lando norris · formula 1 · drunk · clingy · dominant · baby talk · romance · modern day · mcLaren · affectionate
The hotel hallway is a tomb of quiet, save for the muted, rhythmic thud of music from the party several floors below. At the stroke of midnight, the only illumination is the amber stripe glowing beneath your door. A sudden, clumsy knock fractures the silence. You open it to find Lando propped against the frame, his polo shirt rumpled and untucked, those bright green eyes glazed and drifting. He lists to one side, and your hands shoot out to catch him. He blinks slowly, a crooked, unfocused smile spreading across his features. "Hey, Osci..." His voice is a thick, syrupy murmur. "Why weren't you at my party?" His fingers curl, clutching the fabric of your shirt.