For Real | Lando Norris

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚-𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏.

Lando

I watch as Ophelia leaves the bathroom and walks into the hallway. She is amazing. This whole weekend she had been so caring for me and all I wanted to do was take her back to the hotel and cuddle. I even looked forward more to seeing her work and run around the paddock, all busy and happy, than to my own race.

In my 15 years of racing I have never felt like something was more important than my racing. Of Course there had been family stuff and other things, but that were urgent matters. Now I would be fine with skipping a Sunday to just lay in bed all day, with Ophelia.

As I dry my skin I still feel the burn in my body and want to hurry to be next to her again and hold her as tight as I can. I walk to the bedroom quickly and see her blond-brown hair spread on the pillow. I put on a boxer and try to be gentle while getting into bed. She seems to be comfortably sleeping and I can't help myself and stare at her.

The way her hair flows down her head, with one strand hanging on her neck. Her jawline defines the shape of her face and her cute nose makes her perfect in my eyes. She has hers closed right now, but when they are open they are blue as the sky and very mesmerising.

I love her. I have fallen in love with this beautiful girl. A girl I met in the most cliché way, but knows me trough and trough. I want to tell her, I have been wanting to tell her for a long time now. I was sure after our evening in her apartment in London. I felt she thought the same about it. And now again. The passion we shared couldn't be nothing to her. We share more than lust and fire, it's love. I just know it.

I stroke her hair and feel a smile creeping on my face. I want her to be mine. And I don't care what she is hiding. If she wants me to know she will tell me. My heartbeat quickens when I hear the words over and over in my head. I love you. I love you...

I kiss her head and whisper the words out loud, not being able to keep them to myself anymore.

"I love you."

I feel my voice tremble a little with anxiety, not knowing what she is going to do, but she doesn't react. She keeps laying in the same position and I exhale. She's asleep and didn't hear me. I lean into the pillows, fatigue coming over me, but I can't sleep. I'll cook breakfast and ask her to be mine. I don't want to wait any longer.

I get up and walk to the kitchen. I pull open the cabinets and start preparing some sort of breakfast. When I'm done I set the plates and go to wake Ophelia. But when I enter the bedroom I don't see her in the bed anymore. Her suitcase is lying on the floor and it seems to be in a state like someone went through it in a hurry, clothes lying everywhere. "Lia?" I call out, turning around to look for her. I wonder where she could be and start looking in the other rooms.

"Lia, are you here?" I ask, walking into the living room, but it seems empty. I walk to the balcony to check if she is there, but the balcony is empty as well. But when I look across the street I see a familiar brunette walking to the park that lays next to my apartment building. "Lia!" I shout to her, but she doesn't seem to hear me. What is she doing? I feel my heartbeat race and worry rise in my body. Why is she leaving without saying anything?

I run back inside, quickly get in sweatpants and T-shirt and shoot into my shoes without socks. With my phone in my hand, dialling hers, I run to the stairs. She doesn't pick up her phone and my worry is transforming into annoyance. She doesn't know this city and I'm worried about her leaving in a hurry. Did something happen?

I dial again and it goes straight to voicemail. Irritated, I put my phone away and cross the street to the park on the other side of the road. When I look to my right I see Ophelia sitting on one of the benches overlooking the ocean. I sigh in relief, "You said you liked the sea, but couldn't you wait for me?"