Death of a Bachelor (COMPLETED)

#40 UK

“Amor, amor, amor. ¡Qué hombre tan guapo! ¡Qué suerte tengo!” love, love, love. What a handsome man! How lucky I am!

Simone whispered softly, her voice laced with amusement as she traced delicate patterns along Lewis’s sharp nose and up to his long, beautiful eyelashes. The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Lewis's childhood home in United Kingdom, casting a golden glow over the cozy bedroom.

They had arrived in United Kingdom early, taking a rare opportunity to slow down and unwind before the chaos of the British Grand Prix. Lewis had been excited to return home, he had been looking forward to seeing his Mother again and his family finally meeting Simone.

Lewis lay peacefully beside her, his bare chest rising and falling with each steady breath. The soft rays of sunlight illuminated his features, highlighting the curve of his jaw, and the gentle slope of his nose. His curls were slightly tousled, framing his face in a way that made him look softer.

Her gaze lingered on his bare tattoos, her  fingertips ghosted over the intricate patterns inked into his skin, following the curves of his tattoos as if memorizing each line. She traced over the fierce roaring lion on his right chest, moving her fingers lower, she followed the inked compass on his ribcage, Lewis stirred slightly, a soft content hum escaping his lips which made Simone giggled.

A soft smile spread across her lips as she watched him sleep, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. Even in deep slumber, he looked effortlessly handsome—his features relaxed, his skin warm under her touch. She couldn’t resist reaching out again, lightly tracing the shape of his soft lips. They were slightly parted as he slept, his breath warm against her touch.

She leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. As she pulled away, her thoughts drifted to the past few weeks—the three races she had witnessed, each one filled with its own highs and lows. She remembered the way Lewis carried himself with pride and determination, no matter the outcome, but she also remembered the sadness in his eyes when things hadn’t gone his way.

The disappointment of losing was something she had witnessed firsthand, the weight of it settling in his shoulders when the cameras were off and the crowd had gone home. Yet, even in those moments, he never let it break him. She admired that about him—the way he fought, the way he pushed forward, the way he refused to let setbacks define him.

A faint frown appeared on Lewis’s face, his eyebrows twitching slightly in response to her touch. Then, as if sensing her presence more vividly, his eyelids fluttered open. The sudden exposure to daylight made him squint, and he let out a slow, groggy sigh as his vision adjusted. 

When his gaze finally settled on Simone, he found her watching him with wide eyes, clearly surprised by how quickly he had woken up. 

"Sorry" she murmured with a soft laugh, pulling her hand back slightly, as if she had been caught doing something mischievous. "Well...Buenos dias, guapo"

Lewis let out a low hum, his voice still thick with sleep as he blinked up at her. A lazy grin spread across his face before he whispered, "Give me a kiss"

Simone rolled her eyes, though the warmth in her expression betrayed her amusement. "You're so spoiled"  she muttered, but before he could protest, she leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against his lips.

"Come on, get up, fix yourself, and help me prepare breakfast—I want to impress your Mom" Simone said, nudging him lightly. Her voice was warm, but there was a hint of urgency in it. She wanted everything to be perfect. 

Lewis groaned softly, stretching his arms above his head before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He wasn’t in a hurry to leave the comfort of the bed, but the excitement in Simone’s voice made him crack a small, sleepy smile.