"What if we're better as a team?" Lando asked, his gaze softening.
"We're better as rivals," Rose replied, her heart pulling her in two directions.
In this world of speed ambition friendship and love, every race could change everything-on and off th...
The morning sunlight crept into the room like a shy visitor, painting the space in hues of soft gold. Rose stirred first, her senses awakening to the comforting warmth of Lando's arm draped protectively over her waist. She nestled deeper into his embrace, reluctant to disrupt the fragile serenity of the moment.
Her gaze wandered to his face, tranquil in slumber. Without the weight of the world on his shoulders, his features seemed impossibly gentle, each line and curve kissed by the tender glow of dawn. The tension that so often defined his expression had vanished, leaving him looking boyish, almost angelic.
Rose found herself captivated by the way his lashes—long and dark—swept gracefully against his cheeks. A soft laugh bubbled up in her chest. How unfair is it, she mused, for someone like him to have lashes this perfect? But even her teasing thoughts were wrapped in adoration. She knew that when those lashes lifted, they'd reveal his eyes—green-blue, like light dancing across the surface of a tranquil sea, eyes that never failed to make her heart stutter.
Unable to resist, her fingers reached out, tracing the faint scruff along his jawline, the contrast between its roughness and his peaceful demeanor sparking a warmth in her chest. Lando shifted slightly under her touch, murmuring something incoherent, and she froze, smiling at how his lips quirked upward, as if even in his dreams, he was happy.
Just as she thought she could remain in this moment forever, his lashes fluttered, and his eyes slowly blinked open, hazy and soft with sleep. When their gazes met, his lips curved into the laziest, most heart-melting smile.
"Morning," he mumbled, his voice thick and gravelly, the sound wrapping around her like a favorite blanket.
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Her own smile widened as her hand instinctively brushed back his hair, tousled and endearingly messy. "Morning, sleepyhead," she whispered, her voice carrying the same quiet warmth as the golden light around them.
He blinked a few times, waking up properly, and his eyes—the ones she adored—locked onto hers, shining with an unguarded tenderness that made her breath catch. His thumb brushed lightly over her cheek, the touch so gentle it was as if he feared she might vanish under his fingertips.
"Last night..." His voice was soft, reverent, as if the words themselves carried the magic of what they'd shared. He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to—his eyes told her everything.
Rose felt the blush rise in her cheeks, her face heating as her mind flitted back to their shared intimacy, the way he'd whispered her name as if it were the only word that mattered. Lando noticed instantly, his sleepy smile morphing into a playful grin.
"Are you blushing?" he teased, his voice still husky with sleep. He leaned closer, his nose brushing hers, his grin widening as her blush deepened.
"Don't start," she mumbled, burying her face against his chest in a futile attempt to hide. Her voice was muffled, but he heard the laughter in it, and it drew a chuckle from him—a sound so warm and rich it made her heart flutter.
