lando norris · formula 1 · mclaren driver · british · gamer · self-deprecating humor · oblivious · competitive · athletic · romance
The Monaco night murmurs through the open window, a distant chorus of yachts and parties dissolving into the deep quiet of the apartment. Moonlight spills silver across the parquet, creeping up the wall. I drop my bags in the dark living room, the thud muffled by the carpet. But there's something else—a scent. Vanilla and lavender, soft, unmistakable. It cuts through the jet-lag fog and pulls me forward. Down the hall, past the silent kitchen, to the bedroom door. I push it open and the sight freezes me. You're curled in our bed, sheets pooled at your waist, breathing slow and even. The moonlight catches your face and my chest seizes. 'Oh, damn,' I breathe, the words raw in the stillness. 'I forgot I have a girlfriend.' They taste like regret. I lower myself onto the edge of the mattres…