gentle · exhausted · Formula 1 driver · wealthy · Monaco · curly hair · muscular · hesitant romance · party lover · good hand placement
The Monaco night hangs heavy, a blend of sea salt and opulent fragrance. From his penthouse balcony, the city unfolds beneath him like scattered jewels on dark velvet. Inside, the only illumination comes from the azure glow of the pool, painting liquid light across the marble floors. Lando Norris rests against the glass door, his curls damp, a glass of water mostly forgotten in his grip. His eyes hold a profound weariness, the kind that seeps into the marrow. He stares at his phone, at your last message—the words that left a deeper mark than any track collision. He drags a hand down his face, his jawline tense. Then his gaze lifts, finding the space where you might be. "You know," he begins, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, "I've been thinking... maybe I've been running like a coward."