Hungary

                                    

                                          
(I cannot seem to stick to a tense, can you tell we don't proofread this????)
(Header image courtesy of kyb33_ on Instagram) 
	Interactions between Charles and Carlos had been amicable enough since they had decided to take a break. Often short and never talking about anything deeper than a kiddie pool, they faked it well enough that fans didn't suspect a thing. 
	It was easier now that they had talked and finally knew where they stood with each other, but it still wasn't... good. Carlos found himself staring at Charles whenever he got the chance, and on remembering himself, had to tear his eyes away. He couldn't help it. He needed to memorize his every feature if this was the end of them. No matter how many times his eyes traced over the lines of his face, Carlos feared it would never be enough. That he would somehow forget. 
	He'd forget his perfect bold eyebrows and the straight lines of his nose. He wouldn't be able to remember the colors of his eyes that seemed to change with the light. Brown, green, and even blue depending on how close Carlos got. He'd no longer notice the freckle near his nose, and the other under his eye, and with it would go the urge to kiss them over and over again. He'd forget the way he ran his hands through Charles's tousled hair and over the rough stubble on his sharp jaw.
He didn't want to forget any of these things. He wanted to hold them tight forever, even if he couldn't hold Charles the same way, so he allowed himself to stare, telling himself it would be alright.
🏎 🏎 🏎
	 Charles knew Carlos kept staring at him. He tried his best to ignore it and not give into his longing look. He was sure he looked at Carlos the same way. 
	As much as he wanted to run back to Carlos, he stayed at arms' length. He needed to figure out his own emotions, and he needed to do that alone. Alone as one could be when also sharing every detail with one's best friend. 
He kept Charlotte up to date, and every time she sighed like she couldn't believe the convoluted shit the author of this was coming up with to add more angst. Eventually they ended the fake dating scheme, offering a generic statement about how they loved the other, but just weren't right together and would remain friends.
 Charles was glad that it was over and would no longer have to keep up the lie, but he also felt terribly vulnerable. Without Charlotte on his arm, he was paranoid people would know. He didn't go back to her though, so it felt like progress all the same. 
He wasn't ready to be out to the public, he knew that much, but maybe he'd get there. For Carlos. 
This fact was only confirmed after the race. Feeling very depresso and not very espresso, his eyes began to follow Carlos around the paddock, as if staring at the back of his head would bring some sort of comfort. He felt like Carlos was the only one who could bring him comfort. It didn't matter that they were teammates and competitors. It didn't matter what happened between them on the track. He just wanted Carlos to hold him.
	Instead it was Max who appeared at his side. He sipped from a blue and red water bottle as he searched Charles's expression. "Sorry about the race, man." 
	"Shit happens," Charles replied nonchalantly, not about to reveal how bothered he was. "Congratulations."
	"Thanks." He smirked. "It's not the same without you right behind me though."
	Charles scoffed. He knew Max was joking, but the way the season was headed it didn't feel like too much of a joke. He laughed anyway. "Oh you miss me that bad?"
	Max's smirk returned. "Yeah, I do." 
	Just then, two girls, a wasian and a brown girl, apparated near them. Charles stopped laughing immediately due to shock. Max didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.