*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—chapter three: christmas cookies and chaos

THE TRAIN IS DELAYED. Of course it fucking is. Christelle Leclerc slumps back in her seat, staring out at the rain trickling down the window as the voice of the conductor rings out over the intercoms. An hour. An hour she didn't have to spare.

And it definitely doesn't help that her phone has been vibrating from texts for the past half hour. Mostly from Lorenzo arguing with Charles and Arthur about the sugar cookies. Christelle loves her family, truly, but sometimes they're a bit... much. Especially Charles, who seems to think that her being late is a personal attack on his sanity.

The train finally lurches forward, the rain outside blurring into streaks of light as they head off toward Monaco. She leans her head back against the seat, closing her eyes. Exhaustion stemming from her frustration is creeping in after a whirlwind week in France—a brief escape from the relentless world of Formula 1. 

Her mind wanders to the season that had just ended. 2021 had been tough. Alfa Romeo hadn't exactly been competitive, and while Kimi Räikkönen is one of the many legends in the sport, he isn't exactly the most talkative teammate. Still, he had taught her a lot from the three seasons she's spent here—mostly through observation rather than conversation.

And then there's George Russell.

The thought alone is enough to cause her to frown. George isn't someone she thinks about often. They aren't close—not like she is with Mathilde Lévesque or Lando or Alex. But there's something about him that lingers in her mind, a quiet presence that she couldn't quite shake. Maybe it's the way he carries himself, always so composed, even when things aren't going his way. Or maybe it's the way his blue eyes seem to hold a thousand thoughts he never ays aloud.

Not that it matters.

They're just acquaintances, nothing more. And besides, she'd made a promise to Charles and Arthur years ago—no dating anyone on the grid.

Her frustration only worsens as the train continues to rattle along the track. The hum of the wheels is doing little to soothe her as she stares at her cellphone, the device left open to the messages app for nearly ten more minutes. It's probably the fiftieth time she's checked her messages in the past hour. She actually has no idea—she's lost count a while ago. The most recent text in the family group chat had been from Charles, who had sent her a "???" in an attempt to figure out why she wasn't home yet.

She sighs as she leans back in her seat. She should have gotten a train ticket from this morning, then she would have been home already. But she had ended up leaving France around two o'clock that afternoon and the train had been delayed twice. First, there had been a signal issue. Then, someone had decided to pull the emergency brake. Now, she's stuck somewhere between Aix-en-Provence and Monaco with no idea if she'd even make it home in time for dinner.

When her phone buzzes, she quickly glances down at the screen.

✧ ✧ ✧

IMESSAGE

leclerc famille

christelle - ella
charles - cha
arthur - petit frère
lorenzo - big bro
pascale - maman

Today 15:00

big bro
si tu n'es pas là dans l'heure,
tu me dois

big bro
i had to go out and buy
cookies because i didn't
have time to make more

big bro
arthur kept eating the dough
and blaming it on charles

petit frère
ce n'est pas de ma faute si les
cookies étaient bons 🤤

cha
you didn't even leave me ONE

maman
Ils ne sont pas autorisés à la
cuisine lorsque Lorenzo cuisine.

petit frère
MAMAN

cha
THAT'S NOT FAIR

✧ ✧ ✧

Christelle rolls her eyes as she hastily types a response.

✧ ✧ ✧

Today 15:15

ella
idiots.

ella
you better save me a cookie,
or else i'm stealing every single
one of the trophies you guys
own

✧ ✧ ✧

There's no reply, but she imagines Arthur is narrowing his eyes at his phone while Charles is frowning in feigned offense. On the other hand, Lorenzo is probably muttering something about how he's the only responsible sibling.

A faint smile tugs at her lips as she stares out the window, the French countryside blurring into the deep blue of the Mediterranean as the train gets closer to home.

✧ ✧ ✧

By the time Christelle finally gets to Monaco, it's dark out. The streets have twinkling lights hanging from various lights and there are decorations here and there, but nothing too fancy. She can see her breath in the chilly winter air as she drags her suitcase through the station. It rarely snows in Monaco, but there's a crispness to the night that makes her wish she had packed a thicker coat.

It's only then that her phone buzzes again.

✧ ✧ ✧

Today 19:26

cha
le dîner a commencé sans toi.

petit frère
j'ai mangé ton dessert.

big bro
tu vas m'aider à nettoyer quand
tu arriveras

✧ ✧ ✧

Upon seeing the text messages, Christelle groans, her head tossed back in annoyance as she sets her phone back into the pocket of her coat. Her pace quickens as she hails a cab and gets her suitcase packed into the trunk.

The drive to the Leclerc family home takes longer than she thought, and by the time she finally arrives at the Leclerc family home, it was nearly nine-thirty at night. The warm glow of the Christmas lights spilling through the windows is a welcome sight, even if she's bracing herself for the inevitable chaos inside.

She pushes open the door, dragging her suitcase into the entryway. But before she could even take off her coat, Charles appears, looking both relieved and exasperated.

"Ella!" Charles' voice rings out before she even has a chance to drop her suitcase. He's standing in the entryway, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in slight annoyance. "You're late by..." he checks his watch, "two hours."

"Okay, first of all, don't blame me, blame French trains. It's not my fault it took forever and a day to get here," she shoots back, rolling her eyes as she slips off her coat and hangs it up on the rack. "And you're one to talk. You're late to everything."

"Well, that's different," he says with a pout, but the grin that forms on his face afterwards says otherwise. He pulls her into a quick hug, ruffling her hair in the process. "Maman was starting to get worried. She thought you weren't coming."

"Look, I'm fine. I'm here," she confirms as she enters the living room where the rest of the family is gathered.

Arthur is sprawled on the couch, a plate of cookies balancing on his lap. Lorenzo is standing in the kitchen doorway, an apron around his waist, looking far too smug. Their mother, Pascale, is setting another tray of food on the table, her face lighting up when she spots her daughter.

"Christelle, mon ange!" Pascale envelopes her in a warm hug, and for the first time that evening, Christelle lets herself relax.

She was home.

✧ ✧ ✧

Later that evening, after Christelle had salvaged whatever was left from the Christmas Eve dinner, and the chaos had settled into a comfortable hum of conversation and laughter, she ends up on the couch in the living room. A thick and extremely comfortable red and black checkered fleece throw blanket is draped over her as she scrolls on her phone. Most of the messages in her notifications are from friends wishing her a Merry Christmas, but there's one in particular that stands out from the rest.

✧ ✧ ✧

messages between george + christelle

iMessage
Today 23:30

tea drinker #2
have a merry christmas,
christelle. i hope you made
it home okay. alex was just
notifying me that your train
was late

tea drinker #2
i assume you have your
location shared with him?

✧ ✧ ✧

She stares at the message for a moment, surprised. George never really messages her directly. Though knowing him for this long, the two of them have only ever exchanged a few polite words at the paddock and during media duties, but that's mostly the extent of their interactions.

Her fingers hover over the keyboard in hesitation, just for a moment, before she types out a reply.

✧ ✧ ✧

ella
merry christmas, george. i did,
eventually. hope you'll have
a good one :)

ella
and yeah. i only share it with
my brothers, my mum, and
close friends. or is this your
attempt at wanting to stalk me?
that is a crime, yk

tea drinker #2
i can assure you that that is
not what that is at all! i'm
sorry if it came off that way,
i meant no harm in it.

tea drinker #2
it's just you didn't update
us in the group chat about
when you arrived, like you
said you would

ella
sorryyy

ella
got caught up dealing with
my brothers

tea drinker #2
no worries! i won't keep
you, any longer then. enjoy
your family time, and do
enjoy your christmas
tomorrow :)

ella
same to you george
Read

✧ ✧ ✧

As she sets her phone down beside her on the couch cushion, she can't help but feel a small flutter in her chest. It's nothing. Just ignore it, she thinks. It's just a friendly exchange.

But as the night wears on and the house grows quieter, she finds herself thinking about George again.

Just acquaintances, she reminds herself. Nothing more.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that this conversation would be on her mind until she wakes up the following morning.

author's note
writing the leclerc family
dynamic literally has me
on the FLOOR. they're so
fucking funny

12.27.24