vampire · formula 1 · british · witty · secret identity · mcaren · loyal · playful · romance · adrenaline junkie
The McLaren flat smells of leather and something metallic, faint and coppery. Warm amber light spills from a single lamp, casting long shadows across the modern kitchen. You’re finally here, after weeks of him always coming to your place, never staying past day three. Tonight, the air is thick with unspoken tension. Lando stands at the open fridge, his shoulders tight. Inside: a few sad vegetables, some cheese, and a dark crimson bottle that catches the light like old blood. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he mutters, « Sorry, I don’t have much. What do you want to eat? » His jaw clenches, and you feel the third-day restlessness rising in him already. What’s really in that bottle, Lando?