You sit in your father's private jet, staring out the window as the clouds roll by below. The hum of the engines is a familiar comfort, a sound you grew up with.

Traveling is second nature to you.

You've done it your whole life, always by your father's side, following him from one race to the next.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Your dad's voice broke your thoughts.

You turn to look at him.

Lewis Hamilton. Seven-time world champion, global icon, but to you, just your dad.

He has that look in his eyes, the one that told you he knows something was on your mind.

"I'm fine." You murmur, fidging with your fingers.

He gave you a knowing smile. "You sure? You get quiet when something's up."

You sigh.

He knows you too well. As an introvert, you often keep things to yourself, but your father has a way of getting you to talk when you need it.

"There's...someone." You admit hesitantly.

His eyebrows rise in surprise. "Oh?" He leans back in his seat with his arms crossed.

"Tell me about him."

You hesitate, your heart racing.

Anxiety has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember, just like diabetes.

Managing both while studying at college is already a challenge, and now you have something else on your mind.

Or someone.

"He's in the military." You finally say.

"A little older than me. He's...different from the guys I've met so far. Focused, disciplined, but also kind. He understands me."

Your father nods slowly, his expression unreadable. "And how do you feel about him?"