AFTER YEARS, AND YEARS, SINCE THEY MET
lando was still, undeniably, and utterly in love with arabella. it was a love that felt like an endless song playing on repeat in his chest, one that never grew tired, never faded. the way her eyes sparkled like distant stars when she was happy, how her smile could fill the room with light even on the darkest of days—these were the things he couldn't let go of, the things that haunted him with a beauty that he could never quite shake off.
he'd had a few girlfriends, a handful of flings, but they were like echoes of a song that never truly resonated. nothing—nothing—could ever compare to the love he had for his juno. arabella was the melody he'd been listening to all his life, and no other sound could come close to matching the rhythm of her presence.
he still kept every crayon he'd ever broken in half for her—those little pieces of color scattered in the corners of his heart. they were tucked away inside a small, sage-green box with a delicate gold ribbon, the very one she'd given him all those years ago. to the casual eye, it was just a simple thing, an empty box perhaps. but to lando, it was a universe in itself.
that box was his sanctuary, his safe place, the one piece of his life that belonged to no one but her. inside it, he kept the letters he'd written to her but never sent—letters filled with the kind of words he couldn't speak aloud, words that trembled on his tongue but never quite made it to the surface. each letter was a prayer, a confession, a piece of his soul poured onto paper. when he saw her—her eyes wide and bright, her laughter ringing like a melody he couldn't forget—he wanted to say so much more, but the words always tangled in his chest, like vines growing too fast for him to untangle.
lando had never been much for words, never been the type to weave poetry or craft romantic speeches. he was better with numbers, with equations, with the cold certainty of science. but for her, he had become something else. for her, he wrote letters, letters filled with the raw, unrefined pieces of his heart. it was his way of breathing life into a love that could never quite be said out loud.
even though she only saw him as her best friend (a thought that cut deeper than anything), he always told himself it was okay. after all, he loved her enough for the both of them. and someday, somehow, she would see it. maybe tomorrow. maybe in a year or two. but for now, he would hold onto that fragile hope, clinging to the idea that maybe—just maybe—there would come a moment when her heart would catch up to his.
he didn't mind waiting. not really. what was time when it came to love? he'd wait, as long as it took. because if, in this universe, she couldn't see it, then he'd search for her in another. across endless worlds, through infinite possibilities, he would keep searching until he found the version of reality where her heart beat with the same rhythm as his. he would keep looking, until he found the world where her eyes softened when they met his, where her smile warmed him like the sun, where her love mirrored the desperate, unshakable devotion he felt for her.
because in his heart, he knew—he knew—they were meant to be. even if fate hadn't quite figured it out yet.
isa's note:
two chapters in one day???
i was bored and this is likely the worst thing i've ever written so yeah
bisous bisous to all,
isabui!!
YOU ARE READING
WHEN WE WERE YOUNG, lando norris
Fanfiction"when we were young, love just made sense, even when nothing else did."
