Faking it || Lando Norris LN

70

While David dreamed of the moon, and Olivia dreamed of her very own four-wheeled rocket ship, Jorge used to dream of love.

Anyone could bet that it wasn't easy to grow up being the male, youngest sibling, who dreams of love while all the other kids dream of being firefighters, presidents, astronauts, or racing drivers, but Jorge had been lucky enough to be born into a family was love was seen as an equally respectable accomplishment.

He had always been the most sentimental of the three siblings. His heart was so big it couldn't fit into words or hugs. It had always been meant to spill over to music. He'd tried drawing once or twice, but felt color never did it justice, and photographs could never quite capture the warmth he felt inside whenever he saw two people embracing.

Music, however...

Jorge would close his eyes and feel a single chord reverberating all over his body. He would see the hundred different stories that a melody could hold if one decided to change a single note, or end a song with a major key or a minor chord.

Olivia had dreamed of love as well, only she did it quietly.

It gripped her bones tightly. It hadn't spilled over to music, like Jorge. She had found a space for it inside photographs, but most importantly... it ran through her veins.

She could see it all around, the same way one smells food wherever they go when one's hungry.

Right now, love was in front of her. It was an open secret displayed in each of the night lights of the Parisian landscape she stared at.

Love was all over her skin. Tiny, delicate droplets of water kissed her hair and skin, like glitter falling from heaven to decorate her crown.

Love was also popping a bottle of champagne open back home, in the shape of her family as they waited for her to call again —all of them a lot drunker as the afternoon had gone on for them, marveling with celebrations.

Love gave a few steps toward her on a Parisian balcony, staring at the glittering rain in Olivia's hair with his lips parted, ready to speak.

Olivia gasped as Lando revealed himself from the shadows.

He hadn't been at the celebration. Even with Olivia's determination to not look for him in the crowd, she'd been aware of his absence.

Here he was now, though. Standing in front of her with black pants, a white dress shirt with the top buttons undone, and soaked curls framing his forehead as if he'd been outside before her.

Her pulse quickened immediately, panicking with the thought of them being seen, but as Olivia looked back at the party she'd left, she noticed all the curtains had been drawn on the side of the penthouse that led to the balcony. No one could see them. A breath of relief escaped her mouth, but her mind was still racing.

Lando's mouth opened.

"You can't talk to me, but I can," Olivia began. "So please, listen when I say—"

"I love you, Liv. I'm sorry," he interrupted.

The silence surrounding them was deafening.

"Those would've been six really expensive words, had anyone heard them," is all she can bring herself to say.

"Did you?" Lando's brows arched in pain. "That's all that matters."

Had she heard the words? A great pang gripped her heart.

"I did."

Olivia wrapped her arms around herself. There were too many questions hanging in the air. She didn't know yet if the heaviness felt like a warm blanket, protecting them like two little children inside a fort from the outside world as Lando finally spoke to her, or if it felt like the suffocating weight one must feel before seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.