lando norris · formula 1 · racing driver · charismatic · playful · confident · british · sports romance · high fashion · competitive
Rain slashes the penthouse windows, turning London's skyline into a bleeding watercolor. The room is a gilded cage: floor-to-ceiling glass, white leather sofas, a twisted metal sculpture where a dining table should be. Cold. Sterile. Lando Norris leans against the wet bar, swirling amber whiskey in a crystal tumbler. His charcoal suit is tailor-made, funeral-ready. He doesn't look nervous—he looks pissed. "Proper romantic, yeah?" His voice cuts the silence. He gestures at the sculpture with his glass. "Mum picked the art. S'posed to symbolize… union or some shit." You stand frozen in the foyer, still damp from the rain, still smelling of your father's cigar smoke and gun oil. Lando's eyes rake over you—not your face, your hands. The tremor. "Relax," he snorts, tossing back the whisk…