chasing - lando norris

twenty six.

[cassie klein]

I think that night with Lando threw me off, because starting the Chinese Grand Prix from P8 is not quite what I was hoping for.

It seemed to have the complete opposite affect on him though, because pole position in China was also not what I was expecting.

I sit in the team garage, water bottle held tightly in my hands, as I try to cool off from that intense qualifying session. I draw my legs up on the chair and take another sip from my straw as I fix my gaze on the TV.

"Pole position, Lando! You've been excellent so far, taking P2 for the sprint race, is this McLaren's weekend?"

I watch the replay of Lando's post-race interview. He can barely contain his wide grin, running a hand through his hair and biting his lip slightly.

"Yeah, thanks, it has been pretty good so far, I'd say. Um, you know, with taking P2 in the sprint and now P1 for qualys it's looking quite decent. But you know, all comes down to tomorrow and the results we can produce from that." Lando replies, averting his focus while answering before drawing it back to the interviewer to listen closely to his next question.

"Your teammate Cassie did quite well in the sprint race as well - a P5 for her - but not looking so great today.. Do you have full confidence you two can score some serious points for McLaren tomorrow?"

The question makes my heart sink.

I feel the colour drain from my face slightly as I watch Lando's grin fade and brows crinkle in response to the question.

I knew it, I knew I'd blow it. I was doing so well, and now under this pressure I get P8. My teammate's in the same car and he's achieving pole! It's not a car issue, it's -

"I think the qualys are not an accurate reflection of Cassie's skill at all, she's got much more under her belt than a P8 has shown. She's an incredibly skilled driver and the track just hasn't really been working with her today, but so far her weekend's been looking competitive. I think tomorrow she'll show us the real talent she's got and maybe even challenge me for a podium, so no, I don't think today's looked bad for her at all. That's a rather silly thing to say, actually."

Lando chuckles at his last comment, not once breaking eye contact with the interviewer. I know what he's doing, and I can't help it when my lips tug into a small smile at the gesture.

"What are you smiling about, Klein?" I hear Lando's voice again, but this time it's not coming from the screen in front of me.

"Oh, nothing," I sing-song, lowering my legs to stand as I set my bottle down on the table next to me. I turn to face Lando, who's leaning against the wall between our two garages, near the entrance.

He raises his brows, before tilting his head to the right to catch whatever is playing on the TV.

He sighs, lowering his brows and closing his eyes.

"Just someone mentioning how much of a skilled driver I am," I teasingly poke at his bicep, watching how his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek and how his eyes remain glued shut.

"How I've got some real talent,"- another poke - "and how I'm looking competitive," - and another - "and how I might be in to challenge Lando Norris for the podium." I think the four pokes in that last comment got to Lando, because his eyes fly open and he clenches his jaw against his smirk.

"Oh really?" He stands upright and uncrosses his arms.

My heart speeds up.

I start to back my way out of the garage, taking slow, cautious steps backwards as Lando looks down at me.