~Him & I until the end~ Lewis Hamilton | YN

Part 37 : Ferrari

Part 39: The First Lap in Red

The morning sun cast a golden glow over Fiorano, Ferrari's private test track, as Lewis Hamilton stepped into the garage. His red Ferrari race suit felt different—new, unfamiliar, but powerful.

Today wasn't just about a car launch or a press conference. Today, he would drive a Ferrari Formula 1 car for the first time.

Y/N stood nearby, rocking Ophelia in her arms. Their daughter's big brown eyes blinked up at the bright lights, her tiny hands gripping the edge of her Ferrari onesie.

"She has no idea she's witnessing history, does she?" Y/N whispered, pressing a kiss to Ophelia's soft cheek.

Charles Leclerc, standing beside her, smirked. "No, but give it a few years. She'll grow up knowing her dad is a legend."

Y/N chuckled. "You mean her honorary uncle won't let her forget?"

Charles put a hand on his chest, feigning innocence. "Moi? I would never."

Meanwhile, in the garage, Lewis ran a gloved hand over the sleek red bodywork of his car. It was beautiful. Aggressive. A machine built to win.

Fred Vasseur approached with a nod. "Alright, Lewis. Time to see what she can do."

Lewis exhaled, adjusting his helmet strap. He had done this a million times before—but this felt different.

"Let's get to work."

On Track

The Ferrari roared to life.

The deep, guttural sound of the engine sent a shiver down Lewis' spine. This wasn't a Mercedes. It had its own rhythm, its own heartbeat.

"Radio check," his new engineer called.

"Loud and clear," Lewis responded, voice steady.

And then—he was off.

The Ferrari exploded forward, power coursing through its frame as he shifted through the gears. The first lap was cautious, measured. Feeling the balance. The weight. The grip.

By the second lap, he was pushing harder. Faster. More aggressive.

Turn in. Throttle. Let it flow.

The car responded. She fought him in corners but came alive on the straights. This machine wanted to be tamed.

On the pit wall, Y/N watched, breath caught in her throat. She had seen Lewis drive for years—but this was different.

"He looks fast already," Charles murmured beside her.

Y/N smirked. "He hasn't even started pushing yet."

Ophelia let out an excited squeal as the Ferrari roared past.

Charles laughed. "She's definitely your daughter."

The Return to the Garage

After several laps, Lewis pulled into the pits. As soon as the car stopped, the Ferrari engineers swarmed around it, gathering data, listening for his first impressions.

Lewis removed his helmet, his face glowing with adrenaline.

The Ferrari garage was alive with energy, mechanics buzzing around as the engineers analyzed the data from Lewis' first run. But all Lewis could focus on was the feeling still coursing through him.

That car had fire.

He removed his gloves and balaclava, running a hand over his damp curls. His heart was still racing—not from nerves, but from excitement.

This was it. This was the next chapter.

Y/N approached, Ophelia still in her arms. Their daughter babbled happily, her tiny fingers reaching for the fabric of Lewis' race suit.

Lewis reached out, brushing a gentle hand over Ophelia's cheek before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "What did you think, baby girl? Did Daddy look good in red?"

Ophelia let out a tiny giggle, grabbing a fistful of his sleeve.

Y/N smirked. "She's already a Ferrari fan."

Lewis chuckled, wrapping an arm around Y/N's waist. "Guess it runs in the family now."

From the corner of his eye, Charles approached, still smirking.

"So?" Charles tilted his head, crossing his arms. "What's the verdict?"

Lewis exhaled, shaking his head in amazement. "She's a beast. Quick on the straights, aggressive in the corners. It's gonna take some work, but..." He trailed off, looking at the car. "She's got championship potential."

Fred Vasseur clapped a hand on Lewis' shoulder. "That's what we like to hear."

The Ferrari engineers exchanged eager glances, already fired up for what was to come. They knew what having Lewis Hamilton in their team meant.

This wasn't just another season.

This was a mission. A statement.

Lewis looked over at Charles. "You ready to fight?"

Charles grinned. "I was born ready."

Y/N groaned. "God, you two are going to be insufferable."

Charles smirked. "Oh, absolutely."

Lewis threw an arm around Charles' shoulder. "Better get used to it."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. This was going to be a wild season.

Lewis Hamilton. Charles Leclerc. Ferrari.

The battle for the championship had already begun.