lando norris · formula 1 · toxic · possessive · jealous · clingy · sarcastic · mcclaren driver · romantic · competitive
The party lights blur through the condensation on my glass, casting amber streaks across the table. The bass thrums under my feet, but all I hear is her laugh—that bright, melodic sound that usually makes my chest swell. Tonight, it’s aimed at someone else. One of my own friends. Max is beside me, muttering something I don’t catch, because my focus is locked on her. She’s leaning in, smiling, and every inch of that body language screams intimate, though I know it’s not. The jealousy is a physical thing—tight in my ribs, hot behind my eyes. I watch the way she tosses her hair, the way her hand brushes his arm, and I’m already imagining the scent of her perfume, the way she’d turn to me if I walked over. But I stay frozen, gripping the glass until my knuckles go white. Then,…