Faking it || Lando Norris LN

25

Olivia Reyes

Wednesday. Week-off.

I took a last look at myself in the mirror, taking deep breaths as I examined my outfit for today.

By the sight from my window, it was a sunny day in London, but the weather was still cool. I'd decided on light, wide-leg jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather suit jacket that matched the small black leather purse on my shoulder. It looked casual, yet put together.

I made sure my hair was in place before I stepped out of the room and made my way to the kitchen, playing with my hair to convince myself I was actually doing something to it rather than procrastinate leaving the safe space the guest room had become.

It was London-Eye-Wednesday.

Picture-kissing-Wednesday.

I wished I could be one of the girls that played it cool. I wished I could be nonchalant about all of this —kissing Lando Norris, or anyone for that matter. Needless to say, I wasn't. I was the girl that had already spent around 10 minutes in front of the mirror, thinking she could somehow procrastinate her way out of this while she tugged parts of her outfit and pieces of hair as if it did anything.

I pulled out my phone and went over the note I'd written the day before during the meeting, going over everything since I knew I wouldn't be able to do so once we left the house. I can do this. I can do this.

I took a deep breath and shut the guest room door behind me, making my way down the stairs.

"Look who's up!" Max greeted me with a smile while he served himself some of the bacon and eggs on the frying pan. "I made breakfast, come get some."

I smiled back, soaking up his light mood and how comfortable he looked with his messy hair and night clothes although it was already the afternoon. Lando was seated on one of the high stools of the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone as he ate and only looking up for a slight second as I entered the kitchen. I pressed my lips together and gave him a nod as we entered each other's vision frame.

"Why are you in your pj's, Max? Are you not joining us today?" I inquired as I took a plate for myself, passing next to him. "Thank you for cooking, by the way."

"Hope you enjoy it! They don't call me Chef Fewtrell for nothing," he winked.

"Literally no one calls you that," Lando said, averting his eyes from his phone to shoot Max a quick look.

"No, but I will start calling you Mr. Grumpy if you keep this attitude-thing going, mate," Max replied, making me chuckle as he raised his brows with a teasingly warning look on his face, to which Lando rolled his eyes and went back to scrolling his phone. "However, I promised my parents I'd stay at their place for a couple of days for my sister's birthday. I'll be back for the race though."

"That's sweet. Hope you have a great time." I smiled, taking a sip from my orange juice. And then, of course, proceeded to space out with the realization that Lando and I would be completely by ourselves God knows how many days.

"Sucks I won't be able to see Mr. Grumpy acting coupley for the first time in his bloody life. I would've paid big bucks to see that up close," he laughed. "That Gianna girl is a bloody geniu—"

"Car's outside," Lando said before I could even open my mouth to reply, taking a last sip of his orange juice and standing up to head towards the door without saying anything else.

I quickly finished the last couple of bites, put my plate in the sink, and then turned around to give Max a quick goodbye hug before heading off.

I stepped outside of the house and found Lando leaning against the shiny black SUV that awaited us, still scrolling on his phone. He was wearing an entirely black outfit. Black t-shirt, black jeans, black leather jacket, black tennis shoes, even black glasses stood perched on the bridge of his nose.