about her father and how important Jules Bianchi had been in his life.

Even without having met in person, they already knew everything about each other, but that didn't stop Y/N from being incredibly nervous.

When Charles' family finally arrived, the first one Y/N saw was his mother, Pascale, watching them with a radiant smile, and the young woman had barely stood up before she had the woman wrapping her in a hug, careful not to disturb Ginny.

“I’m Pascale, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you both, although I feel like I’ve known you all my life with everything Charles has told us about you.”

“Thank you so much for coming, it’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

“So, you’re real,” Arthur said then, a playful smile on his lips after enthusiastically greeting the young woman and the baby. “I’d started to think Charles had made you up and that it was all just a fantasy in his head.” A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips at the indignant expression on Charles’s face at his younger brother’s words.

“Yes, every call with Charles was a constant Y/N this, Ginny that.” Lorenzo added, being the last one Y/N and Ginny greeted.

Charles rolled his eyes, though he never lost his smile. "He's exaggerating."

Arthur stifled a laugh, "No, he's not exaggerating at all, you're his favorite topic of conversation."

Y/N couldn't help but smile as she saw Charles' cheeks flush at his brothers' comments, but the Monegasque stopped trying to deny it; it was in vain when it was clear that his brothers were only telling the truth.

During lunch everything flowed smoothly, to the point that Y/N was surprised by how easily Charles's family had included them and how well they had adapted to the Leclerc’s dynamic, especially Ginny who in the middle of lunch had ended up in Pascale's arms and even Arthur and Lorenzo while chatting about a wide variety of topics.

Pascale had asked Y/N about her work, her days, her routine with the baby, all in a calm and pleasant manner, without going too far at any time, while Arthur and Lorenzo took turns making Ginny laugh, enjoying the baby's reactions every time one of them made a strange face.

And Charles simply observed everything.

She watched as her family interacted with Y/N and Ginny, as if the two of them had always belonged there.

Their eyes met toward the end of lunch as they enjoyed dessert, and without needing a word from him, Charles noticed how comfortable and happy Y/N was surrounded by his family, how her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed with laughter for his siblings. Because for the first time in quite some time, Y/N felt not like a stranger or an outsider, but as if she and Ginny had always been part of the family.

And it was, because even if Charles didn't say it out loud, in his heart it was more than clear that the two of them were his family.

Just as they had met Charles's family, they had also come to know his world, his work, or at least a version of it. Charles had invited them to a race, not to the paddock, not to that part of his world yet because he knew how overwhelming it could be for Y/N especially, but to the experience of seeing everything up close, enjoying the knowledge that they were in the same place as him, cheering for him, with seats in the stands in special locations and wearing T-shirts with the Ferrari logo and his number. Ginny had been fitted with slightly oversized headphones, which Charles had placed on her kneeling in front of her, adjusting them very carefully while whispering, "The noises are too loud for these little ears."

They spent months living in different continents, between different time zones, a routine full of commitments and responsibilities, but somehow they had managed to make it work.

Time where the closeness and understanding between Y/N and Charles only grew stronger, as did his bond with Ginny. Charles had learned how to soothe Ginny to sleep by gently humming songs over video calls, how to give Y/N space and when to take things a step further, when to joke and when to listen attentively. Y/N, in turn, had learned many things from him, such as how his voice changed after a bad race, how he tended to joke and laugh like a child when nervous, and how he pretended not to be worried when something happened so that she wouldn't worry either.

The connection between them was incredible, very special for both of them, and it was out of fear of ruining it that neither had tried to move forward even though each of them was clear about their own feelings for the other.

Y/N had already accepted the undeniable fact weeks ago.

It had happened one ordinary afternoon, when she leaned his body against the kitchen door frame, seeing Charles inside, his sleeves rolled up, holding Ginny with one arm while with the other he stirred whatever he was cooking, something he had learned through trial and error, mostly errors where more than one meal had ended up burnt.

A laugh burst from Ginny's lips as she reached for Charles's face with her hands, her small fingers pinching the Monegasque's nose, stealing a carefree laugh from him, "That nose is supposed to be mine, you little thief."

That's when Y/N noticed it, she felt it.

Her heart was racing as she tried to put a name to what her eyes were seeing, to what she was feeling.

The word "friendship" had long since fallen short. Because friends didn't learn the way Ginny liked to cuddle up to sleep while watching a movie. Friends didn't show up at your apartment for dinner and help put the baby to sleep after extremely long flights after races. Friends didn't look at you and your daughter as if you were the most important thing in their lives, as if they were willing to drop everything for you.

And friends don't make you feel that way.

Y/N no longer considered Charles just a friend. Charles was someone she loved, someone she thought about constantly, someone she saw in her future.

Y/N had ended up hopelessly in love with Charles.

And she didn't know how long she could hide her feelings without ruining everything that had happened in those months, because yes, Charles was involved, he wanted to be a part of both their lives and support them, and he was constantly worried about their well-being. But was there something more? Or was it just her mind twisting reality and seeing the possibility of romance in someone who was only kind and compassionate?

The answer wouldn't take too long to reach her.

The article was published on a Thursday morning and Charles was the first to see it.

He was having coffee in his apartment kitchen when his phone started vibrating quite insistently, one notification after another arriving until it became impossible to ignore.

His name was in large letters, accompanied by a few blurry photos. One showed him unmistakably, wearing a cap as he pushed Ginny's stroller down one of the Italian town's streets, his head slightly tilted as he listened to Y/N speaking beside him. Another image, a bit blurry from the zoom, showed him holding Ginny in his arms, the little girl's face indistinct, while Y/N looked at the flowers at a stall a few blocks away from the young woman's apartment.

And in the middle of the page, the headline.

Charles Leclerc and his secret life outside the paddock: a woman, a baby and too many questions.

The Monegasque pressed his lips into a thin line, utterly disgusted by what he was reading. The article was structured in such a way that, while not illegal, it was far too intrusive, especially for Y/N and Ginny, even without mentioning their names directly, although unnecessary because the photos were more than enough. The article discussed a mysterious girl, a baby never before seen in his arms, and what that could mean for his image and career, offering vague but suspiciously accurate details about Y/N and Ginny's situation, and theorizing about how they could have come into his life.

Charles felt so disgusted. They had exposed not only his privacy but also Y/N's and Ginny's, dragged them out into the open as if they were a dark secret when in reality it was quite the opposite. The things they said about the two of them, comments about how Y/N seemed to have taken advantage of him, and comments about Ginny's paternity, wondering if it had been an attempt by Y/N to trap Charles.

No, he couldn't read any more of that.

Charles had kept them as hidden as possible because he wanted to enjoy them in peace. His selfish side didn't want the world to know about them, wanting to keep them to himself a little longer before he finally mustered the courage to confess his feelings for the girl and then make his little family public. But everything had fallen apart with that article.

He stared at his cell phone screen for a few more seconds until he finally closed the article, quickly searching for the Y/N's contact to call her, knowing that she would probably take a while to answer since she was already working at the pharmacy and Ginny was in the nursery.

It rang once, twice, three times and four times until finally Y/N answered his call.

“Charles,” Y/N said, and that word alone, the tone of her voice, was enough for Charles to understand that she had already seen the article.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I swear…”

“It’s not your fault, Charles, none of this is. You weren’t the one who published that article,” the girl said softly, letting out a sigh. “I… I didn’t understand anything. Suddenly, I started getting messages and calls from people I don’t even know. I don’t even know how they found my number.”

“I’m going to take care of this,” Charles said desperately, his coffee and breakfast completely forgotten. “I’ll talk to Ferrari and the people in charge of these things, and the legal team too. I’m going to release a statement. I won’t let them drag you into this, let them talk about you like that.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh. “I think it’s a bit late for that, Charles, they’ve already done it.”

They both remained silent, listening only to each other's breathing through the line for what seemed like an eternity until Charles finally broke the silence. "Can I come see you? So we can talk about this? I don't want to do it over the phone, I... I need to see you."

For several seconds Charles received no response until finally Y/N spoke, "Yes, that's fine, I can close the shop for a little while."

With a “I’m on my way,” Charles hung up and quickly grabbed his car keys to speed off to Y/N’s workplace, where it had all started. He might get a speeding ticket or two, but that was the least of his worries, his priority was this situation and the two girls.

By the time Charles arrived at the pharmacy, he noticed that the windows had their blinds down and there was a sign on the door that read "I'll be back in an hour," so he approached the door and tapped it with his hand to announce his presence to Y/N.

When the girl opened the door, the first thing Charles noticed was that her eyes were slightly red and her cheeks wet. She had been crying, Y/N had cried because of him, and his heart broke into a thousand pieces at the sight. All Charles wanted to do at that moment was pull her close and hold her tight, tell her that everything was going to be alright and that he would make sure no one ever did anything like that again, but instead, his mouth acted before his brain.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping into the pharmacy with the girl. “I’m sorry this happened. I never meant for you to be exposed like this.”

Y/N nodded, standing before him, her arms crossed over her chest, as if she were shielding herself not only from the rest of the world but also from him. And that was a hard blow for the Monegasque because if there was anything that pained him it was the fact that Y/N didn't feel safe with him.

“I already told you that you don’t have to apologize, Charles. You didn’t do anything,” the young woman murmured. “It’s just… it took me by surprise. I understand that it’s part of your world, I truly do, and I knew it was something that could happen at some point, but I didn’t think it would be like this.” The Monegasque easily noticed how the girl’s voice trembled as she spoke, and his heart ached at this. “It doesn’t bother me that they talk about me like that. I’m used to being judged, to people thinking badly of me, but Ginny? No, I can’t stand it. I can’t watch them talk about my baby like that. The things they said about her… they were awful, Charles,” the young woman finished, bursting into tears, and Charles could no longer hold back.

The Monegasque approached the girl and wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes tightly as he felt Y/N's body tremble from crying.

“You have no idea how sorry I am, Y/N. The disgust I felt when I read that article... no one should be able to talk about you or Ginevra like that. They don't know you, they have no right to say all those things about you without consequences.” He paused, resting his head on Y/N's, whose face remained hidden against his chest. “I'm going to make sure this is resolved, that the article is taken down, and that those responsible for it face consequences.”

Finally, Y/N stirred, so Charles loosened his grip, allowing the girl to move away a little, facing him again, her eyes a little more swollen.

“Do you really think that will change anything, Charles? By the time that article is taken down, new ones will appear. It’s too late, they already have what they wanted.” The woman bit her lower lip hard, remaining silent for a few seconds, weighing what to say. “Perhaps… Perhaps Ginny and I should take a step back? I don’t want your image to be tarnished because of us…”

"Y/N…"

“Perhaps all of this was…”

“No, don’t even say it,” Charles stopped her firmly. “It’s not fair, not fair to you, or to Ginny, or to me. It wasn’t a mistake, none of this was, and I don’t want you to think that choosing to get close to you and involve you in my life was a mistake because it wasn’t, I’m very sure of that, I confirm it every day.” The Monegasque took a small step toward Y/N, his eyes fixed on hers. “I tried to go slowly, I tried to do it the best way I could. I tried to maintain the position of the friend, believing that if I didn’t say anything, if I didn’t show everything I wanted, I wouldn’t scare you and you wouldn’t run away.”

Y/N watched him without saying anything, not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't quite know what to say, and Charles took advantage of that to continue talking, a bitter laugh escaping his lips, "And it turns out that in the end I still managed to scare you. I just wanted to do everything the right way, and in the process I ended up hurting you, and Ginny too."

Y/N's heart rate increased with each word Charles spoke, as the man slowly drew closer to her.

“I can’t keep pretending, I can’t keep acting like nothing’s wrong when everything is wrong,” he said, never taking his eyes off her, as if the answers to all his problems lay in her gaze. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

It was as if the world had stopped. Those words alone were enough to make Y/N's heart threaten to leap from her chest.

Charles Leclerc was in love with her.

“It wasn’t how I expected it to go. Everything happened so fast that I thought if I said or did anything too much, it would all fall apart, but that’s how it is,” he paused, noticing Y/N’s surprised expression. “I’m in love with you. I feel things for you that I never imagined I could feel in my life. My heart is bursting with the love I feel for you and for Ginny. Because I love that baby, not just because she’s your daughter, but because from the first moment I saw her in the hospital room she had already won my heart. I love you both madly. You’ve become a part of my life, and the mere thought of you disappearing from it, of you being taken away from me, causes me indescribable pain.” He raised his hand to his chest, where his heart was, so that the young woman would understand what he meant.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, blurring her vision, but despite that she could see the expression on Charles's face, the sincerity in his words, the love in his eyes.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Charles added quickly. “I… I needed you to know, and I needed you to hear it from me, not from some headline or stupid rumor going around. I needed you to know that my heart beats for you, that you’re the most important thing I have. And that I could never blame you for the things the press says. I know you, Y/N, and I’m pretty sure I could never think of you and Ginny as a mistake.”

Charles couldn't stop, not when he had so much to say, not when his heart had been begging him for months to please release all those feelings that had been bottled up inside him. "When I leave your apartment after spending the whole day with you... I do it because it's what I'm supposed to do, not because I want to distance myself from you, but because I don't want to cross any boundaries, I don't want to do anything that's not right for you. Every time I have to walk through that door to leave everything inside me begs me not to, to turn around and come back to you, because you're all I can think about, you're the ones I want to be with."

The Monegasque took one last step towards her, trying to control the urge he had to touch her, to feel the brush of her skin, "I can't keep pretending this is just a simple friendship, something casual, not when all I do is think about how much I'd like to go a step further, to take it to the next level."

“I love you,” he said simply. “And I love Ginny too, and I understand it’s a lot to take in, it’s terrifying, especially after that article, but… it’s how I feel and is real.”

Tears streamed down Y/N's cheeks, her lower lip trembling slightly.

It was then that Y/N was finally able to speak, her voice coming out broken by all the emotions she was experiencing at that moment.

“I’m scared,” the girl whispered. “I’m scared of how much I love you.”

Charles swore his heart stopped that very instant. She loved him, Y/N loved him.

“Me too,” he replied. “But I’m much more afraid of losing you two.”

A sweet smile blossomed on Y/N's lips, and it was that smile, along with the words she said afterward, that stirred a myriad of emotions in Charles, "You're not going to lose us, Charles, not when we love you madly too."

Y/N was the first to make a move, not a direct one, but an approach nonetheless. Close enough for Charles to feel the warmth emanating from her body, to smell the scent of her perfume, that sweet perfume that drove him wild whenever she was near.

Charles's heart was beating quickly, as if it was running a race; he could almost feel it leaping from his chest. Slowly, the boy raised his hand, careful not to startle her, giving her the chance to pull away if she wished, until his fingers brushed her cheek with a gentleness that took her breath away.

Charles gently cradled her face, as if he were holding something precious, deserving of all the love and care in the world. And she couldn't help it, Y/N leaned into his touch without even thinking, enjoying what that small gesture stirred within her.

He brought his face closer, their foreheads brushing and their noses almost touching, their breaths intertwining.

The kiss began gently.

Not rushed. Not demanding.

Everything in Y/N yield when Charles's lips embraced hers. The world shrank to the warmth of his lips, the firmness of his hands, the way he kissed her as if he were in no hurry, as if he had nowhere else to be but with her in his arms, kissing her.

And Charles felt everything inside him relax, his mind only able to think about how soft Y/N's lips were against his, the small, almost imperceptible sigh she had let out, how she had moved closer to him. His grip on her grew firmer, not in a possessive way, but as a reminder that it was real, that it was truly happening and not just another one of his dreams.

And then the kiss deepened, becoming more intense. It was the perfect embodiment of all the feelings they had held back for months.

A small, incredulous laugh escaped Y/N's lips as they finally separated, "I've been wanting to do that for a while."

Charles gazed at her with eyes full of love, a radiant smile accompanying that look, "Me too, for a long time... And now I don't want to stop," he whispered before attacking Y/N's lips again, a sound of satisfaction bursting from his own as she raised her hands to place them on his shoulders and lightly pulled the hair at the nape of his neck.

When that second kiss ended, neither of them pulled away, neither dared to move. They stayed close, their hands still on each other's bodies, their breaths quickening, their eyes locked.

They had never felt this way before. They didn't want the moment to end.

“God, I feel like I should have done this a lot sooner,” the girl murmured, stealing a laugh from Charles.

“Yes, maybe… but now that it happened there’s no reason to stop,” Charles gently touched his nose to hers, remaining silent for a moment before finally speaking again. “Are we on the same page, Y/N?”

Y/N giggled, "Are you seriously asking me that?"

Charles shrugged, smiling too, “I just… I just want to be sure we’re both aiming for the same thing. I don’t want to rush you or put a label on this before you’re ready. But I do want to be sure it’s something we’re both choosing.”

Y/N could swear that her heart melted with tenderness.

“I don’t want something casual, Charles. I don’t want something fleeting,” the tension in Charles’s shoulders lessened noticeably. “I want everything with you.”

“Good, cool, that’s… excellent,” he blurted out, making her laugh at his nervous delivery. “Together, we’re together,” he smiled, then placed a fleeting kiss on Y/N’s lips, “And that means I’m not just here for you, but for her too, for both of you. I want to be part of your little family of two Y/N.”

“I think we stopped being just Ginny and me a while ago; it’s been the three of us for a long time.”

A radiant smile spread across Charles's face, thrilled, almost unable to believe that it was really happening.

“We are a family.”

“We are.”

BONUS #1: when they met some of the drivers.

Despite having seen it through the broadcasts numerous times, the paddock in person was far more intense than Y/N had imagined.

The sound of engines in the distance, overlapping voices in languages she couldn't even recognize, the constant movement of people with merchandise from different teams, banners, flags, and passes. It was overwhelming and exciting at the same time.

Ginny, in Charles' arms, seemed to believe it was the best place on Earth.

The little girl wore a Ferrari tracksuit, its sleeves rolled up twice because they were too long, along with a miniature version of Charles's cap and the special headphones the Monegasque driver had gotten especially for her. With every step they took, Ginny pointed to something new, babbling excitedly, some words understandable, others unintelligible. All the while, she enjoyed the snacks Y/N had packed in a small tupperware container for her to eat during the walk to the hospitality area.

“Okay,” Charles chuckled, the excitement evident in his tone of voice and his face. “I think she likes all this, a little too much.”

Y/N smiled, taking the opportunity to adjust Ginny's cap and Charles's as well, which had slipped back slightly when the little girl's headphones bumped against it. Unlike Ginny, Y/N still felt a bit out of place, but the way Charles kept glancing at her, asking if she was okay, making sure she was close enough to understand everything they were seeing while holding her hand with his free hand made everything much easier.

Everything with Charles was easier, simpler.

Even when the situation seemed too much, Charles found a way to overcome it, to adapt and move on, together.

“Ready?” the driver questioned, stopping near the Ferrari hospitality area, his gaze falling on two of the most important women in his life.

“Mhm, I think we’re ready,” Y/N replied smiling as Ginny nodded energetically.

However, they did not manage to enter the place, because it was then that another driver approached them smiling.

“Are these the famous Y/N and Ginny I’ve heard so much about?” Carlos stood next to them, patting Charles on the back in greeting.

Charles nodded, moving so they could both see the Spanish driver, his voice filled with pride and affection. “That’s right. Carlos, I’d like you to meet my girls.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N.”

“I say the same, Carlos,” the girl replied sweetly.

“And little Ginny, hello…” he said softly, not wanting to frighten her, reaching out to gently squeeze her cheek.

Ginny let out a giggle, hiding her face in embarrassment, but it didn't last long because seconds later the little girl shyly watched him, bringing the tupperware container with the snacks closer to him, as if she was offering him one.

“I think I’ve been accepted, haven’t I?”

Y/N and Charles burst out laughing, "Yes, I think so, Ginny is quite territorial with her snacks."

Noticing the stuffed horse, Carlos crouched down a little to be at the little girl's level, even though she was still in Charles’s arms. "Ginny, do you like unicorns? I think I could get you a Sparkles plushie and a matching Williams t-shirt too. What do you think?"

“Don’t even think about it Carlos,” Charles replied, completely serious, as if Carlos had insulted his entire family. Y/N stifled a laugh, but Carlos didn’t bother to hide it, letting out a laugh that caught the attention of a small group of pilots passing by.

“Oh… So we finally brought the family to the paddock, it was about time we met the famous Y/N and Ginny.” George was the first to speak about the newcomers as everyone introduced themselves to the two of them.

Max observed the tracksuit the little girl was wearing along with the cap with the number 16 embroidered on it, “The brainwashing has already begun. Y/N, don't let him lead her astray.”

Charles rolled his eyes as Y/N giggled, "Just so you know, Ginny chose it herself, she's smarter than all of you."

“Mhm…” Max murmured not believing the Ferrari driver at all, smiling as he watched the little girl laugh at the faces Kimi and Ollie were making. “I’m sure that later on she and Lily could be good friends. Lily is still too young to understand what’s going on around her.”

Y/N smiled tenderly, "I'm dying to meet her, Charles showed me the photos you uploaded to your private account, she's so cute."

A smile instantly spread across Max's face. "She is, she's beautiful. Kelly will love to organize a lunch with both families together. You can bring Leo along to spend time with Nino. Penelope will be thrilled with them."

“Consider it done,” was Charles’s reply.

“Oscah!” That shout and Ginny’s laughter caught their attention, noticing that the McLaren driver was approaching with a papaya paper bag in his hands.

“Since when are they so close?” Carlos muttered a little suspiciously, he was supposed to be the only one of the drivers there that Ginny liked, which made the rookies that where there laugh.

All the drivers there watched as the little girl reached out to the Australian, opening and closing her fingers in the air, a clear sign that she wanted him to hold her. And so he did, handing the bag to Lily, who had arrived with him. Oscar lifted Ginny, placing a small kiss on her head and beginning to talk to her, Y/N, and Lily.

“She met Oscar a few weeks ago, and they’ve been spending time playing together when they come to our house. Y/N and Lily met because we bumped into them at the supermarket, and they became fast friends, so whenever she and Oscar are in Monaco, they come to our house for lunch, or we go to theirs,” Charles explained, smiling as he watched Oscar hand Ginny a koala plush toy, the same one he had promised her several days earlier. “Let’s just say Oscar… is her favorite, after me, of course.”

“I need to get a Sparkles plushie right now,” grumbled the Spanish driver as he saw Ginny handing Oscar her snacks, causing a wave of laughter among the others.

BONUS #2: when your mouth and heart work faster than your brain.

Several months later.

The press conference was quite relaxed. Zandvoort always had a different, lighter, almost playful energy, and the questions asked by the journalists reflected that.

Someone at the back of the room raised their hand, drawing the attention of those present.

“Charles, one last question before we go,” the Monegasque shifted slightly in his seat, trying to see who was asking the question until he finally noticed it was a relatively young journalist, wearing a suit and with a friendly smile. “Have you eaten any stroopwafels yet? Or are you going to be strong enough to stick to your diet and not give in to temptation?”

A wave of laughter rippled through the room, including Charles's, his eyes crinkling in the process. "I have to admit I was weak and gave in even before I reached the paddock," he said, more laughter filling the room at the sight of the Ferrari driver's expression. "In my defense, they're everywhere. Everywhere you look there's a stand with a delicious, mouth-watering aroma," he continued, amused. "And my daughter loves them, although my wife isn't too keen on them. She says we shouldn't consume so much sugar."

The words left his mouth without much effort, as if it were completely normal, as if they were something natural to him.

A silence settled over the place. It wasn't uncomfortable or hostile, but rather one of surprise.

Charles parted his lips slightly and then closed them again, realizing what he'd said. A small smile appeared, his eyes twinkled with nervousness and mischief, and his cheeks flushed slightly. Flashes of light went off immediately, and the journalists exchanged glances, waiting to see who would be brave enough to ask the question they were all thinking.

“Your daughter?” one of them asked carefully.

“And your wife?” added another in the same tone, both smiling kindly.

The driver watched the reporters, thinking of his next words, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

“Okay,” he said, shaking his head and smiling shyly. “I think that came out a little sooner than expected.” The atmosphere in the room more relaxed, giving Charles a chance to continue his answer. “Y/N isn’t my wife yet,” he clarified calmly, his voice soft and his expression gentle. “But she is my partner, and Ginny is our daughter.”

“So, you’re not married?” another, slightly older journalist tried to press.

“No,” Charles replied honestly. “Not yet.”

There it was again. Yet.

"Should we expect wedding bells soon then?"

Charles laugh, even if he tried to hide it he couldn't, his eyes, sparkling with excitement, betrayed how much the idea thrilled him. "I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true, it won't be long before it happens."

A wave of murmurs filled the room, which was now much warmer and lighter.

Because although it hadn't been a formal announcement to the public, Charles had made his feelings clear with that slip of tongue.

Charles had been thinking of Y/N as his wife and Ginny as his daughter for a long time.

He belonged to them in heart and soul, to his little family.

“Charles,” a much deeper voice broke the silence. “Do you think that when that happens it could affect your career? How would that fit in marriage, fatherhood…would your priorities change?”

A new silence fell over the room, this time much more tense because of what the question implied: that Y/N and Ginny could be a distraction for him.

Charles frowned and his expression hardened, there was no trace left of the bright smile he had worn seconds before.

“No,” he replied without hesitation. “If anything, it would help clarify my priorities. I remain fully committed to the competition, the sport, and my role as a Ferrari driver. The difference is that now I have two more reasons to give my all in every race, to race with all my heart, knowing that my biggest supporters, my girls, are waiting for me and hoping I win. They motivate me because I want them to be proud of me.”

“Does your daughter like to watch the races, Charles?” Charles’s gaze softened at the question posed by a journalist, his posture relaxing slightly.

“Yes, she doesn’t understand much yet, but she likes watching the cars, and when I watch replays of the races or qualifying to study what could have gone better or what changes I should make, she sits next to me,” the Monegasque smiled as he thought of Ginny with the plushie horse, the one he had given her at her birth, trapped in her arms as she watched attentively the things Charles was writing down or what he was telling Bryan via video call while they analyzed the most important details.

“Which is her favorite team?”

A laugh burst from Charles' lips, "Ferrari, always Ferrari."

"Do you think she'll choose to be a driver like you someday?"

“I don’t know, that will be her decision. I don’t intend to force her into anything,” he paused briefly, adjusting himself in his seat. “Of course, if she followed in my footsteps, it would be an honor. But whatever she decides will be fine. I’ll be just as proud of her and her growth, pilot, artist, writer, professional, whatever she decides, we’ll be there with her mother to support her every step of the way.”

A new silence, but now it was calm, charged with emotion by the driver's words.

“Any more questions? Otherwise I’ll go back to Ferrari’s hospitality. I promised my girls we’d have lunch together, and we agreed that if I was late then I wouldn’t get a stroopwafel for dessert.”

Laughter echoed throughout the place as they saw the expression on the Monegasque's face when he thought about the possibility of missing out on dessert, completely serious about it.

“We won’t keep you any longer, Charles, thank you very much. You are now free to go with your family.”