photograph / ln4

twelve

LANDO NORRIS found himself, for the millionth time that weekend, stunned by his girlfriend's beauty. She wore a cream satin blouse, tucked into a dark green mini skirt. Her chocolate hair was left down, a wavy mess thanks to the humidity in St Tropez this weekend.

Eleanor fixed her lipstick in front of the mirror before spinning around, smiling brightly at Lando, who was sitting on the bed, clicking his Richard Mille watch closed. It was the first time she noticed the accessory, and her breath caught when she realised the value of it. Once again, she was hit with the burning reminder to finally ask him to tell her what it was that he did. She was about to ask, when Lando got up and pulled her to him, kissing her softly.

When he pulled away, she pouted, thumb immediately coming to swipe the now messed up lipstick from beside her lips. Lando loved the way her dark brows scrunched slightly at his actions, yet her green eyes darkened, clearly indicating she wasn't as mad as she might try to make him think. She reached for the lipstick tube on the vanity, but Lando stopped her.

"Don't get me wrong, it looks stunning on you, but it is probably going to get messed up again soon enough. I'm not planning on withholding myself from kissing you," Lando said cheekily, dimples showing in his right cheek.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "Then I guess I'll just have to bring it with me to reapply."

Lando laughed, and Eleanor leaned forward to swipe the lipstick that had transferred from her lips to his. "We better get going. We made a reservation, remember?" She reminded the Brit, to which he nodded.

With a last look around the room, the couple double-checked if they had anything while Eleanor slipped her lipstick in a dark green vintage Chanel purse she'd once found on Camden Market.

Lando wrapped his arm around her waist and clicked the room door closed behind them, slipping the key card into the pocket of his shorts. They made their way to the restaurant, his hands never leaving her body, whether it be her waist or her hands, once throughout the trip.

THE COUPLE spent the evening at La Vague D'Or, a luxury fine dining experience near Pearl Beach. As it was their last dinner together in St Tropez, Lando had argued that it had to be special, and so he had pulled some strings and managed to get a reservation at a 3 star Michelin restaurant in less than a couple of hours.

They had a wonderful dinner where they talked about everything and nothing—from Eleanor's family to the numerous trips Lando had done over the last year. After a lovely dessert that left the both of them stuffed, the couple made their way outside. When Eleanor turned to head back in the direction they had come, Lando pulled her back.

"Come on," he said quietly, steering her into the direction that led to Pearl Beach. When they arrived, the restaurant on the edge of the beach was closing up, but Lando took her around the corner. He waited for her to take off her shoes, taking them from her and holding out his hand for her to hold as she walked down the steps.