SHAMELESS, lewis hamilton¹

12

Mirabella was lying on the queen bed in the hotel room that she had to share with Hamilton, music blasting in the one air pod she was wearing whilst the other was in its box. She was scrolling on Twitter, looking through the hundreds of Tweets about the last race weekend. She tried to ignore the hate comments directed at her, focusing on the positive ones. Or the ones that weren't about them. Even though there weren't many that weren't about them. The amount of times she's read ones that said something along the lines of 'This is the second Silver War' or 'Brocedes 2.0' is ridiculous.

Her leg was shaking⏤or bouncing maybe⏤as she waited for the dreaded moment where she would hear the knock on the door.

user5789
she's such a fucking pussy honestly. can't handle anything. this is why women shouldn't be in f1 their all so sensitive

And at that she officially left the app, rolling her eyes and letting out an exasperated breath as she fell back onto the plush pillows of the bed. She zoned out on the wall, letting Moth To A Flame continue to play while she tried to ignore the pounding headache that had formed after reading all of it.

Great. She was pissed and had a headache, a really bad one at that.

Three knocks.

She let out a groan of frustration, and after five seconds of just laying on the bed in silence, she got up. Not without making a lot of noise though and letting out a string of curses as she made her way to the door.

"For fucks sake. I'm so sick of this shit."

With a hand on the doorframe, she opened to door immediately glaring at Hamilton, who stood just outside with his luggage next to him and his fist hovering over the door, ready to knock on it again.

He scanned her; her stance, the furrow between her eyebrows that she always has when she was angry at him, the flames in her warm eyes that could cut you like knives, and her heavy breathing. He came to the conclusion that she was furious. At what was the question that he did not have the answer to.

"I just got here," he started, raising an eyebrow. "What could I possibly have done to make you so angry."

She hummed, still blocking his way inside. "For once, it's not your fault. I know right? Shocking."

He rolled his eyes and sighed, rubbing his temple. He looked at her again, letting his arm fall down, and asked, "Are you going to let me in?"

"Hmm," she narrowed her eyes at the air as if she was thinking about the answer she already knew. "I don't really want to. So..."

She trailed off at the end of her sentence but moved away anyway letting the heavy door close behind her, so he had to hurry to catch it before it locked him out. She heard him let out an unamused chuckle while she fell back onto her bed, putting both of her air pods in this time since she didn't have to listen for any knocks anymore.

Mirabella ended up scrolling on TikTok this time, and an edit of herself popped up catching her by surprise. It was to a song by Mariah Carey, Obsessed, and a clip from the whole garage thing after the crash in Imola where she had pushed him into the wall was used as the intro. In the middle of the mashed-together clips of her, where she looked very good might she add, was an audio clip of an interview from her rookie season after the Russian Grand Prix.

'He crashed into me first in the Hungarian Grand Prix, which ended up with me not finishing the race. Now I do it to him and he complains like a child? I just mirrored his energy. If he can't handle that, then that is his problem. Not mine.'

It made her feel a whole lot better. The comments were quite amusing as well, especially since half of them were thirsting after her and the rest were dissing Hamilton. One of them caught her eye.