Part 17

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That evening, Lyla found herself sat cross legged on the bed in Charles' hotel room with the Monegasque next to her, lying on his back looking at the ceiling with his hands resting on his stomach. He seemed deep in thought, leaving Lyla to sit in silence next to him, her phone buzzing with different notifications on the bedside table where it was plugged into Charles' charger.

The silence between them was interrupted by the door opening. Lyla turned her head, looking over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow as Pierre and Arden walked into the room.

"How did you two get in?" She asks, turning her whole body towards them.

"It's not hard to get the spare key from reception." Arden smirks at his little sister.

Lyla rolls her eyes, shuffling her body further across the mattress as Pierre threw himself down onto the bed, making the mattress bounce. The Frenchmen lay on his side, propped up on an elbow and smirking down at Charles who had turned his head to face him, raising his eyebrows at the grinning Pierre Gasly.

"Can I help you?" The Monegasque asks.

"How are you feeling?" Pierre questions.

"Honestly?"

"Preferably yes."

"Like shit."

Pierre's smile drops into a frown and Lyla found herself looking at Arden who was leant against the wall. The two siblings were seemingly having a silent conversation with each other about the mental state of their friend before they were cut off with Pierre laughing and Charles muttering curses in French. Lyla turned her head again, grinning at the sight of Pierre tugging Charles into a sitting up position and tackling him into a headlock where he then ruffled the Monegasque's hair.

"You two are like children." Arden states.

"And your not?" Lyla questions, looking back at her brother.

"No." Arden ignores the look running across her features. "Not as bad as those two and Lando."

Lyla hums, gasping when her arm was tugged by Pierre and her body was dragged into the death grip he had around Charles. The Ferrari driver didn't seem to be complaining however, having his head leant against Pierre's shoulder and his arm moving to travel around Lyla as she got caught in the mix.

It was no lie to anyone that the formula one grid was extremely childish. It made sense, especially to people like Lyla who had been around the sport for so long and had even had a chance at getting a career in racing if she had really wanted it.

In the wise words of Toto Wolff: "𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙤-𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙤, 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛, 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡."

"What would we do without our Lyla?" Pierre coos.

"You wouldn't of made it through your teenage years without me." Lyla states confidently.

"I think we would've gone through our teenage years with less stress without you." Charles laughs.

"Yes maybe. But would you be the same people you are today without that stress?"

The two boys were left to think and Lyla caught the eyes of Arden who just shook his head. The young woman managed to break away from the death grip of her honorary brother and best friend, shuffling herself further away from them on the mattress and turning her body around so they could have her full attention.

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