Pride

It's been ten years.

It's been ten years since Jules Bianchi left, with the incident happened in Suzuka.

Charles can't deny that he, to some degree, is kind of afraid of Suzuka. Not because of the possibility of having another crash, it's not a safe issue. It's just that the cercuit itself reminds him of Jules, reminds him of the younger days he had with the Bianchi's.

And it hurts still.

The rusult was dissapointing, again. Another P4, after the magniloquence he made before the race, of which he would take the highest step of the podium for Jules. What a joke, Charles thinks, he didn't even get on the podium. It should be Jules who now having this Ferrari seat, instead of him, a wasted driver that can't even honor his godfather. The Monagasque locks himself in the hotel room, it's more like a habit for him after a bad race result. He has no idea how long he had been tearing before he fall asleep, and Charles doesn't care a bit. He's too tired.

Until a gentle knock on the door to wake him up, " Hey, mate, it's me. Uh, Max. " The sudden awaken doesn't make Charles very happy, especialy from whom took his wish away earlier. Well, it's not Max whom to be blamed actually, it's Charles, he thinks, whilest opening the door for his rival reluctantly.

 " What happened? "

 " Uh, nothing actually, just here to check if you are OK. " 

 Of course he is okay, how can he be less than okay? Charles Leclerc has always to be OK and more. 

" Yeah, I'm OK. "

" Can I come in? " 

Charles let Max in his room, he has no mental strength left to explain to others about the talking, he doesn't even have the idea what Max is going to say next. 

" You gave your all today, I mean, McLaren were just incredibly fast throughout the weekend, weren't they? "

" That's true. " Charles answers, politely, without emotion.

" You're still blaming yourself, right, Charles? "

Max bends over. If Charles looks into his eyes now, he would see the worries inside. But Charles doesn't. He's only staring at his hands. 

" This has nothing to do with you, Max. "

" I'm worried. About you. "

" You don't have to. You won, you are the winner Max Verstappen, you can try any celebration but to come here and pity your rival. "

" I've never pity you, Charles. I… "

Anger burns inside of Charles.

Is this what Max want from him? To mock him in the face? To showing off his another victory?

" You know nothing about me, don't you? "

" You've never lost someone that was so meaningful to you! Just like Jules, like Anthoine, like papa. "

" Not the way like you did. "

" But I'm losing you, Charles. "

Max holds Charles' hands. The later tries to struggle, he's crying, losing all of his strength. And Max holds him into his arms, gently but tightly. Charles has calm down, feeling a bit of embrassment and a lot of sorry. 

And Max continues. 

" That day, in 2014, I was at the track, for free practice. "

" Before the session began, I've met Jules."

Charles of course remembers, that was the time Max took his his first try in F1, but he has never thought about that Max and Jules had a talk. 

" Well, it was not really a talk. Jules just said congrats and something like that. "

" Also he said you would be here, in formula one soon. "

" And you are here, at the moment, driving for your dream. " Max stops for a while, choosing his language. He then looks at Charles.

Charles feels the warmth inside brought by Jules... and Max, the soft heat turning into tears, sliping cross his cheek. He's sadness is nowhere to be found. There were once an empty in Charles' heart ever since Jules' sudden left, but it is now full of gratefulness. Jules believes in him, as always. 

Charles did make it into Formula one, he didn't dissapoint Jules, not at all, not even once.

The Monagasque takes time to regain his words. And this time, Charles looks into Max's torquise, beautiful, and full of love's eyes. He was tearing, but now smiling, it must be a weird emotion, but whatever. 

" Thanks for telling me this, Max. Really, thank you, it means… a lot. "

" And I'm sorry. I know you're not that kind of people, Max. I was just… too lost. I'm so sorry. "

" It's fine. We all have this kind of moments. But I'm glad to be here with you now, being able to hold you from falling apart. " Max smiles, following Charles' one. He holds the younger man's hand tighter, as if he's sending the strength and courage to Charles.

Charles has the impulse to kiss the Dutch, and he does.

It's more than a kiss for thanking a friend, cause Charles also knows that what Max has done wasn't just for a friend.

The night's still long. Charles will have the time to tell the Dutch how he won his heart years ago. With all Max's warmth, same to the ones that he gave Charles everytime when he was down, the brown hair decides to be a little more greedy. He'll stay in Max arms, just for one and another more moment.

" Thank you, Max. For coming here. For having me everytime. " Charles murmurs.

" Anytime. For you, Charles. " 

Max kisses his forehead. Like he's treating a precious.

And Jules would always be proud of you, Charles.