Your wake up but you still wanted to stay wrapped up in your blankets after some minutes you sat up in bed, your hair messy and your face half-asleep, but you quickly played your favorite playlist. While you put on your school uniform (the one with the plaid skirt and red-and-gold blazer), you danced in front of the mirror using your hairbrush as a microphone. You had light eyes like Charles, but that mischievous Sainz-like glint but you were more similar to Charles. You had his faces, his wink, his smiled.

Once you were ready, you walked down the stairs with your backpack slung over one shoulder and your blazer slightly unbuttoned. Halfway down, you could already smell something sweet: Pancakes. Carlos’s pancakes. The ones he always made on school days. He never missed.

When you reached the dining room, the first thing you saw was your dads in the kitchen, completely in their own world. Carlos, wearing Ferrari sweatpants and a white shirt, was leaning in toward Charles, who was in his favorite hoodie—the red one with the little black horse embroidered on it. Carlos had flour on his cheek, and Charles was gently wiping it off with his thumb, smiling tenderly.

—“Sweety, you’ve got flour all over your face,” Charles said, laughing.

—“Well, Love, maybe it’s your fault for distracting me.”

Carlos gave Charles a soft kiss on the nose, and you let out a giggle from the background.

—“Have you two had breakfast yet, or do I need to remind you I exist too?” you said with a smirk as you dropped your backpack onto a chair.

Both turned around looking adorably guilty.

Carlos, walked over to hug you from behind and kissing the top of your head.

—“Good morning, sweetheart,” Charles said, handing you a mug of coffee with milk

You sat at the bar while Carlos served you pancakes with strawberries and Nutella, and Charles gently fixed your blazer and straightened the knot on your school tie, like he did every morning. The room was filled with soft laughter, the sound of the coffee machine, and the smell of home.