Ashes of winter moon ✷ lando norris

001. Architecture of distance

[⠀谷. )    ✶            ㅤ ❛ ONE ❜

𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⠀⦂  now now, not ever  ──  ｡｡ ⠀    ✦        ♡ ◞

      𝓢omewhere, the universe was laughing. Because the one person Vivi would rather share a racetrack with than a living space had just walked through the door.

                Just as her manager told her, the first thing they did was the lease signing. Monsieur Graid was kind enough to show the flat once again to Vivi, given all conversations had been done through her manager.

                When Vivienne said spacious she didn't mean a four-bedroom penthouse with Italian marble and ceiling-to-floor windows overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. But then it was probably her fault too. She was too vague about it. "Something big and nice. Enough to fit all my stuff in."

                She was already planning to make one of the rooms her walk-in closet. And then walked in—that one person. Lando Norris. Along with his manager.

                "Ahh, Mr Norris," Monsieur Graid spoke. "I was about to call you." The Monégasque realtor guided Lando to the grand living room. Vivi was looking at the view through the windows. When she heard those words, her spine went rigid. Fingers tightening on the leather handle of her bag. The air suddenly felt colder. The word "no" already in her head before she even turned around.

                "You've got to be fucking kidding me." Vivi rolled her eyes as she turned to face her ex-boyfriend ("no rival, Vivi!" she told herself).

                "Christiana, what the fuck." She turned to her manager, who was equally horrified.

                "There must've been some misunderstanding, right?" His manager interjected, letting out a nervous laugh.

                "What misunderstanding?" The connoisseur tilted his head—thick French accent lacing his confused tone.

                "I mentioned in this listing that this is an apartment for two people," he added.

                "Can't you just rent it out to one person?" Lando asked.

                "Exactly. I’ll pay double." Vivi crossed her arms.

                "I am ready to pay triple," he shot back.

                "Keep that money for the therapy you'll need after you lose the championship." Vivi scoffed.

                "Ahh, Monsieur, Mademoiselle, this is strictly for two people. I do not accept double—" He turned to Vivi. "Or triple." Then to Lando. "Your applications came at the same time, so I assumed you two knew each other, no?" He added.

                "Unfortunate—"

                "No, not at all." Vivi cut him off, not even looking at him. Lando glared at her, crossing his arms.

                "I leave you two to look at the apartment." The poor guy—unaware of the tension—walked out. The ones who were actually aware followed him—their managers.