SHAMELESS, lewis hamilton¹

50

Mirabella had been a world champion for four days.

That was still really strange. The thought didn't seem right but at the same it did. If she looked at her Wikipedia page it would now say that she was an Italian and Turkish motor racing driver and that she won the 2022 Formula One Championship. She hadn't actually checked it but she knew that was almost what it would say on the page.

The race replayed in her mind over and over. She remembered it clearer now. Especially the end of it. She remembered that Max actually was very close to overtaking her, driving wheel to wheel at the end. But she had somehow managed to push past it, away from him, and when they crossed the finish line she had made a clear difference between them, making her win even clearer to everyone else.

She couldn't help but smile to herself as she looked out the passenger side window of Lewis's car. She won and she won good. No one was going to talk her out of that, tell her that she didn't deserve it or anything like that. It was easy to let someone convince you that you're not good enough or don't deserve something. There just had to be enough people to tell you that. But she didn't care about any of that anymore. She knew she was good. She always has. And she wasn't going to let anyone tell her differently anymore.

And she wouldn't act like she didn't know she was good. Women weren't supposed to be cocky or just self-aware of their own greatness. That's what fragile men said at least. But she didn't want to act like she wasn't self-aware of her own skill. She didn't want to put on this extremely humble and oblivious face when it just wasn't who she was.

Don't get her wrong, she was all in all a humble person but she was cocky. She had an ego. She knew she was good, actually no, she knew she was great. Michael freaking Schumacher had told her she was great and she had been fourteen at that time. Of course she had an ego.

Her thoughts drifted towards something else.

Like when two weeks ago they were both invited to his mother's. She hadn't said yes right away, but around a day after she figured out that she wanted to try, so that's where they were headed.

He was driving because one; he knew the way and two; she didn't want to drive in England. She hated it with a burning passion. She had told him as much before they entered the plane on their way to his home country, "I'm never driving in England again."

"Why not?" he had asked her.

She gave him a look, "'Cause it traumatised me."

So he was driving.

Mirabella was nervous, she wouldn't lie about that. She bit her lip as she stressed over it, her leg bouncing up and down subconsciously. How couldn't she be stressed when she was meeting his family for the first time? And it wasn't just his mum it was his half-sisters and their children. What was slightly comforting was that his father and his brother were going to be there and she knew them pretty well since they were often at the races.

Lewis glanced over at her, seeing the look on her face and the insistent bouncing of her leg. She hadn't complained much, but he could still tell that she was nervous. So, he put his hand on her thigh, feeling it stop bouncing as she relaxed, her body becoming less tense at the feeling of his touch.

She looked over at him and he looked back, smiling softly at her and she felt him squeeze her thigh once before he turned back to the road. He began rubbing soothingly over the soft fabric of her pants, the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric and warming her skin.

It was strange how it worked because now she felt fine.

That was until they drove into the driveway and her heart went back to beating like an intense and fast drum, the sound of it loud in her ears. She heard him turn off the car and walk out and she watched as he made his way around and opened the door for her, closing it when she stepped out of the car.