From the Past - Lando Norris

Forty-Five: comfy night in

Lando walks into my apartment shutting the door behind him looking pissed. I put the knife I was using to cut strawberries down as he wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder. He sighs as if he's been craving this all day making my heart melt a little, "What's wrong?" I ask softly petting his curls.

He kisses the side of my neck softly humming showing he doesn't want to talk about it. I pick up a small strawberry piece and hold it in front of his mouth. He stays like that as I continue what I was doing. I never thought I'd like having someone as clingy as Lando but I do. I love it.

He lifts his head when he notices I'm down and I spin around in his arms, "Is it work?" I ask.

"The new photographer is horrible. Oscar and I knew they wouldn't be as good as you but...I never thought it could be this bad," he says as I stare up at him, my fingers still glued in his hair as I rest them on his shoulders.

I try to pretend they aren't bad but it's hard, "I saw the last McLaren post...they aren't...totally bad," I lie.

He gives me a look and I break, "Okay. They suck and even the fans noticed how miserable you two were."

He groans taking another strawberry, "I just wish you could work for Ferrari and McLaren. They never should have had you sign that stupid contract," he tells me.

"You've been amazing about this. I know it can't be easy having your girlfriend working for another Formula One team," I smile running my hands over his chest.

His smile widens, "I can tell how much you love it there. I'd support whatever you wanted to do."

"Even if I quit photography and became a professional clown?" I ask with a small laugh.

"I'd be first in line to see the show," he whispers leaning closer. His lips taste of fruit and mint gum. It's intoxicating.

When he pulls away, I grab my phone from the counter and send him the contact information of a photographer friend I have. "I just sent you a number and Instagram link. Send it to your bosses. They are a much better photographer, and she's looking for a job," I tell him.

He looks over the account and smiles, "You are amazing. I don't deserve you," he whispers as I roll my eyes pushing his shoulder.

"I was thinking we could have a little date night tonight. We have been so busy and I've missed hanging out with you," I tell him turning back to my cutting board. I pour the strawberries into a fruit salad I'm making.

He grabs the little watermelon from the fridge for me, "I was thinking the same thing," he grins. I like these little domestic moments we have every once in a while.

He brushes my hair behind my shoulder since my hands are covered in juice, "Your hair is so soft," he states playing with the ends of it.

"It's that shampoo brand that is promoting Peter on his Instagram. He got a bunch of free samples," I tell him as he kisses the back of my head.

"Remind me to buy you more when you're out," he says resting his head on my shoulder as I continue cutting. He steals a piece whenever I'm not looking, "The fans seem to like us together," he tells me.

I glance back at him, "Really?"

"Yeah, they find it cute we were childhood friends."

I smile holding up a pineapple piece. He bites into it standing up to make the living room comfy for our date night. I walk in ten minutes later with the fruit salad to see him lying on the couch in one of the sweatshirts I stole from him. He opens his arms and I place the bowl down collapsing into them.