Flight Attendant - Lando norris fanfic

34 - The Home Stretch

The roar of the engines was a deafening symphony, echoing through the air as I stood by the edge of the McLaren garage. The tension was nearly suffocating, a tangible weight pressing on my chest as I watched Lando's car whip around the track. It was the second-to-last race of the season, and everything was riding on this.

Lando had started strong, navigating the chaos of the opening laps with his usual finesse. My hands were clammy as I gripped the headset, listening to the chatter between him and his race engineer. Even though the sun was blazing overhead, I felt cold, my nerves twisting and tangling in a relentless loop.

"Lando, you're doing great," Will's voice crackled through the radio, calm and steady. "Stay focused. We're still in the fight."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, but it didn't bring any relief. Each overtake, each second shaved off his lap time, felt like a small victory, but the competition was fierce. Lando was battling for every inch, and the sight of his car—papaya orange and glinting under the sunlight—felt like my heart racing alongside him.

As he held P3, the minutes ticked by at a grueling pace. The team around me was a blur of motion and noise, a sea of navy blue uniforms and tense expressions. I bit my lip, tasting the metallic tang of anxiety. My eyes burned, and I realized I hadn't blinked in what felt like forever.

"Dels, you okay?" A familiar voice pulled me from my trance, and I turned to see Max, Lando's best friend, standing nearby. His expression was concerned, but he tried for a small smile, probably trying to lighten the moment.

I managed a weak nod. "Just... trying to remember how to breathe."

Max chuckled, but it was strained. "Yeah, I get that. He's doing well, though. He's got this."

I wanted to believe him, to cling to his confidence, but the stakes felt insurmountable. There was no room for error. Every split-second decision mattered, and I hated how helpless I felt, just standing here, watching.

When the checkered flag finally waved, Lando crossed the line in P3. Relief and frustration warred within me. A podium finish was incredible, but it meant the championship would come down to the very last race. The tension was far from over.

I sagged against the wall, my legs feeling wobbly. The McLaren garage erupted into cheers and applause, and I forced myself to smile, to join in the celebration. Lando had done everything he could, and he'd fought brilliantly. But I knew how much this meant to him. How much pressure he was under.

Later, after the race, I found myself scrolling through my phone in the hospitality suite, the walls buzzing with post-race interviews and debriefs. A new notification popped up, and my stomach dropped as I clicked on it. A major news outlet had published a feature on Lando and me, detailing our love story with glossy photos and a narrative that felt like a whirlwind.

The article painted me as both a figure of strength and controversy, highlighting my statement about Aaron Miller and the backlash that followed. Some of the comments were supportive, calling me brave and admirable. But others... others were harsh, questioning my intentions and criticizing Lando for staying with me, as if our relationship was some PR stunt gone wrong.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Doubts started to creep in, whispering insidious thoughts. Had we made a mistake going public? Was I jeopardizing Lando's career? Our love had been a sanctuary, something beautiful and pure, but now it felt exposed, scrutinized under the harshest lights.

"Hey." Lando's voice was soft, but it startled me. I hadn't even heard him come in. He was still in his race suit, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, but his eyes searched mine, immediately sensing something was wrong.

I tried to smile, but it wavered. "Congratulations," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "P3 is incredible."

He came closer, his hand finding mine. "Thanks," he murmured, but he didn't sound convinced. "What's going on? You seem... off."

I hesitated, my throat tightening. "It's stupid," I whispered, looking down at our joined hands. "The article. The backlash. I just... I wonder if going public was a mistake. I hate that you're getting dragged into this mess because of me."

Lando's fingers tightened around mine, and he pulled me into a hug, his arms warm and strong. I buried my face in his chest, the familiar scent of him—sweat, and a hint of something clean and comforting—making me feel grounded.

"It's not a mistake," he said firmly, his voice a low rumble that I felt against my cheek. "Being with you... loving you... none of that is a mistake, baby. I'd do it all over again, a thousand times."

I pulled back just enough to see his face, my eyes welling up. "But the pressure, the comments... I don't want you to regret this. To regret us."

His expression softened, a small, crooked smile curving his lips. "I don't regret a damn thing," he said. "And I never will. You're worth every bit of this, okay? We're in this together."

The vulnerability in his voice, the unwavering sincerity, made my chest ache. I nodded, tears spilling down my cheeks. He reached up, brushing them away with his thumbs, and leaned forward to kiss me, slow and tender, as if sealing a promise between us.

The next morning, I wasn't prepared for what happened as I walked through the paddock. A cluster of McLaren team members were gathered, and when they saw me, they started clapping. At first, I froze, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But then I realized they weren't mocking me. They were cheering, smiles breaking out across their faces.

"Cordelia!" one of the engineers called, grinning. "You're a legend, you know that?"

Another team member gave me a thumbs-up. "We've got your back," she said. "Always."

My eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were happy ones. The support, the acceptance... it was overwhelming. I felt Lando come up behind me, his hand sliding around my waist as he watched the scene unfold, his smile proud and full of love.

"You see?" he whispered in my ear. "You're part of this family now. And we don't let our own fight alone."

I turned to him, my heart full. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I belonged. Like we belonged. Together.