"she does not remind me of anything, everything reminds me of her."
standalone book.
lando norris x femoc!
social media x real life
2023 racing season
started - April 20th
finished - July 27th
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♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧
IT WAS SAFE TO ASSUME THAT JULIET HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN SHE WALKED THROUGH THE DOORS OF HER HOME. But she certainly wasn't expecting the smell of wicker candles flooding through the house, nor the dulcet sounds of Frank Sinatra serenading her as she walked through the hallway leading her to the dining room.
It made her tough exterior falter and her mood changed from annoyance to shock. How was she supposed to remain annoyed at the man who had made questionable decisions when his way of making it up to her was organizing a romantic dinner in her own home?
The answer was she couldn't.
As much as she wanted to stay mad, to shout at him and ruin the mood he had set in the home because she had been upset - rightfully so - at the idea that she had been wronged by his lies. She physically couldn't.
As she rounded the corner operating the hallway from her dining room, her body stopped in its place, her feet frozen to the floor.
The space where her dining room table had usually resided, stood a fully decorated table set for two. Candle sticks were light and placed decoratively while rose petals were scattered all over the floor and the table.
The room was engulfed in the most delicious smell she had ever allowed her nostrils to smell, combined with the scent of her candles wafting through the air. Juliet truly believed she had stepped through the door to heaven instead of her front door.
She refused to believe that the man who ate seventeen dim sums for dinner, was the same man who had singlehandedly organized the date of her dream, complete with home-cooked meals. How was she truly supposed to remain mad at him?
"Ah, Julie! Welcome home." Lando spoke, entering the dining room with an apron loosely tied around his body to protect his clothes from the mess he had no doubt made in her kitchen. His hands were occupied by a pot of food that he gently placed on the table.
His eyes stared back at her as she refused to move from her frozen spot. If she looked closely into his eyes, past the smile that cleverly shielded his fears, she could see the nerves that were deep-rooted into his mind and she began to feel guilty.
