Starting from the Pit lane - Lewis Hamilton

I did a Verstappen

Two months passed since then and Lewis and Melissa only saw each other before and after races, or qualifying sometimes. They argued like two bears and everyone at that point has stopped caring and paying attention. The other drivers had also started to hear about a certain Italian girl who always argued with Lewis and, a couple of times, the more pranksters like Lando and Ricciardo stood in wait to see the existence of that woman.
They never expected a woman so beautiful and so fluent in English. But they were so afraid when she raised her voice at Lewis and when he growled at her that they never interfered.

Lewis' team had let it run because, despite not managing to finish first due to Verstappen, by arguing with her they ran faster. As if he were filling up with anger and not gasoline and unloading it all on the track. They would turn their backs, make them fight, then dress him up and throw him on the track.
Melissa was consoled by Marco in the evening, they hadn't made the relationship official but every two weeks he showed up at some press conference and shared a hotel room with her. In public they rarely exchanged effusions of any kind but had been caught by her colleagues holding hands on a few occasions.

-How did it go today?- Marco asked her, taking off her coat.
-I'm exhausted and tomorrow I have to work all day and I'm leaving again in the evening- she fell onto the bed –What about yours?-
-I had a business meeting. I won't be able to come to the next grand prix- he said, lying down next to her.
-too bad- she turned towards him and gave him a very light kiss, barely letting their lips touch. Marco slowly got up and took Melissa's socks off.
-I want to make you relax a little- he gave her a somewhat improvised massage and she giggled in amusement.
Winter was about to end but the cold still didn't leave them alone. Melissa took off her jeans and t-shirt, revealing underwear that was a little casual but still an interesting dark blue. Marco wet his lips in amusement –I can make you relax even like this- he caressed her thighs and then kissed the inside of her leg.
Melissa still seemed tense, she stretched out and made herself more comfortable then looked at the ceiling, tilted her head and closed her eyes.

A week passed and the two had called each other a couple of times. Nothing too demanding but not even coldness, as expected.
Melissa woke up on Sunday morning and realized she hadn't seen Lewis, in person, at qualifying the day before. But she had followed number 44 every time he was spotted. She must have avoided it. Even though, she had admitted to herself, she hadn't gotten very close to the Mercedes box.
She put on a black skirt, quite tight, which reached her knees, tights, heels not too high but still not as low as usual, an old pink shirt and a blazer in the same black as the skirt. She took the usual black bag for his usual notes. She wore her makeup with the usual warm colors, very reminiscent of autumn. A bright but not absolutely heavy make-up. She had eyeshadow blended with various brown shades, quite light, a blush and a peachy lipstick and usual abundant mascara.
She paraded through the paddocks and felt butterflies in her stomach when she saw Mercedes' offices, she absolutely didn't want to enter.
It wasn't fear. It was shame. She stopped for a moment in front of the steps and looked at the door, confused.
She heard pattering and turned around. It was Roscoe, Lewis' dog. She had heard a lot about it but had never actually had the opportunity to meet him. She bent her knees and caressed him twice, he was certainly much more sociable than his owner.
He showed her his belly and then she scratched it with a smile. Given the numerous moves, her parents didn't think it was appropriate to take animals but she had always loved them. She had been a dog-sitter for two weeks at the age of fifteen, secretly from his parents, to a lady who had left for the Maldives just to be able to be in the company of a Labrador.

Lewis was looking at her, he was a few centimeters away from her, she couldn't see him because she was turning her back to him. She stopped to look at her for a minute and saw Roscoe had shown her his belly. He didn't notice but he smiled. He went around and also bent down to pet the dog who, as soon as he recognized him, forgot about the girl and started making fun of him. Soon they stood up and looked each other in the eyes, embarrassed. He didn't say anything to her, he looked at the entrance to the paddock and then at her. He set off and entered followed by the dog.
She took a moment and went inside. She placed her things on a chair and, when the team recognized her, she turned her back to the two so they could argue in peace. They didn't want to interrupt the propitiatory rite.
-You still haven't told me your name-
-you never asked me, Lewis-
Damn, my name with that damn Italian accent... such nerves. What nerves! That's so sexy said like that... wait, what?
He turned towards her and looked at her mockingly -So?-
-You haven't asked me yet-
Lewis licked his lips and broke eye contact to look into the air for a second. The team was ready to hear plates and knives flying.
He walked around her and put her "back to the wall", her back was turned to the wall but she was not leaning against it. There was a few centimeters of distance.
-What's your name?- he smiled sarcastically, lifting his helmet and holding it in place with one hand above his head.
-Melissa- she said, looking at the ground as she said it and then finding the courage to look him in the eyes. He smiled at her and felt herself flush. That anger!
-Did you come here again today to do a bad job, Melissa?-
The crew now also knew that girl's home address.
-Did you come here again today to have your ass striped by Max?- she then bit his tongue.
Something clicked in Lewis - I already have 7 championships under my belt, he's still on his third-
Melissa didn't know how to respond and apparently instinctively backed away. She found herself leaning against the wall and crossed her arms. She didn't know how to respond. –Beh...- she muttered.
-Beh? Are you a sheep? - Lewis chuckled to make fun of her.
-He's more charming than you- she moved her head slightly and looked like a cartoon.
-More charming than me?- he laughed, taking two steps towards her. Now he really had his back against the wall. –Have you seen the models and singers I went out with?-
-Now you're playing the lone wolf?- she no longer had intelligent exits. She had felt stupid when she started feeling his breath so close to her. She started to mumble something but Lewis silenced her with a kiss.
He covered her with his back and no one saw anything, in reality they hadn't noticed the incredible silence.
It was just a small but full kiss. They were glued to each other. His breathing was no longer labored, angry. It was deep but calm. Instinctively Melissa had placed the palms of her hands on his chest and he took one with his still free hand while he continued to hold his helmet with the other.

He pulled away before the silence could become deafening and everyone could turn to look at them. He lowered his helmet again and with the visor raised gave her a satisfied look.
And he took to the track, finishing second again.