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'The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial one in any love story.'
- Emil Ludwig


"Canada is really cold, even though it's already mid-June," she says as she twists spaghetti on her fork.

"Yes, that's true. But you should be used to it," he grinned cheekily.

"Just because I'm used to it doesn't mean I like it." She took a sip of the overpriced red wine, "I would have preferred to enjoy my summer break in warmer temperatures. As a little change of pace."

"Okay, you're right," he laughed.

She knew from previous dates that he always spent his summer break in warmer regions. He loved water sports, whereas she more than hated them. She wasn't that much of a water rat anymore, but she hadn't told Lando that yet.

"But you can't say you don't have fun here," he said convincingly.

"Are you sure?" she said seriously, trying to suppress a smile.

"Would say yes," he said confidently and grinned.

"Okay, you're right," she said with a laugh.

She shoved another load of spaghetti Bolognese into her mouth. He also took another forkful of his carbonara.

To be honest, she didn't mind being here at all. She had already been to Montreal several times for her own competitions and had to say that the landscape was more than beautiful. The mountains, the frozen lakes, the forests. But that was mostly in the fall or winter. In summer, nothing was frozen over. There was no snow on the ground, but the landscape was still simply beautiful.

They both finished their pasta. Sipped their wine. And talked. Talked about the next few days.

"Do you want dessert?" he asked, taking the last sip from his wine glass.

"I don't know, what are they serving?"

"I was thinking of having a lava cake," he said, his tongue licking his lips briefly, "Otherwise there's ice cream, muffins, well, nothing else I'd eat."

"Well, neither would I," she laughed when Lando mentioned that he was a picky eater. They had quickly agreed that evening that they would definitely not eat fish. They both hated fish and wouldn't even touch it with a fork.

"Really interesting that we say almost the same thing about food," he laughed and his hearty laugh was so infectious, even more infectious than Daniel Ricciardo's.

"Makes it easier to agree on a restaurant," she grinned, "Like today."

They had actually both agreed on a dessert after all.

They sat around the table and talked until late in the evening. About very banal things. Without force. Without pressure. Just the two of them. The two of them in the candlelight. They sipped the wine, poured themselves another glass until the bottle was empty and they decided to leave.

They drove back to the hotel. Or rather, Lando drove them to the hotel in his dark blue McLaren. They had been silent during the drive. They were both in their own thoughts.

She felt closer to him with every date. Her heart beat faster every time she met him. Her skin tingled when they got very close. Her face caught fire when they looked at each other for too long.

She had no idea what this man was doing to her feelings, but it was clearly not normal.

After they had been driving through Montreal for a while, Luise noticed that they had hardly seen any fans, neither in Azerbaijan nor now in Montreal. Where else they were always lurking somewhere and taking pictures of their idols.

𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒: 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 | 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬Where stories live. Discover now