twelve.

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"Caleigh m'a réservé un billet en première classe pour jeudi.."  (Caleigh booked me a first-class ticket for Thursday.)

I was lying on Charles' bed as he packed for the next GP. He was bustling around his room, making sure to collect everything he needed, tucking it into the suitcase lying at the foot of the bed.

"Que veux-tu dire?" (What do you mean?) I sat up to see Charles standing still at the end of the bed, a tshirt limply hanging in his hand.

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Je ne comprends pas pourquoi vous êtes confus." (I don't understand why you're confused.) 

"Je pensais que tu volais avec nous." (I thought you were flying with us.)

He looked... upset?

I shrugged, "Puisque tu pars tôt, je ne savais pas que tu voulais ça. C'est pourquoi j'ai demandé à Caleigh de réserver le billet." (Since you're leaving early, I didn't know you wanted that. That's why I asked Caleigh to book the ticket.)

Charles shook his head, dropping the shirt in the suitcase before crawling onto the bed, "Vous venez avec nous et vous continuerez à le faire lors de chaque prochaine course. J'ai compris?" (You come with us and you will continue to do so in every next race. Got it?) He stopped next to me, lying down so his gaze was level with mine.

That was forward. But knowing the Leclercs, I'm not sure why I hadn't thought about him wanting me to tag along with him. Thinking harder about it, I forgot that Charles always got iffy whenever I travelled alone.

"Donc tu dis que je dois faire mes valises maintenant et pas demain?" (So, you're saying I have to pack now and not tomorrow?) I raised my eyebrows in question.

Charles chuckled, rolling his eyes before lurching forward to press a chaste kiss to my forehead. "Oui chérie." (Yes, darling.)    

He finished packing rather quickly and then followed me down to my apartment, keeping me company as I gathered everything I needed for the long weekend. Charles laid on my bed like I had his, judging both my packing style and how much I was packing. A pillow or two might've been thrown during the duration of my packing.

Our flight was early tomorrow morning, I think 8 o'clock or so, yet Charles and I still decided to have a movie night in my living room. Charles' alarm went off sooner than I had hoped. We both sat up lazily on the couch, realizing that we'd fallen asleep during our last movie.

"​​Je suis surpris que mon téléphone ait encore de la batterie." (I'm surprised my phone still has battery.) Charles laughed, almost rolling off of the couch and onto his feet. He'd forgotten to go home last night, meaning he'd forgotten to plug his phone in.

I grunted in return, not ready to be awake. He laughed, leaning over to ruffle my hair. Another grunt.

He walked to the door of the apartment, stopping and turning to face me before leaving. "Sois prête dans trente minutes, Della. Il nous reste encore à aller à Nice." (Be ready in thirty minutes, Della. We still have to go to Nice.)

I waved him off as I attempted to stand up. Sleeping on the couch never helps my back.

Why is the nearest airport 45+ minutes away? I guess this is what we get for living in a place this size.

It didn't take me long to get ready. Or it did, I'm not sure. But as I pulled my suitcase to the door of the apartment, Charles was already knocking on it. I pulled it open to reveal the smiling face of my best friend. He was too much of a morning person.

"Ready to go?" he mused, taking in my still half-asleep state.

I nodded, gesturing for him to move away so I could join him in the hallway. He did, letting me even lead the way down to the elevator.

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