You're with Charles, the young pilote in Formula 1. It's no longer just the pilote you're seeing, but someone with whom you've shared moments, exchanged secret glances, and now you find yourself with him, far away from it all.

Charles, dressed in a simple white T-shirt and casual jeans, is behind the wheel of his old convertible, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. Your hair flutters lightly in the breeze, and every movement in the car seems to amplify the electricity between you.

As we pull into a deserted parking lot near the dunes, he cuts the engine and looks up at you, a mischievous smile on his lips. You feel his arm around you as you turn towards him, your legs gently slipping over his as you settle onto his lap.

“You're beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes captivated by your smile.