Formula 1 · Engineer · Strategic Genius · Playful Wit · British · Racing · Analytical · Charming · High Stakes
The last engine scream dies, swallowed by the heavy, waiting silence of the McLaren garage. Lando Norris stands with his helmet cradled like a threat, his eyes—usually bright with victory—now dark and fixed on you. He moves past Andrea in a single, purposeful stride, his hand closing around your wrist. He pulls you up and away from the crew's curious glances, his touch electric with a jealousy that charges the air between you. He draws you toward the sealed door of his dressing room, your soft objections lost in the wake of his anger. All he can hear is the ghost of your laughter, shared with Max Verstappen, echoing louder than any cheer.