my lil digital diary lol

Why do bad things happen to good people?

Or, more accurately in this instant, why do good things happen to bad people making the good people suffer because the bad people are fucking di–

A knock on his car window brought him out of his self-pity spiral, making him raise his head from the steering wheel. Only to come face to face with a stranger, which… what?

Because he has no survival instincts (Lorenzo would probably yell at him for it when Arthur told him this story later), he rolled down the window.

“Um, hi?”

The stranger smiled. Later on, when retelling this to Lorenzo, he’d say she smiled in a cheery way, not a psychopathic way. Or a creepy serial killer way. Just in a normal, friendly way.

“Tough day?”

Arthur squinted, taking in her cheery smile, kind eyes, and graphic t-shirt with the quote “women are born to serve men”... with a man’s head on platter. Okay, so maybe keep that detail out of the retelling. But one thing was true, she looked… familiar.

“Sorry, do I know you?”

She pursed her lips.

“I don’t know, do you watch a lot of porn? Try imagining me with my top off, see if it rings any bells.”

He spluttered, feeling his face grow hot. There’s no way. There’s actually no way he came across a porn actress and recognised her. He doesn’t even watch it that often, and his memory’s not that good, so how–

A snort stopped his panicking.

“Heavens, you should see your face! Calm down, pretty boy. I’m your neighbour, flat directly in front of yours.”

When retelling this story to Lorenzo, he would definitely keep this out. He glared at her, seeing the cheeky smirk still on her face.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.”

He sighed and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes suddenly growing heavy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you, I probably haven’t been the most cordial neighbour, but I travel a lot for work and–”

She cut him off with a gentle smile.

“I know, don’t worry about that. This is Monaco, in case you’ve forgotten. I know who you are, Arthur Leclerc.”

Right, he should’ve thought of that.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a picture?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m surprised you fit into that helmet of yours with how big your head is. No, Arthur, I don’t want a picture. I came here to see if you were okay cause you were banging your head on the steering wheel so hard I was afraid you’d give yourself a concussion. I can’t let you die, the whole nation would be in shambles.”

He felt a small smile creep in.

“How thoughtful, very patriotic.”

“I know, right? Now come on, get out of the car, I was gonna bake cookies so you can come in and have some.”

He straightened up in his seat.

“Oh, that’s okay, I don’t mean to be a bother–”

“Out of the car Arthur, don’t make me count to three.”

For the record, he got out of the car because he wanted to, not because she told him to. Although, the bright smile on her face was a nice reward.

“Don’t forget to lock the car.”

—

“Um… What is that?”

She hummed noncommittally, setting her shopping bag on the kitchen counter. 

“What’s what?”

He pointed at the four-legged thing sniffing at his shoes.

“This thing, it’s getting close to me, is it gonna bite me?”

She finally turned around, only to laugh softly.

“She is my cat. Her name’s Circe. Don’t worry, she won’t bite you, she’s a sweetheart.”

As if to prove her point, she picked the cat up and nuzzled it to her face, making soft cooing noises.

“Gonna make friends with the neighbour, Ceecee? Think he needs some good cuddles to get rid of the bad day he had.”

The cat simply purred and licked at her nose, bumping their heads together over and over again.

“Go sit on the couch, Arthur, come on. You can put your jacket on that hanger, shoes go next to the door.”

He did as told. Mostly because he didn’t see the point in arguing, a little because she seemed particularly pleased whenever he did as she said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it.”

He rolled his eyes, coming to sit on the surprisingly comfortable couch. It felt like a cloud. He could definitely fall asleep here.

“That’s not what I meant. Can you tell me your name?”

She moved over to him, cat still in her hands.

“I can, but what’s the fun in that?”

She set the cat down on his lap and he held his breath, waiting for it to attack.

“If you don’t tell me I don’t know what to call you, also, I’m really more of a dog person.”

The cat moved around a bit and lifted her paws one after the other, like she was trying to test whether or not his lap was an acceptable resting place.

“Everyone’s a cat person, even if they say they aren’t.”

“Are you quoting Sebastian Vettel but comparing your cat to Ferrari?”

She shrugged.

“It’s a good quote, also, she likes you.”

The cat had her front paws on his chest, raising herself up until she could reach his lips with her nose. It felt a little like she was sniffing at them. Then she rubbed her cheek against his jaw, once, twice, and a third time, before curling up into a ball on his lap, purring away.

“Oh… That’s kind of nice…”

The vibrations were quite soothing. He hesitantly brought his hand to her fur, a mix of orange, black, and brown, with a couple white spots here and there.

“She’s so soft…”

Circe flipped onto her back, curled into a C shape, front paws in the air, giving him full access to her belly. When he caressed it, hesitantly again, the purring got even louder.

“Try under her chin, it’s her favourite spot.”

He did as told once again, taking one finger and running it back and forth under her chin, seeing Circe’s eyes flutter and her whole body going lax.

Despite having been privy to Max and Charles’ conversations over the years, particularly the Dogs Vs. Cat Debacle that starts up again every other week, Arthur has never understood Max’s love for the creatures. 

He most certainly does now.

When telling this story to Charles, he’ll leave out that part. Arthur was a patient man but even he didn’t have the strength to reassure his brother that Leo was cuter and fluffier for the hour it would take Charles to stop feeling betrayed. Especially because he’s not sure he’d be very convincing.

Five minutes with this cat and she had him wrapped around her finger. He’d be worried if he wasn’t having such a good time.

“So, wanna tell me what had you contemplating death by steering wheel?”

It seemed that while he’d been letting Circe work her magic on him, he’d failed to notice the woman moving towards the kitchen. She stood in front of the kitchen island, ingredients spread all around her (which, how long was he distracted?), and with her eyes focused on a battered old notebook. The open plan of her kitchen and living room meant they were able to communicate perfectly fine, and suddenly, he wished they couldn’t.

“Oh, um, you know… Nothing important, really, just me being dumb…”

He kept his eyes on the cat, soothingly running his hands over the soft fur of her stomach once again.

“Arthur…”

He hummed.

“Arthur, look at me.”

It’s crazy how following her instructions became almost automatic to him not even thirty minutes after they’d first met. He should look into that. Maybe she was a witch.

“Anything that makes you feel bad is important, your feelings are important, and I want to listen to them even if it’s because of something you deem dumb. But for what it’s worth, I highly doubt it will be.”

He kept his eyes on her, searching them for any trace of insincerity, but found nothing but honesty and empathy.

“Do you understand, angel?”

He felt his cheeks flush at the casual pet name, but nodded nonetheless.

“Words, Arthur.”

“Yes. I understand.”

Maybe he wouldn’t tell this story to either of his brothers at all because having to explain why his voice broke and he felt breathless was not something he felt prepared to deal with.

But the soft smile on her face really was making him forget how to breathe.

“Good. Now tell me what’s wrong, yeah? It’ll make you feel better.”

“You don’t have to listen to me, I don’t wanna bother you, you’re doing enough as is.”

She stopped, lifting her eyes to him, bag of sugar held in the air as she was preparing to measure it.

“You said it again.”

She squinted her eyes.

“Said what?”

“Bother. Before it was burden. And apologising for not being a better neighbour. Someone made you feel like you’re not enough, while also being too much at the same time. A subpar human and major annoyance. Am I right?”

He shrugged his shoulders, hoping she wouldn’t make him answer the question. But she seemed to sense his discomfort, because she didn’t ask him to speak this time.

“Well, whoever it is, they’re wrong. You’re not a burden, Arthur. Listening to you would be my pleasure, even if it’s for some petty thing. Get it off your chest. I promise I won’t judge or think you’re too much to handle.”

He looked at Circe, who had taken to licking his hand repeatedly. He felt flattered to be let into such a sanctuary, and to be blessed with such a wonderful creature’s attention.

“I had a promo event this weekend. I don’t know how much you’re aware of how things work in motorsports, but basically, even though I don’t drive for them directly, I’m still a part of Ferrari’s team. I help develop the cars, and occasionally do these little events for fans or other people in the business. Just regular media stuff.”

Even though she wasn’t looking at him, focusing on making the cookies, he could tell she was paying close attention to his every word.

“So, I was supposed to spend a weekend in Maranello, mostly doing sim work, but then I had a meet and greet with some fans. The sim work didn’t go great, I was paired up with another driver who’s just… young and arrogant, to be honest. He kept trying to undermine me in front of everyone, but it didn’t seem to have worked very well. I was… truthfully I was a bit angry, because he got such a great opportunity, and he was just using it to try and pretend he was smarter than everyone, like he knew everything, trying to get ahead at others’ expense.”

This time, when she tapped the egg on the counter’s edge to crack the shell, it shattered completely from the force she put behind it.

She blinked.

“Oopsie.”

She didn’t look the least bit sorry.

“Continue.”

“Right… Well, um, he was still with me when we went to meet the fans, and it was going pretty decently. We were signing a bunch of things, taking pictures, saying little fun facts about the factory, just the usual. And then he noticed that one of the fans had a picture of my brother on her phone case.”

She hummed.

“Lorenzo? Yeah, I can see why, he’s quite handsome.”

He let out a breathy laugh, feeling himself relax slightly at her attempt to lighten the mood.

“Unfortunately, the general population much prefers Charles. But yeah, she had a picture of him on his phone case and the guy pointed it out. He said ‘I  hope you’re not too disappointed to have to see Arthur instead. He’s like the Wish version of Charles, cause you just wish he was his brother’.”

He heard her inhale sharply but didn’t remove his eyes from Circe’s fur.

“I laughed it off, you know, pretended it was a funny joke between friends, but… I don’t know, it’s stupid. It’s not like he was wrong, he just said what everyone else was thinking.”

It seemed like all it took was one blink of his eyes, but suddenly she was standing in front of him. She took his head in her hands, framing it and forcing him to look her in the eyes.

“You listen to me and you listen carefully, Arthur Leclerc. You are not a burden, a disappointment, second-best, or a stand-in for your brother. You’re an amazing person and an accomplished racer in your own right, and if someone can’t see that, then it’s on them. That guy was a dick and I’m half-tempted to drive down to Maranello myself so he can see what happens when someone talks back.”

He felt the tears he’d been keeping at bay for the past two days finally start to fall, watching her eyes flicker between his.

“You’re not just Charles Leclerc’s brother. You’re Arthur Leclerc. You’re you. And the world’s a better place with you in it, do you understand?”

And that was apparently all it took to make him start sobbing like a child.

“Oh, angel, come here…”

He barely processed Circe jumping off his lap when the woman sat on the couch, pulling him on top of her. She laid him down on his side, with his back to the backrest, and laid down next to him, resting his head on her chest. Her arms were around his head and shoulders, one leg pulled up over his body, and he could feel her pull down the heavy blanket so it could cover their bodies. He was completely enveloped by her and he’d never felt so…

Safe.

He put his arms around her waist and hugged her tighter, cried harder, so hard his breathing was coming out in short bursts, making him feel like he was almost choking on his tears.

“Shh, there you go, baby, let it all out, I’m right here. Try to breathe for me, yeah? It’s all gonna be okay.”

He couldn’t say how long he stayed there like that, cradled in her arms, feeling her run her fingers through his hair and whisper soothing words into his ear. She never told him to stop crying, just kept reassuring him that she was here, to just let it all out, that she’d take care of him.

When the tears finally dried up, his face felt hot and wet. There was a low pounding in his skull, and his breathing still felt a little bit laboured, but he felt lighter, in a way.

“There you go. Does that feel better, darling?”

He nodded slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“Good, let me go grab some things and I’ll be right back, okay?”

It felt like a herculean effort, to have to let her go, but he still did it, staring listlessly in front of him until she came back, kneeling in front of the couch.

“Close your eyes for me, angel.”

He didn’t question it, just let them close and sighed at the feeling of a damp washcloth being gently rubbed over his face, wiping away the tears (and most likely snot, too). 

“There you go, baby, you did so good.”

He opened his eyes again to see her set down the washcloth and pick up a glass of water.

“Think you can get up and drink this for me?”

She ended up sitting back on the couch, holding him up with one arm while the other helped him get the glass to his mouth. He drank it all, per her request, and felt his eyes wanting to close again. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He heard the empty glass being put down before he felt her arms around him again.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, darling, your body’s just tired. How long has it been since you slept or ate properly?”

He shrugged his shoulders. Truthfully, he couldn’t remember.

“And judging by what I heard, you probably drove all the way from Maranello this morning, no?”

He nodded.

“Wanted to get home.”

“I know you did, lovely, but you’re exhausted. You had a very tiring weekend that, if I remember correctly, came right after a double-header, and even if it made you feel better, all this crying was most likely the breaking point. You need to let your body and your mind rest.”

He felt his breathing start to even out as she ran her fingers through his hair again.

“Just sleep, angel, I’ll look after you.”

That voice was certainly hard to resist.

“Just for five minutes…”

He told himself he would just rest his eyes.

Five minutes, nothing more.

The last thing he heard was her voice, softly singing a lullaby in a language he didn’t know.

—-—

Despite who her father was, (Y/n) had never been the type to stay quiet. Quite the opposite, she couldn’t stop talking to save her life. She was loud and unapologetic in her expressiveness, never one to simply seethe in quiet anger.

But now, holding a sleeping Arthur to her chest, she felt the rage building up under the surface, silent and dangerous. She wanted to track down the guy who dared say such cruel things.

She forced herself to keep breathing, to stay calm. Arthur was asleep and he needed the rest, it would be counter-productive to wake him up because she couldn’t keep a lid on her emotions.

She spent a good ten minutes sat on the couch, running her fingers through the soft strands of his hair, staring blankly ahead as her mind filled with images of the countless cruelties she could inflict on the boy who’d dared to hurt someone as precious as Arthur. 

Once she was sure he was as deep into sleep as she could send him, she carefully got up, resting his head against a pillow, and tucked him in with the weighted blanket she had on the couch. Circe didn’t waste time in joining him, starting up a soothing purr to keep him calm in sleep.

She picked up her phone and sent a text, not needing to wait long for an answer to come.

Satisfied that Sebastian would handle it, she got to work on finishing up her cookies. After all, Arthur would be hungry when he woke up. 

Maybe she’d make them dinner too.

—-—

Arthur woke up slowly, feeling the world slowly filter back in through his senses. He was warm and relaxed, lying on something soft. His neighbour’s couch, he belatedly remembered. Circe was curled up against his chest, purring up a storm, the vibrations soothing against his tired body. Music played at a low volume in the background, and upon opening his eyes, he saw a record player spinning. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a string of fairy lights hung up on the cornice, and a few candles lit here and there. The house smelled divine.

“Hey there, angel, how you feeling?”

His neighbour walked towards him slowly, a bowl in each hand, and set them down on the coffee table. There were spoons and water already laid there as well.

“Okay, thank you.”

She knelt in front of him, pushing his hair away from his forehead, and he felt his eyes flutter as he leaned into the touch.

“That’s good, how’s your head? You’re feeling a bit warm.”

“Still hurts little bit from all the crying but mostly okay.”

She took her hand away and he opened his eyes.

“Well, I made some chicken noodle soup to hopefully help you feel better, and afterwards we have warm cookies for dessert, sounds good?”

She was an angel, he was certain of it.

They ate while watching Barbie in The Nutcracker, practically glued to one another. Arthur wasn’t ashamed to admit he ate faster just so he could cuddle up to her better, way past the point of embarrassment or hesitation. If she didn’t want him to be this clingy she shouldn’t have broken his brain. Besides, she didn’t really seem to mind.

The cookies were honestly the best thing he’s ever put in his mouth, and he almost cried after the first bite. He didn’t count how many he had, but she kept handing him more, so he had to eat them.

It was only when he got a text from Lorenzo asking if he got home alright that he saw the time.

“Shit, it’s past midnight. I have to call my brother.”

He pouted, not wanting to leave, and she just smiled at him.

“Wanna come have breakfast tomorrow morning? There’s a bakery a couple blocks down that makes really good croissants, and we can just spend the day watching movies.”

Was it to early to say he was in love?

“Okay.”

He didn’t hesitate, and the smile he got in return could’ve powered a village.

Halfway to his door, right across hers, he turned back.

“You never told me your name.”

She smiled at him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“You’re a smart boy, you’ll figure it out.”

And the door was closed.

He stood there for a good five minutes, staring at the wreath she had hung up, until he remembered to check the name under her doorbell.

(Y/n) Räikkönen

His brother’s ringtone echoed around the hallway and he picked up the call immediately.

“Lorenzo, you will not believe who I just met.”

And that's it for my first F1 fic, hope you liked it! Ngl I got very attached to Circe and now I want another cat so that Sunny can have company.

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