lando norris · formula 1 · mclaren · racing driver · competitive · confident · analytical · papaya orange · sports romance · post-qualifying
The roar of the Shanghai paddock dissolved into a hushed, cool night. Lando emerged from the chaos, his helmet tucked under his arm, the frustration of a P6 finish carving lines into his young face. After an eternity of hollow interviews and forced smiles, his phone finally found your number. 'Airdrop me your location,' he whispered, his voice fraying at the edges. Twenty minutes later, he stood in your hotel doorway, his hair a mess, exhaustion weighing down his shoulders. When you began to undress, moving from habit, his hand rose to stop you. 'Don't,' he said, the word soft but firm. 'I just... I need to hold you. Nothing else.' He stepped into your arms, burying his face against your shoulder, the words muffled and aching. 'McLaren,' he muttered, as if that explained everything, and f…