One Shots | Formula 1

LH☁︎

"I don't wanna know."- Inspired by Creepin' by TheWeeknd.

The morning sun struggled to penetrate the heavy curtains, casting a dim light in the room. I groaned as I rolled over, reaching out for a warmth that wasn't there. Lewis Hamilton, my boyfriend, was still not home. The clock on my bedside table mocked me with its relentless ticking, and the emptiness in the bed mirrored the hollowness in my chest.

The events of last night replayed in my mind like a broken record. We had a small, petty fight – one of those disagreements that felt like the end of the world in the moment. Lewis, always on the move, seemed to spend more time outside and anywhere but with me. It was as if he had forgotten the simple joy of just being together. The frustration boiled over, words were exchanged, and he stormed out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a sinking feeling in my gut.

As I stumbled into the kitchen, the scent of coffee failed to lift my spirits. The apartment echoed with the silence of his absence. I mechanically went through the motions of preparing breakfast, the clinking of dishes serving as a harsh reminder of the distance that had crept between us.

Unable to resist the urge to distract myself, I reached for my phone. The glow of the screen illuminated my face, casting a blue hue on the unease etched across my features. Instinctively, I opened Instagram, hoping for a distraction from the weight of the morning.

My heart skipped a beat as I scrolled through the feed. There, in a series of paparazzi photos, was Lewis, laughing with a girl whose name I didn't recognize. The casual intimacy between them felt like a punch to the gut. My stomach churned, and a lump formed in my throat. It was as if the world had shifted beneath me, and I was left standing on shaky ground.

The captions were filled with speculation, fueling the fire of my insecurities. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the images, dissecting each frame for clues of betrayal. Thoughts raced through my mind, fueled by jealousy and doubt. Was he with her last night? Did he find solace in her company when he couldn't stand to be with me?

I slammed the phone down, the sharp sound of it hitting the table punctuating the heavy silence. Tears welled up in my eyes, a mix of frustration and heartache threatening to spill over. 

The breakfast I had so absentmindedly prepared sat forgotten, the once inviting aroma now a bitter reminder of my shattered morning.

The realization hit me like a tidal wave – our relationship was hanging by a thread. Lewis's absence was not just physical; it was emotional. As the weight of his choices pressed down on me, I questioned whether we could weather this storm together. The vulnerability of love had never felt so raw, and as I stood alone in the cold kitchen, I couldn't help but wonder if our love story was unraveling at the seams.

The front door creaked open, and Lewis stepped into the apartment, his presence filling the space with an awkward tension. His eyes widened as he caught sight of me, red-eyed and visibly distraught. The weight of the morning's revelations hung heavy in the air, and the room seemed to shrink as he hesitated in the doorway.

I mustered the strength to look at him, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Where were you?" I asked, the words cutting through the silence like a knife.

Lewis's eyes flickered with surprise, and then something akin to guilt flashed across his face. "I... I had some things to take care of," he stammered, avoiding direct eye contact.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in my voice. "Someone saw you, Lewis. With her," I gestured towards my phone, still lying on the table with the incriminating photos.

His expression shifted, a subtle defiance replacing the guilt. "It's not what you think, okay? We're just friends."

My heart sank at his defensive stance. I had expected denial, perhaps even an attempt to explain, but the defensiveness only fueled the fire of doubt within me. "Lewis, I don't want to know," I interrupted, my voice tinged with resignation. "If you're cheating, just keep it on the low. I can't take it anymore."

He sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry the weight of the room. "It's not like that. You have to trust me."

I met his gaze, tears threatening to spill over once more. "Trust is a two-way street, Lewis. I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one on it."

His eyes softened, a flicker of remorse crossing his face. "I messed up, okay? I should have been more transparent. But she's just a friend. Nothing more."

I wiped away a stray tear, my resolve hardening. "I don't want to hear excuses anymore. If you value what we have, then show it. I can't keep fighting for a relationship on my own."

Lewis sighed again, his shoulders slumping as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I love you, you know that, right?"

The words hung in the air, both a reassurance and a plea. I nodded, the weight of the morning's emotions pushing me to the edge. "Love is more than words, Lewis. It's actions, it's being there. I can't keep doubting and hurting. I need something real."

He approached cautiously, his eyes searching mine for a sign of forgiveness. I stepped back, creating a necessary distance. "I need time," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Time to figure out if what we have is worth the pain."

I needed air, space to breathe and clear my head, so I stepped onto the terrace, the chill of the morning biting against my tear-stained cheeks. The soft sounds of the city surrounded me, a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions within. As I gazed at the skyline, lost in thought, the door behind me creaked open, and Lewis hesitantly joined me.

"Look, I can explain," he began, his voice laden with a mix of frustration and regret.I turned to face him, a weariness settling into my bones. "No more explanations, Lewis. I've heard enough."

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous tic that betrayed his uncertainty. "I messed up, okay? I shouldn't have been with her. But it doesn't mean I don't love you."

I sighed, the words washing over me without the comfort they once held. "Love is more than words, Lewis. It's trust, it's presence, it's feeling secure in each other. I don't know if we have that anymore."

He took a step closer, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this right. I don't want to lose you."

I shook my head, a bitter smile playing on my lips. "Lewis, love shouldn't feel like a constant battle. It shouldn't be this hard. I've supported you, stood by you through thick and thin. But what have I received in return?"

His gaze dropped, and for a moment, the weight of my words seemed to settle on his shoulders. "I just need you to trust me again," he murmured, his voice desperate.

I took a deep breath, the cold air filling my lungs. "Trust is earned, Lewis. You can't demand it. And right now, all I see is shattered trust and broken promises."

He reached out tentatively, as if to touch my arm, but I pulled away. "Do you love her?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart.

His eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "No, of course not. You're the one I love."I nodded, a sad acceptance settling in. "Then answer me this, Lewis. Does she love you like I do? Does she touch you better than I do? Does she watch you fall asleep, support you like I have?"

He hesitated, searching for words that wouldn't come. The silence spoke volumes, and I turned away, the cold wind offering a harsh but necessary embrace. The truth hung in the air, a painful acknowledgment of the fractures in our relationship.

"I need time," I repeated, my voice almost a whisper. "Time to figure out if what we have is worth salvaging."

As I left the terrace, the door closed behind me, leaving Lewis alone with the echoes of unanswered questions and the weight of a love teetering on the edge of irreparable damage.

Thanks for reading and voting!

Who should I write about next? Maybe another song-inspired one? Comment down below!