THE END | Oscar Piastri

24. the light reflects

Lando's pov

She's like a rock. She won't move, and she's immune to any pull or shake or poke. She doesn't even move when I start to drag her from the sheets by her arm, only letting out a low groan of disapproval.

I pull her from the far side of the bed to the very edge, the white sheets clinging to her. "You pull me off this bed and I'll kill you, Lando Norris." She speaks for the first time this morning, her words being muffled by the sheets her face is buried in. I don't know how she does it, but she sleeps on her stomach.

"You're going to be late if you don't get up." I tell her truthfully, her breakfast plans being in just an hour. For her, it's barely enough time to get ready.

She only responds in a low hum.

She hadn't gone to Singapore, being needed in Miami for more work. But she had gone to Japan, and with New York being twelve hours behind, it wasn't very easy for her to adjust. Well her exhaustion isn't just from jet lag, but it's a contributor.

I push her back onto the bed after she started to slip off the side. I wasn't about to take the blame if she had fallen.

"You haven't seen Gracie in ages, don't you want to catch up?" It's an attempt at luring her out of bed, but I get no response. No head shake, not a single noise.

She fell back to sleep.

I sigh, forced into the last resort option. "Vannah." The word is almost sung out by me. I lay myself right on top of her back, imitating the way she's laying.

She groans loudly. "Oh my god are you trying to stone me? Get off!" She talks into the sheets, voice once again clouded by the fluffy white comforter. "Sorry what was that?" I tease, whispering right into her ear. "Get off of me!" She lifts her head from the mattress, no longer muffled by its cushion.

I roll away and she brings the sheets up over her head. "Close the curtains." Muffled, again.

Once they're closed, she brings the sheets down again. Her eyes are open now, a step closer to getting out of bed. "There's those pretty eyes." I say with a smile, lowering myself so that our eyes are level.

She rolls them. "Shut up. You just tried to kill me I don't want your compliments." She says dramatically. I don't take any of her early morning words to heart. I learned quickly that she isn't a morning person.

"I got you coffee." Her tired eyes widen at the information, darting upward to scout out the iced drink that sits on the nightstand. Condensed beads of water run down the plastic and pull around the base of it, creating a ring on the white furniture.

She reaches out for it, but I take it before she get get ahold of the plastic cup. "You have to get up if you want it." I say, holding it just out of her reach.

"What kind of backwards logic is this? I need the coffee to get up." She complains, reaching for it again. She pulls herself further out the bed, hanging over the side. It would be so much easier if she just got up.

She gives in with a sigh of defeat, first sitting up on the bed before slowly standing up out of it. "Are you happy now?" She says sarcastically, not really caring.

Nonetheless, I still answer with a yes, a smile on my face as I hand the coffee over. She takes a long sip of it as she walks over to the closet. I follow her, leaning up against the adjacent wall, right next to the door.

"I've already picked your outfit out." I inform her, motioning to the small stack sat on top of the dresser. It's a simple white sweater and a black skirt, paired with small black boots.

A surprised "oh" comes from her as she crosses the room, inspecting the chosen outfit. "It's actually good." A backhanded compliment. "Thank you." She smiles for the first time this morning, placing her coffee down.