#hamiltonxyn

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Y/N’s POV

You couldn’t believe what you were reading. Lewis Hamilton had just asked if you wanted to meet up before he left for his next race. You stared at your phone, rereading the message multiple times to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. This was beyond surreal.

After a moment of internal panic and excitement, you typed back a quick response: “I’d love to! Let me know when and where.”

Your hands trembled as you hit send. What would you even talk about? How were you going to handle this without completely embarrassing yourself? Despite the anxiety bubbling inside, there was also a part of you that felt… calm. Lewis didn’t seem like someone who would judge you, and after the kindness he’d shown in his previous message, you had no doubt that this wasn’t just a pity invite. He genuinely seemed interested in getting to know you.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed again. “How about tonight? There’s a little place by the Thames that’s quiet. I could use the escape.”

You agreed, heart pounding in your chest. Tonight. You were going to meet Lewis Hamilton in person, one-on-one. The thought made you dizzy, but you quickly pulled yourself together. You had a few hours to get ready, and you were determined to make the most of this unexpected opportunity.

Lewis’ POV

Lewis sat back on the couch, glancing at his phone after sending the message. He wasn’t sure why he had reached out again. Maybe it was the way you had looked at him—like you saw the man behind the racing suit, behind the fame. There was something refreshing about that. Something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

As he stared out of the window of his London hotel room, the city’s skyline illuminated in the distance, he felt a strange sense of anticipation. This wasn’t like meeting fans at events or signing autographs. It was something more personal. He wondered what you would be like in a quieter setting, away from the noise of the crowd and the cameras.

Part of him felt guilty for dragging you into his world. He had seen the backlash you were getting online. People assumed things about you, about your motives. He hated that side of fame—the assumptions, the cruelty, the lack of privacy. He didn’t want you to get hurt just because you’d had a chance encounter with him.

But something told him this was worth pursuing, even if it was just for one night of normalcy.

Y/N’s POV

Later that evening, you arrived at the spot Lewis had mentioned—a quaint little café near the river. The warm lights from inside cast a soft glow across the cobblestone street, and you could hear the faint sounds of jazz music playing in the background. You spotted Lewis at a corner table by the window, dressed casually in a black hoodie and a cap pulled low over his face. He looked completely different from the man on the racetrack, but there was no mistaking him.

As you approached, he looked up and smiled, standing to greet you. “Hey, you made it,” he said warmly, pulling out a chair for you.

“I almost didn’t believe it was real,” you admitted with a laugh, sitting down. “I feel like I’m in a dream.”

He chuckled. “It’s real, I promise. How have you been holding up? I saw some of the stuff online. I hope it hasn’t been too much.”

You appreciated the concern in his voice. “It’s… been a lot. But I’m okay. I didn’t expect any of this to happen.”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, looking out at the river. “I get it. I’m sorry you got pulled into it. People can be harsh when they don’t know the full story.”

There was a moment of silence as the two of you took in the peaceful surroundings. It felt strange, being here with him like this, but at the same time, it felt right. The conversation flowed easily, moving from the chaos of race weekends to more personal topics. You talked about your life, your job, your love for racing, and how you had admired Lewis for years—not just for his skills on the track, but for the way he used his platform to speak out on important issues.

Lewis listened intently, nodding along as you spoke. When it was his turn, he shared stories from his early career, about the pressure he had faced as the first Black driver in F1, about the sacrifices he had made along the way. He opened up in a way you hadn’t expected, and it made you realize that beneath the fame and success, he was just a person trying to navigate life like everyone else.

As the night went on, you both seemed to forget about the world outside. The hours slipped by unnoticed until the café was nearly empty, the soft hum of the city outside the only reminder that time was passing.

But just as you were about to suggest leaving, Lewis’ phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, his expression hardening slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice taking on a serious tone. “Something’s come up.”

You watched as he quickly typed out a response, his face a mask of concentration. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. You had been having such a great time, and now reality was crashing back in.

“It’s okay,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. “I understand.”

But Lewis shook his head. “It’s not what you think. There’s some drama back at the team—something about the media running with a story about us.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I thought we’d get away from all of that tonight.”

Your heart sank. “What kind of story?”

“Apparently, someone caught wind of us meeting up tonight. They’re spinning it into something more than it is. They’re saying you’re just using me for attention.” His voice was tight with frustration.

Your chest tightened. Of course, the media would twist things. You had prepared yourself for that, but hearing it from Lewis made it feel more real, more damaging.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you said quietly, feeling a weight settle over you. “Maybe it’s better if we don’t—”

“No.” Lewis cut you off, his eyes locking with yours. “This isn’t your fault, and I don’t care what they say. I wanted to meet you, and I’m glad I did. I’m just… tired of all of this. The scrutiny. The constant judgment.”

You were about to respond when the door of the café suddenly swung open, and a man with a camera stepped inside. His eyes locked onto you and Lewis, and before you could react, the flash went off.

Lewis was on his feet in an instant, his hand gripping your arm protectively. “We need to go. Now.”

You barely had time to process what was happening before he was leading you out the back door, into the cool night air. Your heart raced as you followed him down a narrow alley, the sound of footsteps behind you growing fainter as you turned the corner.

When you finally stopped, Lewis turned to face you, his expression a mixture of frustration and apology. “I’m so sorry about this. I didn’t think anyone would find us here.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said, your voice steady despite the adrenaline still pumping through you. “I knew this could happen.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just didn’t want to drag you into this mess.”

You smiled softly, taking a step closer to him. “I’m not scared, Lewis. I’m here because I want to be.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find something he hadn’t realized he was missing. Then, before you could react, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss.

When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with uncertainty, as if he wasn’t sure what to expect. But you smiled, your heart pounding in your chest for an entirely different reason now.

“I’m glad I met you too,” you whispered.

And for the first time that night, the chaos of the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, standing together against all odds.