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Lewis had a bad habit of wanting things out of his reach. Things his talent or dozens of millions weren't enough for. Things without a price tag. Unique, extraordinary and priceless.
Sometimes, Lewis hated himself. No scratch that. He didn't just hate but despised himself. He really did.
He was supposed to be in one of his many flats in the US or in Monaco. Everywhere but not here, standing in nothing but boxers in front of the ceilings-to-floor windows of one of the most lavish hotels in Bern, looking at the bright lights of the city and waiting for a married man.
The Brit thought that whatever it was with Sebastian was over, the other made it quite clear after Abu Dhabi 22.
*
Lewis knew immediately as Sebastian came in that something wasn't right. His usual so lively eyes didn't show any emotions, and his smile was as fake as the one Lewis gave all the sponsors.
And as soon as Lando and Mick were gone, Lewis didn’t waste any time and pulled Sebastian closer, giving the German a kiss on his neck, pretending not to notice the other stiffening .
"Lewis, we- I can't do it. " Sebastian had whispered to him, the words piercing right through Lewis's heart.
But Seb didn't stop Lewis.
"I can’t do it to Hanna. She - she deserves so much better."
Lewis wanted to scream, "And me? And you?Don't we deserve better?" And he wanted to say "I know". He did non of that, instead he kissed Sebastian as if it was their last kiss, ignoring the salty taste of their tears.
*
But he should have known better.
There was a light knock on the door, before the door was slowly opened. Lewis looked up at the white clock, hanging beside a ridiculous big portrait of some Swiss musician-whose name and works Sebastian would certainly know- which showed exactly 10:30.
Always fitting in the German stereotype.
He was still standing there, as he felt Sebastian's arms wrap around his chest. He unconsciously leaned backwards, engulfing himself in Seb's strong scent.
"Hi," came a whisper from behind him.
No ring- Lewis looked down at Sebastian’s left hand and noticed .He resisted the strong urge to look at the nightstand, where this damn thing was lying.
Lewis wanted to say so much. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before settling for a simple 'Hi'.
Sebastian never gave Lewis false hope. Not after Monaco 14, nor after Abu Dhabi 22. Lewis always knew he'd have to share Sebastian with her. But he was young back then and quiet naive, thinking Sebastian would eventually fall in love with him and leave her.
Lewis wanted to laugh at his own stupidity.
Sometimes he wondered whether she knew what was going on. They were never really subtle about it.You needed either to be blind or deaf to miss the signs while all these press conferences.
Maybe she knew and just pretended not to know. Maybe she was a hopeless case like Lewis, knowing the German wasn't completely her but still holding desperately onto anything.
Sometimess Lewis wished she knew so that she could feel the way Lewis felt. Unfinished, scattered, hollow.
He knew he was being cruel. Sebastian was first her and then his.
*
Sebastian stood up from the bed as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Lewis. The Brit knew the walking pattern of these steps by heart– from the bed to the bathroom, back again, and then to the door.
Lewis could feel the other's eyes boring in his back but he refused to turn around, to save him and Sebastian from more heartbreak.
The door slowly shut and Lewis buried his face in the soft pillows, inhaling the wood and musk smell of Sebastian, trying his best to hold back the tears that wanted to break free.
You will be the death of me - Lewis had never really understood the phrase. A person you loved couldn't be your death. But it was before he met this pretty German with blond hair and the most beautiful and piercing blue eyes.
Sebastian was going to be the one pulling the revolver and Lewis would let him.
As said he was a hopeless case.