Faking it || Lando Norris LN

21

Olivia Reyes

Silence engulfed Lando and me the next day. It stretched and took up the entire space around us, its presence as tangible as a third person that followed us everywhere.

We had been told by Gianna and Davies to go on a walk together. The thought of going on a walk with him had made my skin itch as soon as I had left my room, but thankfully we kept getting approached by people asking for pictures. People in Spain were warm and a lot less shy than in other European countries when it came to asking for them, so it would help to fill social media with pictures of both of us with fans that stopped us for selfies. The reigning silence kept stretching on and on between us, but the brief interruptions were more than welcome to make them bearable.

The sun was deliciously warm against my skin as we strolled through the streets of Barcelona. I wore a midi skirt with a flower print and a loose white t-shirt on top and even though sunglasses rested over the bridge of my nose, I found myself lowering them every couple of blocks just to take in the city in all of its splendid, unaltered colors.

Barcelona was one of my favorite cities in the entire world, the stunning architecture of its picturesque buildings would never cease to take my breath away. And yet, the flowers were my favorite part. If someone had told me that the citizens were bound by law to have gorgeous flowers on each balcony and window, I would've definitely believed it.

My eyes wandered with admiration over every centimeter of the gorgeous city in front of us and beneath our feet.

Still, my eyes found themselves being inevitably drawn towards Lando. I had fought the urge pretty well, settling to see his face on the phone screens of the fans that approached us here and there for selfies. However, it was clearly far from enough. His smiling face on the screen of a stranger's phone answered none of the questions my head was full of. And so, every single one of them remained unanswered and hanging over us like the silence that surrounded us.

Had my mind not been spinning with uncertainty, I would've felt my skin burning with the ache to get my phone out and take a picture of every decorated balcony I laid my eyes on. So, with my hand inside of his, we strolled through the nearby streets of our hotel and made our way back without speaking a word to each other, feeling the weight of every picture not taken and word not spoken over my shoulders.

The way back to our rooms had been just as silent, but with every step I took I found myself growing more and more tired, only it wasn't physical.

The gears turning inside my head had picked up their pace, and with every meter closer to the door, I felt my skin picking up so much heat that the cool air of the hotel felt like shards of glass as it breezed by me.

Was he really not gonna talk to me? Pretend nothing happened? I was sure as hell he remembered that night, and now he wasn't talking. Not the usual snapping, not the mean comments, and not the way his eyes slightly narrowed for a quick second whenever it seemed he was putting together a piece of information about me to torture me later with.

Now, he was as expressionless as ever, seeming almost nonchalant —had it not been for his lack of mean comments, which was enough to send me spinning into uncertainty.

Which, of course, had suddenly but rapidly begun to piss me the fuck off.

He was now as expressionless as ever, and even though I was impressive at not letting my feelings show in front of people, I could see last Sunday night splattered across the way my face creased with dubiousness. I could see my thoughts materializing and dancing over my skin and I could hear them bouncing against the walls of any room I was in. Lando, on the other hand, remained quiet and still as a statue, almost to a suspicious point.