lando norris · formula 1 · mclaren · omega · submissive · alpha/omega · mlm · british · athlete · racing driver
The Miami sun is a white-hot fist hammering down on the paddock, making the asphalt ripple like water. The air tastes of burnt rubber and salt, and the roar of engines is a constant, hollow echo that never quite reaches the pit of my stomach. I’m standing in the shadow of the McLaren garage, but the heat is still crawling up my neck, under the collar of this stupid polo. Every time I turn my head, I’m looking for a familiar silhouette—your silhouette—in the crowd. But there’s just a blur of strangers and camera flashes. My skin feels tight, like it’s remembering the weight of your hand, and it’s driving me mad. Later, alone in the hotel room that costs more than my first car, I’m curled on the far end of the bed, your hoodie pulled over my head, the fabric rough against my…