Private life | Lando Norris

3 - What The Hell Happened There?

A bit of a waring for the second half of the chapter. Mention of an eating disorder at TW!

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"What do you mean 'No'?"

"Just no, Can I talk to you?" Now desperate to get away from this conversation I sent a look in Ginny's direction, hoping she picks up the message.

 She looks a bit confused but her eyes widen and she processes my facial expression. I barge past Lando, hoping that Ginny will follow me. 

"Oh, Okay. Nice to see you Lando." her voice trails off slightly as I walk further away from her. Once far enough to not hear their  conversation, I pause and watch them from a distance. Lando seems to be telling her something, smirking slightly, and she nods along continuously. I wait a few minutes before I see Ginny thundering in my direction. 

"Finally, now we can - OW!" She interrupts me by slapping a hand down on my arm, stinging the flesh. I put hand up to cover the area she slapped. 

"What did you do his shirt!" Her voice is loud, practically yelling at me. 

"Before you go slapping me, you should ask me!" The music seems to have slowed down and people are slow dancing, wrapped in each other's arms. 

"Well, Lando said you threw it at him!" 

"He WHAT?" 

"He said, and I quote 'She turned around after running into me, saw my face and then threw the drink at my chest.' Did you want to see his chest or something?" 

"No, I accidentally spilled the drink on his shirt, and then tried to apologise but he," I point a finger in his direction, "was a totally dick about it! And no I don't want to ogle at his chest!"

"That's NOT what he said!" Her chest is heaving up and down and I can see steam coming out of her ears. 

"Well you should have asked me, your best friend if that was the case!" 

"You ran off!"

We're now nose to nose, stepping closer to each other as we make our points. 

"Because he's a dick! And an asshole! And plain rude, when he doesn't even know me!" 

"He seems fine to Charles!" 

"Well in case you haven't noticed, i'm not Charles!" I point a finger to my chest. "Charles is drunk in a bathroom because he can take his alcohol!"

"I know he can't take his alcohol! I'm his wife!" 

"I know you're his wife!" I stop for a second and form my next argument. "Anyway this conversation is not about Charles. You should have spoken to me instead of taking an opinion from a man with an ego the size of Jupiter!"

"Fine! Alright." she takes a step back and crosses her arms, putting up a guard. 

"Fine!" 

We stand there staring at one another before she finally cracks, sighing. 

"Okay, I should have asked you." her voice is low as she admits her mistake.

"And I shouldn't yell at you on your wedding day." I mumble. "Where is Charles anyway?" I stand on my tiptoes looking around for him. 

"Pierre's taking care of him. Apparently him and Max were doing some sort of drinking game." 

I snort. "Sounds like Charles." 

"Yea it does." she giggles, "And Max." 

"Yep. Have I asked you were your going for the honeymoon?" I question, trying to remember what she told me.