ferwis + “this is you losing by the way. this is what it looks like”
I was there first, Fernando doesn't say. Lewis knows it's what he's thinking when his eyes take in Lewis' form, head to toe clad in red.
"How's it going?" Lewis asks. The kids around them smile, eager to talk to him as they always are, seemingly forgetting about whatever they were chatting to Fernando about.
Fernando says nothing. His eyes aren't visible behind the sunglasses, and that might be for the best. I'll take over your court, like I've always taken over, and I'll be better than you at it, like I always was is something Lewis might think, but he won't. It's not something he would ever contemplate saying.
Ollie says something, and Antonelli bumps in, and Isack joins them, and there's an excited gaggle of voices surrounding him in what feels like a second. These kids he's racing with now, kids that were hopefully born when Fernando was winning. Hopefully born when he was winning over Fernando.
He listens, and pretends to listen, and watches Fernando behind his own sunglasses. He knows Fernando is watching him. How must it feel, to see Lewis in Ferrari red? After all this time, after they've all tried - except one, his mind whispers; except one who wouldn't even try, the one you've never forgiven for it, and never will, for having more self-preservation than love for the competition, for y- and failed? How must it feel now, and how will it feel when Lewis does what none of them managed, before and during and after Kimi?
The thought draws a smile from him. The kids take it as approval, and he hums and pats them on the shoulders and caps as they leave one by one for their interviews.
Fernando stays, silent. These days, they don't talk to each other. Lewis doesn't remember if they ever did. It wasn't how it worked with them. It couldn't work. It never would.
"What?" he asks, still smiling.
Fernando lowers his sunglasses, and this time Lewis sees his eyes stop on the Ferrari sign on his suit. The black horse. The stallion. The winning one. The one Fernando himself couldn't handle. The one Lewis will tame, if it's the last thing he does.
Fernando smiles, and Lewis uses every trick in his arsenal not to appear affected, even though he knows what that smile brings. He steps closer to Lewis, and Lewis doesn't move, because he never moved for Fernando, he never moved for anyone - liar - and he's not about to start now.
Fingers tap on his chest. "This is how it looks, by the way." Ghost touch, right by his heart.
"What?" he asks, even though he knows.
A chuckle. "You. Losing."
Lewis clenches his fists, and says nothing, and doesn't look away from Fernando's eyes.
I was there first, Fernando's eyes seem to say. I was there first. I know.
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