Go for it, Charles!
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Chapter Synopsis: Making up over hot meals.
Warning: None
Word Count: 2711
Chapter: 5
Most mornings at home back in Monaco, Charles usually wakes up to Leo licking his face with his cute little barks. It never fails to set his mood right for the day. But right now, he is reminded that he is in your apartment when he feels a furball cuddling to his chest, Lily’s fur tickling his face.
Charles smiles, she warmed up to him finally.
He rubs her forehead with a finger and Lily opens her eyes briefly before closing them again. “Found a new bed to sleep in?” Charles chuckles before yawning. He carefully holds her and sets her beside him when he sits up. “Where’s your mama?”
Lily ignores him and continues to stay curled up, taking her nap. Charles checks his watch and figures you might be at work already. He sighs at the thought of last night.
He really messed up yesterday. If he is back home, it would be easier to make up with you. He could just buy you a gift or take you out to a nice restaurant. Charles leans back on the sofa, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
You were being so kind to him, how could he act in such an ungrateful way? Meal prepping is not that bad, he was just dramatic about it yesterday. Besides you only make it for three days and like you said, you don’t just make one dish.
“I was so rude.” He groans, facepalming.
Charles gets up and stretches, he decides to head to your kitchen first for a glass of water. As he gulps it down his parched throat, his eyes catch a kraft sticky note plastered on the refrigerator. He walks over and squints his eyes at your neat handwriting.
There’s food in the fridge. Feel free to eat anything you want.
Be back later in the evening.
Well that’s a good sign right? You leaving notes for him? Does that mean you’re no longer mad?
But then again you are a very nice person. Despite being crossed with him, it seems very much like you to reassure him that he can take whatever he wants from the fridge. Charles takes the sticky note and folds it with a smile, debating whether to throw it or keep it. With much reluctance, he throws it but a smile is on his face as he opens the fridge.
Avocado toast perhaps? They’re quick enough to make and he can’t mess them up. He just had yogurt and an apple last night so he was craving calories.
Charles also helps himself to a cup of coffee. His brows raise in silent appreciation for your taste in coffee.
After having his breakfast, Charles made sure to clean up, just eliminating anything that would piss you off.
There really wasn’t much to do now that you went away for work. He can’t really expect you to put everything down to accommodate him. You’re already doing so much for him. So Charles decides to entertain himself.
He debated on watching movies on your tv but he doesn’t feel like sitting down for the entire day. He went around your apartment, looking at every book you have in your bookshelf, having a loose grasp on your taste in literature. He admires himself in the mirror in your dining room. He also visited your office, arms crossed as he looked at your products. Charles got one scrunchie and stretched it around his fingers before his attention moved on to a different item. There’s a bunch of stickers too. Did you make these?
Charles looked at every sticker sheet you have and even wanted some for himself but where would he stick them? On your walls? He chuckles at his own silly internal narratives before moving on to your packing area. You are very organized, he notices.
Something soft rubs on his leg and he looks down to see Lily staring up at him before meowing loudly.
“Hi.” He says with his voice slightly becoming high pitched and picks her up. “Are you even allowed in here?”
Charles carries her outside and closes the door behind him. “What do you want? Snacks?” Charles sets her down on the floor and heads to the kitchen where he last saw you get her food. “You’re a big cat already so I don’t think it is good for you to be eating three times a day.” But he does give her a bit of dry cat food.
Charles sits crossed legged and watches Lily eat. “Listen, since I gave you what you wanted, you got to help me out too.” He runs his hand on Lily’s back. “You need to help me with your mama.”
He’s being ridiculous, asking help from a cat and sitting on your kitchen floor like some helpless man. Well, in some sense, he is a helpless man.
Lily was licking her paws now.
“You see, I made her very upset yesterday. I didn't do it intentionally of course.” Charles added the last sentence like he is afraid of being judged by a cat. Lily does have a gaze that constantly makes you feel judged.
“And I don’t know what to do now.” He raises both hands in the air in surrender. “I liked being able to laugh with her.” Lily immediately leaves after grooming herself, making Charles frown. “Oh come on now, I was talking to you.”
He gets up with a groan and follows Lily. Charles doesn’t say anything until she enters the cat door to the laundry room. He didn’t notice that. “What are you doing here?” He sees Lily walking over to a plant you have before circling it and disappearing behind it. “Wha- Lily?” Charles turns the pot, overestimating its weight, using too much strength that he fell on his butt and jostling Lily inside who meows sharply. Oh is this her litter box?
Charles holds his laughter. He really wishes you don’t have cameras around the house. It’s barely even lunch time but he has made quite a few questionable actions already.
This is really clever. He hopes he can get Leo to do the same. The little devil used to pee everywhere. Ah, Leo. If there was one thing that Charles regretted about this entire situation, it was leaving Leo behind. He’s sure that his team or his mom would take care of him but to be abandoned by his dad like that. Charles shakes his head, not wanting to dwell in things he cannot control right now.
To pass time, Charles decided on exercising in your living room. He plans to stay in shape despite this total change of routine. Lily was very interested in what he’s doing though, he had to pry her off him to finish his sit ups multiple times.
When it’s finally night time, Charles was feeling a bit unnerved. You’ll be back soon. You just said evening in your note, you didn’t specify what time. Why didn’t you specify what time? At least he could have prepared better!
He’s sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his thighs with his foot tapping nonstop for a while now. He looks up when he hears cars passing by but goes back to staring at your floor after not recognizing the engine sound.
Give or take half an hour later, which felt longer for him than it actually was, he hears the familiar sound of your car and at the last minute he stands up and heads to your kitchen, deciding that it’s a good time to have a glass of water. That way it won’t look like he’s waiting for you, right?
He watches the glass slowly get filled up as he hears the front door open. Charles sips slowly as he hears your footsteps and when he looks up, there you are, in your scrub suit, carrying a rather large bag, looking all tired and sleepy.
“Hi.” You say.
Charles wipes his mouth and sets the glass down on the counter, he didn’t miss how your eyes flit to the glass. “Hi. How was work?” He asks, trying to sound excited. He’s glad you started the conversation, making it easier for him to communicate.
“Shit. Some kid dislocated an arm after falling off the monkey bars in the playpark. It looked super gnarly.” You say as you disappear off to your bedroom. He quickly washes the glass as you continue talking. “This guy who had kidney stones just can’t decide whether to be treated or not and the stone went and traveled up his penis.”
Charles grimaces as he stands outside your room now, watching you organize your bag before disappearing to your walk in closet.
“And that’s only the minor surgeries. We had not one but two thyroidectomies today.” You start rambling as you pass him and head to the bathroom. “Ugh people should learn to eat seafood in moderation.” And you shut the door in his face.
Well…that was a good start…right?
He walks around your living room in slow circles, his arms crossed. Lily was looking at him boredly. When the bathroom door opens, you’re in more comfortable clothing, looking refreshed from your day at work.
Charles watches you dump your scrubs in the hamper in the laundry room and you stay still for the first time since you came home.
“What do you want to have for dinner?”
You aren’t even being rude, simply just…asking.
“There is no need.” Charles says quickly, starting to feel bad again. “I mean, you’re already tired.”
“Well I need dinner too so I have to cook.” You smile at him and his lips press to a line.
“I’ll help you.” He offers and you nod.
You head back to your room to grab your lunchbox and tumbler. “If you still feel bad about yesterday, don’t worry about it, I was just PMSing.”
“What is that?” He asks, genuinely clueless. “I can wash those.” Charles gestures to your lunchbox.
“Thanks.” You say as you place your stuff near the sink and he immediately starts washing them. “It’s mood and hormonal changes before starting my period.”
So that was like a free trial? He sucks in a breath through grimaced teeth, not even wanting to think about how you’d be with your period in.
“I’m making pasta.” You hum as you start pulling ingredients from the fridge. You pull out a rather huge saucepan and Charle’s eyes widen a fraction. “I’ll make enough for four servings if you’re okay with refrigerated food now.” He knows you’re just teasing but he tongues his cheek.
“Yeah, yeah. No problem.” He answers quickly, not wanting to bite at your playful provocation. Besides, he is busy looking at the ingredients placed on the table. There’s too much of it? He doesn’t think some of them would go well with pasta. A loud sizzle makes him look up to see you cooking ground beef. “What’s with all of the other ingredients?”
You smile at him as you fetch a colander to wash the ingredients left on the table. “I will be showing you the beauty of meal prepping.” You pull out two chopping boards from your cupboard and fetch two knives with a single hand. How women could manage to hold so much in their hands, he would never understand.
“You slice the potatoes in half so they’d cook faster. While I cut up the other veggies and season the chicken.” You say as you bend to check something in the oven. He would be lying if he'd say his eyes didn’t wander.
It was a bit overwhelming at first what you’re doing, with so much stuff going on but you don’t look bothered at all. Just as you started focusing on the pasta, he finished with the potatoes, you were quicker than him of course, already managed to add spices on chicken breasts and lay them out perfectly on a baking sheet along with the perfectly cut vegetables.
The entire apartment smelled divine by the time you put in the chicken and vegetables in the oven. He stands right next to you, watching you stir the pasta shells in the sauce, the garlic and cheese making his mouth water.
Yup that looks like something he’d like to have again tomorrow.
“Can you fill those two glass containers with pasta?” You look up to him with your big pleading eyes and he stares longer than he should before nodding dumbly. “I need to make overnight oats. Do you want some?”
“Yeah.” Charles nods while doing as you asked. By the time you’re both done, there’s only the roasted chicken and potatoes.
“Let’s eat?” You say excitedly as you put the pasta on two plates, your serving very generous. Charles initiates grabbing forks for the both of you. You let him have the first bite and smile really proudly when he closes his eyes and groans.
He spews a lot of words in French and you laugh lightly.
“Is it good?”
“Is it good? Yes, it’s good!” He scoops another forkful to his mouth. Exhaling an airy parseltongue when the sauce inside the pasta shells burns his tongue.
“Careful now.” You say while pushing the glass of water to him but he shakes his head and continues eating. “I’m glad you like it.”
It’s probably because it’s been a while since he had a real meal but you do enjoy his reaction to your cooking. You eat your own serving. Getting up halfway to put the roasted chicken and potatoes along with other vegetables in four glass containers.
“Pick out whatever you want for lunch and dinner tomorrow.” You tell him as you get back to the table with a bottle of white wine along with a pair of long stemmed glasses.
“Yes of course, thank you.” Charles nods gratefully, chewing quietly and just stares at you having your pasta. Your eyes are a bit droopy already. “I’m so sorry I had to make you cook on a work day.”
You open the bottle and you pour him and yourself a glass of wine. “It’s okay, really. I had fun, besides, I got to sit most of the time because you helped.” He was feeling really proud of that. You offer him his glass and you both raise your glasses before taking a sip.
“I can help more.” He tells you. “I can do the dishes.”
“Oh you’re Godsent, Charles.” You tell him. You’re not about to pass up this opportunity. You hate doing the dishes. “I’ll be packing orders in the meantime.” You do help in stacking the dishes and pots in a way that is convenient for him to wash though. You gave him a few instructions where to store the dishes after he dries them. “You should probably wear this plastic apron.”
Charles accepts it with a confused look on his face. “Why?”
“You’ll see why.”
You leave him after that to hole up in your office to pack a few orders. After sealing the current order you are working with, you stretch in your seat. A knock in the doorway startles you and you see Charles looking at you with a kind smile, with only minimal wet patches on his sweatpants.
“Shouldn’t it be your bedtime? You have to wake up early tomorrow.”
You yawn immediately as he mentions it. “You’re right. I’ll just finish up tomorrow…or on Thursday.”
He walks with you to your room. “Your customers are fine with that, right?” He just had to ask, he knows that people are not very patient when it comes to online shopping.
“I have a disclaimer in my website that all my products are shipped in three to five days.” You tell him as you reach your bedroom. You stand there, just facing each other. For a moment you just rock on your feet as your hands twist the doorknob awkwardly. “Well, goodnight. Thanks for helping me in the kitchen.”
“No problem.” He nods at you. Finding your antics endearing. “Good night.”
You smile at him one last time before closing the door. As the door clicks into place, Charles pumps his fist in the air.
This night ended way better than he hoped and he couldn’t be more glad.
Overdrive
