Love 4 Apex | Lando Norris x OC x Franco Colapinto

🏎 31 - Echoes of Departure

The world outside seemed distant as Lando sank into the rhythm of the days with Magui. He'd put his phone on silent, ignoring the hum of messages and notifications that would usually pull him in a dozen directions. For these two weeks, he wasn't the Lando that everyone else knew—the racer, the rising star, the guy always in the spotlight. Here, with Magui, he was just himself, learning the gentle quiet of her presence, the way she laughed at his bad jokes, and the way her eyes softened when she looked at him.

The days in Santarém unfolded gently, yet Lando noticed subtle shifts in Magui. Since starting her medication, moments of tiredness and mood swings crept in, casting a shadow she carried silently. Some mornings, he'd find her staring into her coffee, lost in unspoken thoughts. Her laughter, once bright, would sometimes fade, her mood shifting unexpectedly.

Every now and then, her phone would buzz or ring, pulling her briefly out of their secluded world. Whenever Lando asked, she'd simply smile and say, "It's just work." The answer seemed routine, but each time, he could sense a flicker of something deeper in her eyes—a hint of distraction, something she kept tucked away.

One evening, they celebrated his birthday in the quiet, intimate way that had come to define their time together. There were no big gatherings, no grand gestures—just the two of them, a small cake, and a few candles casting a warm glow in the soft light. Lando hadn't felt the need for anything else; he wasn't in the mood for a crowd. Her presence, her quiet smile as she softly sang "Happy Birthday," filled him with a warmth he hadn't expected.

Another afternoon, as they walked through Santarém's tree-lined paths, she stopped, looking frustrated.  "I'm sorry, Lando. I feel so up and down. One moment, I'm fine, then...." She trailed off, unable to explain.

"You don't have to apologize, Magui," he murmured, taking her hand. "This is the medication. It's changing things inside you—physically and emotionally. You're bound to feel up and down."

She looked away, squeezing his hand. "I just didn't expect it to hit me so hard. It's like I'm not myself."

He reached out, his hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across her skin. "The medication might be messing with your emotions, but everything you're feeling is valid," he murmured. "Let it go... With me, you don't have to hold anything back."

A faint smile softened her features as she took his hand on her cheek, her eyes meeting his with a quiet gratitude, unspoken but deeply felt.

As the sun dipped low, painting the town in soft colors, Lando held her close, grounded by the quiet bond between them. They both felt the weight of time, knowing he'd soon have to leave for Las Vegas.

One evening, she finally broke the silence. "So... Vegas is coming up soon?"

"Yeah, I have to take a flight in a few days," he replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "But I'm here now. These days are ours."

Her smile was soft, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just... trying to hold onto every second."

And together, they walked on, savoring each quiet moment, aware that soon, their time would slip away.

As they stood at the edge of the tarmac, the private jet behind him loomed like a quiet reminder of his impending departure. The engines hummed softly, a low, steady sound that seemed to underline the ticking seconds slipping away from them. Lando's fingers tightened around Magui's, unwilling to let go, even though he knew he'd have to.

Magui looked down, her fingers trembling slightly as they gripped his. She hadn't said much that morning, but now, as the moment pressed down on them, she looked up, and Lando saw her eyes, glistening with tears she could no longer hold back.

Her voice broke as she whispered, "I don't want you to leave."

Those words hung in the air, fragile and vulnerable, echoing everything they hadn't said aloud. Her hand clung to his as if holding on could change the inevitable, and Lando felt his own heart twist, torn between the life he had to return to and the life he wanted to stay with. He had wished she could come with him, to have her by his side, but the reality of her treatment kept her tied to Portugal. She couldn't risk traveling so soon, not with the doctor's close supervision still needed.

He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her as she buried her face against his chest, her shoulders trembling as the tears spilled over. "I... I don't want you to go," she choked, the words tumbling out as though she'd been holding them back until this moment. "I don't know how to do this without you here."

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words settle over him. "I don't want to leave either," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "If I could stay..."

She looked up, a tear slipping down her cheek, and managed a shaky smile, a bittersweet understanding between them. "I'm sorry to ask you that," she whispered. "I know you can't. You can't stay."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. "I'll come back. I promise," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a quiet urgency, as if making that promise could somehow lessen the ache in both their hearts.

"Wait for me," he added, his words a tender plea, lingering between them as they held each other close, savoring every last second before he had to let go.

As the plane ascended, Lando sank back into his seat, his thoughts still tethered to the tarmac with Magui. The past two weeks replayed in his mind—quiet mornings, her laughter, the way she leaned into him, revealing a closeness he hadn't anticipated. Leaving her had stirred an ache he couldn't ignore.

Determined to shift his focus, he opened his laptop and let the drone of the engines fade into the background as he pulled up his race data. His fingers moved over the telemetry, dissecting each turn, each lap, searching for the smallest margins he could use to his advantage. The familiarity of numbers, graphs, and split times grounded him, gradually nudging thoughts of Magui aside.

But as he moved on to his rivals' data, he lingered on Rose's. Her lap times, her bold overtakes, her precision—all of it reminded him of the countless hours they'd spent pushing each other to be better. She wasn't just another competitor; she was Rose, someone who meant more to him than most could understand.

When thoughts of Rose drifted into his mind, Lando instinctively opened Instagram—a habit he'd set aside for the past two weeks. His feed refreshed, and the first wave of notifications was filled with birthday messages. Posts from his family, his best friend Max, his team, and even a simple "Happy Birthday Lan" message from Rose. He scrolled through them, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he read each one. He hadn't seen these messages on his actual birthday, having taken a break from his phone to stay in the moment with Magui. Now, seeing them all at once felt like a small reflection of the people who cared about him, the ones who'd celebrated his day even from afar.

But as he continued scrolling, the birthday wishes faded into a new stream of posts—image after image of Rose and Franco filling the screen. Each shot captured that moment in the pitlane: Franco's arms around her, her face glowing with a joy Lando hadn't seen in years, their kiss sealing them as F1's hottest new couple.

Headlines and captions swirled beneath each photo, proclaiming them the new "it" couple, speculating about their relationship, admiring their chemistry. Lando's chest tightened. He didn't need any reminder of the moment; the image of that kiss was already etched in his mind, lingering in a way he wished it wouldn't.

He shut the app, the ache sharper than he'd expected. Taking a deep breath, he tried to push the images from his mind, forcing his attention back to his race prep. The race, the race, he repeated to himself, but the weight of those images lingered, making it difficult to focus, pulling him back into thoughts of Rose when he needed to move forward.

What the bloody hell is wrong with me? he thought, a pang of guilt and frustration twisting in his chest. I'm with Magui—stop feeling this way about Rose. But no matter how hard he tried to shake it off, the guilt only deepened, a reminder of feelings he couldn't quite bury, no matter how much he wanted to.