Death of a Bachelor (COMPLETED)

#51 Lucien Hamilton

December 2024 – Dordogne, France

The cold morning air hung softly over the French countryside, thick with winter mist. Moisture clung to the bare tree branches and the fading petals of the garden's last winter flowers, glistening like tiny crystals in the early light. The stone cottage sat quietly between the frosty fields, and warm light glowed from its windows — a cozy contrast to the chilly air outside.

In their new home, inside the softly lit bathroom, Lewis Hamilton knelt beside a small baby bathtub placed securely on the floor. The scent of baby soap mixed with the faint aroma of fresh coffee and pinewood smoke drifted from the fireplace nearby.

"Careful" he whispered under his breath, as though afraid the walls themselves might disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

He was fully focused, his hands steady but gentle as he cradled two-month-old Lucien in the shallow tub of warm water. His left arm supported the baby's tiny back and head, while his right hand carefully squeezed a small amount of baby shampoo into his palm. With the utmost care, he lathered it into Lucien's fine dark hair — barely more than soft fuzz — his fingers moving in slow circles.

"You just look like Mama" Lewis whispered with a quiet smile, his voice gentle and low as if they were sharing a secret. He gazed down at his son with wonder, as though seeing him for the first time all over again. "You got her nose... those soft lips... and those big, curious eyes."

Lucien let out a tiny coo, his round eyes wide, blinking at the light above them. He kicked his legs softly in the water, making gentle ripples. Lewis smiled down at him, unable to hide the awe still fresh in his eyes every time he looked at his son.

Lewis chuckled softly, his hand still tracing gentle circles on Lucien's head. "But I got something in there too, huh?" He leaned in a little, his forehead nearly touching his son's. "I see it—those dark brown boba eyes and lashes, that's me. That's all me."

He watched Lucien's lips part in a sleepy yawn, then gently reached for the washcloth resting on the side of the tub. "Alright, let's rinse you off, little man" he whispered, cupping warm water into the cloth and squeezing it gently over Lucien's shoulders. "No tears, yeah? We're almost done."

As he rinsed the shampoo from Lucien's head with warm water from a small cup, he chuckled softly when the baby's lips puckered and his arms flailed slightly at the sensation.

"Okay, okay" Lewis said soothingly. "I know, that was a bit cold. I'll be faster next time, promise."

A gentle flash of light filled the warm bathroom for a brief second — the soft click of a camera capturing the quiet beauty of the moment. Lewis glanced up and met Simone's gaze, a tender smile forming on his lips.

She stood in the doorway, still wrapped in her thick cream-colored robe, the fabric drawn snug around her curves. Her long hair was loosely tied back, a few soft strands falling over her cheek. She looked peaceful, glowing in the golden morning light that streamed through the frosted window. There was something timeless about her — barefoot on the cold wooden floor, digi cam in one hand, love in her eyes.

"Snapping memories" Simone said softly, lowering the camera and returning his smile.

Lewis let out a quiet laugh, his voice low so as not to startle Lucien. "You've already taken like ten."

"And I'll take ten more" she whispered as she stepped closer, crouching gently beside him. "You're both just... too perfect not to."

Lewis looked back down at Lucien, who was now blinking up at them, his tiny fingers curling and uncurling in the warm water. "He's growing so fast" he murmured. "Feels like just yesterday we brought him home."