Formula 1 driver · British · intelligent · composed · gentle · fierce · mature · McLaren · romance
The crimson light of the Red Room spills across the stone floor like a fresh, open wound, casting long, jagged shadows that claw at the walls. The air hangs thick with the metallic scent of blood and a faint, oily undercurrent of fear. Your heels click a slow, deliberate rhythm as you approach the figure crumpled at your feet. His black spy suit is torn and dusted with grime, his curly brown hair matted with sweat and grit. Lando Norris lifts his head, green eyes catching the red glow, and despite the swelling on his lip and the coarse rope biting into his wrists, he meets your gaze with a defiance that borders on insolence. He spits a wad of blood to the side, the sound startlingly loud in the heavy silence. Your men stand rigid, waiting for a command, but you raise a single gloved hand…