You don't need to explain what the butterfly effect is to Lando Norris because with one single change of events, the love of his life forgot all about him and their 3 year relationship.
3 years;
36 months;
156 weeks;
1095 days;
26,280 hours;
All gon...
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She looks at me in shock and confusion. I know I just dropped a giant bomb on her,
"So... we were engaged?" Aurora asks, breaking the silence.
I nod slowly, "I asked you after the Belgium Grand Prix. It is summer break now, and I took you stargazing. After a little picnic, we walked back to my car, and I went on one knee."
"Wow," she mutters. "I can't believe I was engaged..."
"I don't want you to think I expect something," I say, gently grabbing her hand and rubbing the top. "If I have to get all dorky and silly again until you fall back in love with me, consider it done."
Aurora chuckles softly, but I see the sparkle in her eyes and quickly wipe away the tear that escapes before it rolls down her cheek.
"I don't want you to suffer," she whispers.
"I am not suffering," I lie. "I'll even take you to our apartment in London if I have to, I will take you back to the first Grand Pr—"
"You don't seriously think I'll go to a—"
"Shitshow?" We finish her sentence together, and Aurora chuckles again.
"Of course, I am taking you to a shit show. I'll take you camping again, or I'll teach you how to ski once more."
"I went skiing?"
"Oh baby, you were so bad."
I has slipped my lips before I fully comprehended what I said, her cheeks turn a slight rose color, and she smiles shyly.
"Please, teach me," Aurora says softly; she looks away. But I cup her cheek and gently turn her head back to me.
"I'll teach you as patiently as I was two and a half years ago," I say at the same volume she talks. My eyes go to her pink gloss lips; I count the freckles on her nose before I return to the blue in her eyes.
Aurora looks at me waitingly; she tilts her head to lean more in my hand and slightly lifts her chin to get a better look at me. I am almost a head taller than her, so I know the position of her neck will eventually get sore.
"Is that what you want?" I ask, leaning in a bit, lifting her head an inch to release some of the pressure she must be feeling. "You complained it was cold every day."
She bites her bottom lip, and I feel my self-control weaken. Normally, I'd have smashed my lips against hers and bit that damned bottom lip myself.
"I will probably do so again," she whispers; this time, her eyes travel to my lips before they go back to mine.
