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come down soon

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: While Lando pushes through post-race media obligations in Spain and shifts his schedule to surprise her, an exhausted Amelie returns from a grueling filming day only to be caught completely off guard by his sudden presence in her apartment.

Wordcount: 12.7 k

Warnings: none

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June 14th, 2026 - Barcelona, Spain

Lando rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the lingering tension from fifty-eight grueling laps around the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya. His race suit felt heavy against his damp skin, a reminder of the brutal afternoon he had just spent fighting for every single millisecond on the track. Finishing third was an incredible relief, securing only his second podium of the season for McLaren, but the exhaustive effort had left him completely drained.

George let out a breath beside him and bumped his shoulder lightly against Lando's as they walked down the corridor.

—Second podium this year,— George said. —Not bad considering you've spent half the season complaining about your car.—

—Funny coming from you.— Lando snorted.

George laughed under his breath, the sound echoing slightly against the narrow corridor walls as the two drivers continued toward the exit of the media room. The adrenaline from the race was finally beginning to wear off, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion and sore muscles. Every step reminded Lando just how hard he had pushed throughout the afternoon.

—At least my complaints are justified,— George replied, adjusting the collar of his race suit. —You complain even when you're winning.—

—That's called consistency.— Lando grinned.

—That's called being annoying.—

The moment the door opened, the familiar chaos of a Formula One paddock immediately greeted them. Team personnel hurried through the hallway carrying laptops and equipment. Journalists lingered nearby hoping to catch quick comments. Photographers stood strategically positioned like hunters waiting for the perfect shot.

Lando's grin widened slightly as the paddock noise swallowed them whole.

The second he stepped out into the hallway, a familiar group was already waiting exactly where they always seemed to appear.

Mia stood beside the door, one hand holding his phone and the other clutching a thick stack of schedules and interview notes. Her expression already carried the exhausted look of someone who had spent the last two hours reorganizing a dozen media appearances because Formula One schedules never stayed where they were supposed to.

A few feet away, Ash immediately lifted his camera the second he spotted Lando.

The rapid clicking started almost instantly.

Lando barely had time to blink before Ash was walking backward, snapping photos as he exited the media room.

Behind them stood his new bodyguard, broad-shouldered and observant, maintaining enough distance not to intrude while still keeping an eye on every movement around them.

The sight still felt slightly strange.

For years, the familiar face following him around races had become almost part of the furniture. But his usual security guard was currently halfway across the world in Vancouver accompanying Amelie during filming commitments, leaving Lando with someone new for the European stretch of the season.

Mia immediately extended the phone toward him.

—Finally.—

—Miss me?— Lando asked dramatically.

—Not even a little bit.—

Mia shoved the phone into his chest hard enough to make him stumble half a step.

—Good. Because your schedule today has been a nightmare.—

Lando laughed under his breath, wrapping his fingers around the device while balancing his water bottle against his hip. The cool metal felt wonderful against his overheated palms. His body was still recovering from nearly two hours of wrestling the McLaren around Barcelona's unforgiving corners, and every muscle in his shoulders protested the movement.

—What've we got?— he asked.

Mia fell into step beside him without missing a beat.

—Three broadcasters, two written press interviews, one sponsor appearance, then team debrief later tonight. Most questions will be about the podium, Kimi's retirement, and whether McLaren has finally turned the season around.—

Lando twisted open his water bottle.

The cold water hit the back of his throat immediately, washing away some of the dryness left behind from the post-race interviews. Around them, the paddock buzzed with the familiar rhythm of a Grand Prix Sunday winding down. Team members rushed between motorhomes, journalists searched for final quotes, and camera crews scrambled to position themselves before the next round of interviews began.

Mia continued walking beside him, flipping through her notes while somehow managing to avoid colliding with the dozens of people crossing their path.

—If Sky asks about Lewis, be nice.—

—I'm always nice.—

Mia gave him a look that suggested she had personally witnessed enough evidence to prove otherwise.

—Sure you are.—

Lando grinned around another sip of water, entirely unapologetic.

The corridor widened as they approached the media pen, the noise growing louder with every step. Reporters clustered behind temporary barriers, microphones already prepared. Producers adjusted headsets while camera operators maneuvered around each other trying to secure the best angles before drivers arrived.

—If they ask about the championship, keep it realistic,— Mia continued while scanning her notes.

—Mhm.—

—And don't start making jokes halfway through serious questions.—

—Mhm.—

—And stop saying "mhm" because you're not listening.—

—Mhm.—

Lando’s thumb pulled down the notification tray on the screen, his attention completely fracturing when the device began to vibrate violently in his palm, accompanied by a very familiar tone. The screen lit up beautifully, displaying Amelie’s name right across the center alongside the incoming FaceTime call notification that he had been secretly hoping for all afternoon.

Mia stopped dead in her tracks, noticing his sudden lack of movement and the way his entire posture softened as he stared down at the brightly illuminated glass screen. She sighed heavily, tapping her thick folder of notes against her thigh while crossing her arms over her chest impatiently.

—What is wrong with you now?— she asked, her tone loaded with suspicion.

Lando didn't say a single word in his defense, instead offering her an entirely innocent, boyish grin that usually meant he was about to do something that would complicate her carefully planned media schedule. He twisted the screen around, proudly showing her the incoming video call from Vancouver while the phone continued to buzz insistently between his fingers.

Mia rolled her eyes so hard it looked physically painful, letting out a dramatic groan that perfectly summarized her entire afternoon of dealing with distracted racing drivers. She glanced over her shoulder at the bustling media pen, realizing they still had a two-minute window before the television broadcasters were fully prepared to receive them.

—Fine,— she muttered, pointing an accusing finger directly at his face. —But you need to be quick about it, Lando. I am serious, we have exactly two minutes before Sky Sports expects you in that first square, so do not make me come drag you out of a corner by your race suit.—

Lando nodded enthusiastically, already backing away toward a relatively quiet corner of the concrete paddock wall where the roaring crowd noise from the main grandstands was somewhat muffled. Mia gave him one last warning glance before spinning on her heel, walking over toward Oscar’s press officer to pass the time chatting about their team strategy and the upcoming debrief scheduled for later tonight.

The second she was out of earshot, Lando eagerly swiped across the screen to answer the call, a massive, genuine smile breaking across his tired face as the video connected. The image flickered once before stabilizing, revealing Amelie’s face on the screen, her hair looking slightly messy and the bright morning sunlight of Vancouver illuminating the background behind her.

Amelie's face immediately filled the entire screen, bright and alive in a way that made something inside Lando loosen instantly.

The exhaustion was still there. The soreness was still there. His shoulders still ached, and his race suit still felt glued to his skin. But seeing her somehow made the entire afternoon feel lighter.

Amelie smiled so widely that the corners of her eyes crinkled.

—There he is,— she said softly. —My podium boy.—

Lando couldn't stop smiling back.

—Your podium boy?—

—Mhm.—

—I quite like the sound of that.—

She laughed, the familiar sound carrying through the speakers despite the thousands of kilometers separating them. It was light, effortless, and somehow managed to cut through every ounce of exhaustion sitting in his bones.

—I watched everything,— she said. —You drove so well, Lan.—

Lando leaned his shoulder against the concrete wall, finally allowing himself to relax for a second.

He let his head rest against the wall for another second, closing his eyes briefly as her words settled somewhere deep inside him.

—Felt better today,— he admitted quietly. —The balance finally made sense. Still not perfect, but... better. We actually had pace for once.—

Amelie smiled proudly, shifting slightly where she was sitting. He could make out the edge of her trailer behind her and a paper coffee cup balanced on the table.

—I could tell,— she said. —You looked comfortable. Well... as comfortable as anyone can look driving at three hundred kilometers an hour.—

A warm smile spread across Amelie's face, pride shining so openly across her features that Lando almost forgot they were separated by an entire ocean.

—I know it wasn't a win,— she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, —but you looked happy in the car again. I haven't seen that in a while.—

Lando glanced down for a second before nodding.

—I was.— His voice softened. —It finally felt like I could actually fight instead of just surviving every lap. We've still got work to do, but... today felt like a step forward.—

She hummed in agreement, her smile never wavering.

There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment, the kind neither of them ever felt pressured to fill. Lando simply looked at her, taking in every little detail he had missed over the past week. The sunlight spilling through the trailer window painted her face in soft gold, and he realized just how much he hated not having her beside him after races.

Amelie tilted her head slightly before an amused smile crossed her lips.

—I think...— she started carefully, pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing. —I might be bad luck for you.—

Lando frowned immediately.

—Excuse me?—

She shrugged one shoulder innocently.

—Think about it.— She held up a finger as though presenting evidence in court. —This is the first race this entire season that I haven't been there...— He watched her curiously. —...and suddenly you get another podium.—

Lando stared at her through the screen for exactly half a second before letting out the most offended gasp he could possibly manage.

—Absolutely not.—

Amelie's grin only grew wider.

—The evidence is there.— She lifted another finger dramatically, as though presenting an undeniable argument to a jury. —Race one without me in attendance... podium.—

—Objection.—

—Overruled.—

—You can't overrule me in your own made-up court.—

—I absolutely can.—

Lando pointed an accusing finger toward the screen, shaking his head with exaggerated disappointment.

—That is the worst theory I've ever heard in my life.—

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh.

—You don't know that.—

—I do know that.— He spoke with complete certainty. —Because if that's the price for podiums, I don't want them.—

Amelie's smile softened.

—Lan...—

—No, seriously.—

He pushed himself away from the wall, suddenly looking almost offended by the idea itself.

—I don't care if I finish twentieth every weekend.— He shook his head dramatically. —Please don't leave my side ever again.—

She burst into laughter, the bright sound echoing through his phone speakers so loudly that a couple of mechanics walking past turned their heads toward him. She covered her mouth with one hand, shaking her head as she tried—and completely failed—to stop laughing at the expression on his face. Lando looked genuinely horrified by her suggestion, his eyebrows knitted together as though she had just proposed the most ridiculous strategy ever conceived in Formula One history.

—You're unbelievable,— she giggled.

—I am serious,— Lando insisted, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. —Forget the podium. Forget the trophies. Forget all of it. You are absolutely banned from testing this stupid theory ever again.—

She smiled so warmly that it softened every feature on her face.

—I knew you'd say something dramatic.—

—It's not dramatic if it's true.—

—Lan...—

—No, listen.— He pointed toward the camera with complete sincerity despite the ridiculousness of the conversation. —If someone told me I could either have you beside me every race weekend or get ten podiums without you, I'd choose you before they even finished the sentence.—

Her expression melted immediately.

The teasing disappeared, replaced by that familiar tenderness that always seemed reserved only for him. Even through a tiny phone screen separated by nearly eight thousand kilometers, she looked at him as though he was the only person in the world worth paying attention to.

—I promise I'm coming back soon,— she said softly. —You won't get rid of me that easily.—

—Good.—

He nodded once, completely satisfied with that answer.

—That's exactly what I wanted to hear.—

For another brief moment, they simply looked at each other, neither feeling the need to rush the conversation. Around Lando, the paddock continued moving at full speed. Team members hurried past carrying equipment cases, journalists shouted questions across the media pen, and television crews adjusted lights and microphones. Yet somehow all of it faded into the background as he watched Amelie absentmindedly tracing the rim of her coffee cup with her thumb.

She noticed him smiling.

—What?—

—I miss you.—

Her smile turned impossibly softer.

—I miss you too.—

He let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

—As soon as Mia lets me escape this circus, I'm going straight to the airport.—

She smiled, her eyes crinkling gently despite the obvious exhaustion lingering behind them after another long day on set.

—I know,— she whispered. —And I'll be waiting for you.—

Lando's grin returned immediately, effortless and boyish.

—I booked the latest flight already. As soon as they let me out of here, I'm gone.—

She nodded, the smile never leaving her face.

—I expect a very dramatic airport selfie the second you land.—

—You'll get at least five,— Lando replied without hesitation. —One from the plane, one after we land, one while I'm walking through the terminal, one when I inevitably complain about customs, and one the second I see you.—

Amelie laughed, already knowing every word of that would become reality.

—I wouldn't expect anything less.—

Lando's expression softened into something quieter, something only she ever seemed to get from him.

For a brief second neither of them spoke. They simply looked at one another, the silence somehow carrying more than words ever could.

Then movement over Amelie's shoulder caught his attention.

Well... not behind her.

Behind him.

Lando frowned slightly before glancing away from the screen.

Several meters down the paddock, Mia had finally spotted him again.

She was standing beside the first television setup, one hand pressed against her forehead while the other repeatedly tapped the face of her watch with increasingly dramatic movements. When he looked directly at her, she immediately started making exaggerated cutting motions across her throat before pointing aggressively toward the waiting journalists.

Time's up.

Lando sighed so dramatically that Amelie immediately knew exactly what had happened.

She smiled knowingly.

—I take it that's Mia?—

He turned the phone just enough for her to catch a glimpse of Mia waving both arms in the air like an airport marshal directing airplanes.

Amelie burst into laughter.

—She looks one second away from physically dragging you over there.—

—She probably is.—

Almost as if she had heard him, Mia folded her arms and simply stared.

She could barely contain another smile.

—I should probably let you go before she files a complaint with McLaren Human Resources.—

Lando glanced back over his shoulder once more. Mia had now upgraded from tapping her watch to pointing repeatedly at the first interviewer, then back at him, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like, Move. Now.

—I hate responsible people.— He sighed like the weight of the entire world had suddenly landed on his shoulders.

Amelie tilted her head, her smile lingering even as she glanced toward the edge of her screen, where someone from the production crew was clearly trying to get her attention as well. She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head with amused resignation.

—Responsible people are the reason either of us still has a career,— she teased gently.

Lando groaned, letting his head fall back against the concrete wall.

—I know. Doesn't mean I have to like them.—

Amelie smiled to herself, the sound warm enough to settle something restless inside his chest.

—Good thing you don't have to date one, then.—

Lando let out a laugh through his nose, the kind that only ever escaped around her. He adjusted his grip on the phone, unconsciously angling the camera so he could keep seeing her face as long as possible.

—I do date one.—

She blinked innocently.

—Really? I feel sorry for you, then.—

Lando smiled so widely his cheeks almost hurt, the tiredness in his body momentarily forgotten.

—I manage somehow.—

She laughed quietly, lowering her gaze for a second before looking back at him through the screen. Even after months together, there were moments when he could still make her blush without even trying. The tiny smile pulling at her lips made his chest tighten with an affection so overwhelming it almost scared him. It was ridiculous how someone thousands of kilometers away could still feel like home.

Another voice called Amelie's name from somewhere outside the trailer.

She glanced over her shoulder apologetically before looking back at him.

—I really do have to go.—

Lando's smile lingered, softer now, touched by the familiar ache that came with every goodbye they had ever shared across continents.

—I know.— His voice dropped into something quieter, something that belonged only to her. —Go be a movie star.—

Amelie rolled her eyes affectionately.

—Go answer your million questions.—

—I don't want to.—

—I know you don't.—

He smiled to himself, lowering his gaze for a brief moment before looking back at her. Every goodbye somehow became harder instead of easier. They had spent enough time apart over the years that they should have been used to it by now, but the opposite had happened. The longer they were together, the more impossible it became to willingly hang up the phone, even knowing he'd be on a plane to Vancouver in just a few hours. Every second he could steal with her felt worth fighting for.

—I love you,— he said simply.

The words settled between them with the same quiet certainty they always carried. There was nothing rehearsed about them, nothing dramatic or performative. They were easy now, as natural as breathing, spoken with the confidence of someone who no longer questioned whether the other person already knew. Even through a tiny phone screen, separated by thousands of kilometers, he watched every inch of her face soften.

Amelie's smile became almost impossibly gentle, her eyes shining with the kind of affection that always made his chest ache in the best possible way. She rested her chin lightly against her hand for a second, taking him in as though she wanted to memorize every exhausted feature after another long race weekend.

—I love you too, Lan.—

Neither of them rushed to end the call.

Instead, they lingered there for another quiet moment, smiling at one another in complete silence while the worlds around them refused to stop moving. Crew members continued walking past Amelie's trailer in Vancouver, occasionally appearing behind her before disappearing again. On Lando's side, photographers wandered through the paddock, television cameras rolled, and journalists prepared their microphones only a short distance away. It all continued without them, yet neither seemed willing to be the first one to press the red button.

Lando smiled to himself, almost sheepishly, before letting out a quiet breath.

—I'll see you tomorrow.—

—You'll see me tomorrow.— Amelie nodded immediately.

—Promise?—

She tilted her head, pretending to think about it.

—I mean... if customs lets you into Canada.—

Lando groaned dramatically, earning another laugh from her.

—You're unbelievable.—

—I know.—

His smile never disappeared. If anything, it only grew softer as he looked at her one last time, trying to ignore the familiar disappointment that always accompanied their goodbyes. It wasn't nearly as painful as it used to be, mostly because this time he already had a boarding pass waiting for him. In only a few hours he'd be crossing another ocean, and by the time either of them woke up tomorrow morning, they wouldn't need a phone screen anymore.

—Text me when they finish with you,— she reminded him gently.

—I will.—

—And don't forget to eat something.—

—I won't.—

—Something that isn't just coffee.—

Lando placed a hand dramatically over his heart, looking personally attacked.

—I have no idea why everyone keeps accusing me of surviving on caffeine.—

Amelie raised one eyebrow knowingly.

—Because you do.—

He couldn't even argue.

Instead, he laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck before giving her one final smile.

—Bye, pretty girl.—

Her cheeks colored ever so slightly despite hearing every nickname he had ever invented for her.

—Bye, handsome.—

Neither of them hung up.

For another full second they simply smiled like complete idiots, waiting for the other to end the call first.

Amelie finally laughed, shaking her head.

—Hang up.—

—You hang up.—

—Lan...—

—I think you'll find I was here first.—

She rolled her eyes with a fondness reserved entirely for him.

—You're twenty-six.—

—And?—

—Act like it.—

—I am.—

She laughed once more before shaking her head in surrender.

—Goodbye, you menace.—

—Goodbye.—

Another beat passed.

Then, with one last lingering smile and a tiny wave toward the camera, Amelie finally pressed the button.

The screen faded to black.

For a moment, Lando simply stared at his own reflection in the dark display. The smile remained on his face long after the call had ended, impossible to hide no matter how exhausted he felt. Every race weekend was loud, chaotic and relentlessly demanding, but those few stolen minutes with her somehow managed to quiet all of it. It was ridiculous how someone on another continent could completely reset his day with nothing more than a smile and three simple words.

A sharp clap echoed through the corridor.

—Norris!—

Lando looked up.

Mia stood barely fifteen meters away, one hand planted firmly on her hip while the other held her schedule folder against her chest. She didn't look angry anymore.

She looked defeated.

She caught one glimpse of the stupid grin still plastered across his face and sighed toward the ceiling.

—I don't even want to know.—

Lando slipped his phone into the pocket of his race suit, the smile refusing to disappear.

—Probably for the best.—

She pointed toward the media pen without another word.

—Walk.—

For the first time all afternoon, Lando didn't complain.

He didn't drag his feet, bargain for another minute, or attempt to distract her with some sarcastic comment. He simply adjusted the zipper of his race suit, rolled his shoulders one final time, and started walking toward the waiting cameras with an ease Mia hadn't expected. Whatever homesickness had been weighing on him only minutes earlier had vanished completely, replaced by a calmness she had watched Amelie bring out in him more times than she could count.

The first interviewer spotted him immediately and stepped forward, microphone already raised.

—Lando, congratulations on another podium. Can we get a few words about today's performance?—

Normally, Lando would've greeted them with a joke, teased the camera operator, or found some way to delay the interview by another thirty seconds. Today, he barely broke stride.

—Yeah, good race. Happy with the result. The team did a great job.—

The reporter nodded, slightly surprised by the unusually concise answer.

—The car looked much stronger throughout the weekend. Do you think McLaren has finally found the direction you've been searching for?—

—I hope so. Still work to do, but today was encouraging.—

—Does this podium change your expectations for the rest of the championship?—

—Not really. One race at a time.—

—Any thoughts on...—

—Thanks, appreciate it.—

Before the interviewer had even finished asking the next question, Lando offered a polite smile, shook his hand quickly, and moved straight toward the following media position without missing a beat. It wasn't rude, only efficient—far more efficient than anyone covering Formula One was accustomed to seeing from him.

Mia remained where she was, watching the interaction unfold with narrowed eyes.

She had spent years scheduling his media appearances, long enough to recognize every version of Lando Norris that existed after a Grand Prix. There was the frustrated version who answered everything with sarcasm after difficult races. The playful version who turned every interview into a comedy sketch after victories. The exhausted version who looked ready to fall asleep standing up.

This one was different.

He wasn't impatient because he was annoyed.

He wasn't quiet because he was upset.

He was simply in a hurry.

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the pocket where he had tucked away his phone only moments earlier, and the corners of her mouth twitched despite herself.

Of course.

He wasn't trying to escape the media.

He was trying to get through them.

Every short answer, every polite smile, every quick handshake brought him one interview closer to the airport, one flight closer to Vancouver, and one step closer to the girl who had completely ruined his ability to pretend he enjoyed spending time anywhere else.

Mia exhaled through her nose, shaking her head as she flipped to the next page of her schedule.

Hopeless.

Absolutely, completely hopeless, and judging by the unmistakably lovestruck smile Lando still hadn't managed to wipe off his face, she suspected there wasn't a single person in the paddock capable of saving him anymore.

--------------

liked by papayagirl, lanmeliehub, and others

norris.content: Lando spotted catching up with family and friends in the McLaren hospitality after today's Barcelona GP. 🧡

View all 381 comments

papayagirl: THE WALLPAPER???????????? 😭 → loveroflan: i zoomed in immediately → lanmeliehub: detective work paid off

raceweekendd: not him having a selfie with amelie as his lock screen i'm SICK 😭 → cherryvibes: your honor they're in love → dreamygirlie: case closed

fanoflando: the way nobody was even looking at lando's outfit anymore 😭 → goldenpapaya: straight to the phone

papayastan: HE DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO HIDE IT 😭

gridgirlie: whoever zoomed in deserves an award 😭 → racegirlie: fbi recruitment incoming → lanmeliehub: thank you for your service

loveroflan: imagine unlocking your phone and the first thing you see is your girlfriend 🥹 → sunsetamelie: that's actually adorable → softclouds: i'm unwell

ameliecore: they really are each other's biggest fans 😭 → goldenhouramelie: it's so cute → softamelie: obsessed with them

formulaheart: i know that wallpaper was changed approximately 0.2 seconds after they took the selfie 😭

fanameliee: THIS IS MORE ROMANTIC THAN FLOWERS I'M SORRY → cherryvibes: agreed → dreamygirlie: acts of service

papayadreams: imagine oliver just looking over and seeing his brother staring at his girlfriend every time he checks the time 😭 → sunsetracing: he's used to it by now → orangeera: family business

monacogirl: not instagram accidentally exposing his wallpaper 😭 → raceweekendd: biggest plot twist

landofan44: the fact it's a SELFIE makes it even cuter 😭 → loveroflan: not even a professional photo → lanmeliehub: just them 🥹

sunflowermelie: lando really said "my favorite picture goes everywhere with me" → goldenhouramelie: STOP 😭

midnightamelie: this man is DOWN BAD → velvetroses: has been → starrylan: continues to be

coastalgirlie: somewhere amelie is smiling because she knows exactly which selfie that is 😭 → paddockangel: she probably took it

f1fairytale: the wallpaper surviving race weekends is actually impressive 😭 → lovergirlie: permanent fixture → papayastan: never changing it

papayagirl: imagine asking lando what time it is and getting jumpscared by lanmelie 😭

formulafan22: bro looked amazing today and somehow the PHONE stole the headlines 😭 → cherryvibes: the phone won → dreamygirlie: main character behavior

amelievibes: i just know that's his favorite selfie of them 😭

gridupdates: the way he was just talking normally while unknowingly revealing his wallpaper 😭 → orangeera: completely unaware → raceweekendd: meanwhile the internet is in flames

papayastan: lock screen: amelie, home screen: probably charlie 😭

sunsetamelie: every week they somehow become more boyfriend and girlfriend 😭 → goldenpapaya: impossible yet true → monacofan: they're so domestic now

loveroflan: first the yacht dump now the wallpaper... we're getting FED 😭 → paddockvibes: it's been a great week

softpapaya: this is actually one of the cutest accidental reveals ever 😭 → racevibes: he exposed himself → paddockangel: voluntarily too 😭

landofan98: bro really carries her around in his pocket everywhere 🥹 → papayagirl: STOPPPPP

formulaedits: i know the photographers are zooming in on every phone from now on 😭 → cherryvibes: new fear unlocked → dreamygirlie: nobody is safe

amelieloml: imagine being his brother and constantly seeing that wallpaper 😭 → goldenhouramelie: he's probably numb to it now

monacolife: that wallpaper has definitely survived at least three phone updates 😭 → sunsetamelie: backed up to icloud immediately → loveroflan: protected at all costs

papayaqueen: this man has absolutely no shame anymore 😭 → racegirlie: and honestly good for him

gridgirl22: the way he's smiling in the wallpaper too i'm actually ill 😭 → papayastan: THEY BOTH ARE → orangeera: happiness overload

f1brainrot: his lock screen is his girlfriend while mine is a grocery list 😭 → lovergirlie: we're living different lives

ameliefanclub: they really went from hiding for years to accidentally exposing wallpapers 😭

landonation: no because that's such a boyfriend thing to do 🥹 → lanmeliehub: he's gone → papayagirl: completely gone

softvibes: imagine him checking the weather and seeing her face first 😭 → goldenpapaya: every notification blessed

monacomoments: they really are those couples who make each other their wallpapers 😭 → goldenhouramelie: middle school behavior → loveroflan: except they're adults 😭

f1dailyy: the wallpaper reveal has more engagement than the actual media day photos 😭

papayalvr: every race weekend we get one new piece of evidence that this man is obsessed 😭

starrygrid: no expensive wallpaper just a random selfie with the love of his life 😭 → loveroflan: SIMPLE MAN → paddockangel: hopeless romantic

papayaupdates: he looked so serious talking to people meanwhile the internet was zooming into 12 pixels 😭 → orangeera: priorities were clear

gridgossip: no because WHO noticed that 😭

loverlane: i bet amelie has the same wallpaper but with a different selfie 😭 → lanmeliehub: don't make me emotional → papayastan: i fully believe this

formulababes: imagine borrowing his phone for a second 😭 → cherryvibes: instant reminder he's taken

--------------

Lando stood in the middle of his hotel room, one hand lazily working at the cuff of the white dress shirt he'd reluctantly put on only minutes earlier. The room overlooked the Barcelona skyline, now painted in warm shades of orange as the sun slowly disappeared behind the buildings, but he hadn't spared the view a second glance. His suit jacket hung neatly over the back of the chair by the desk, polished shoes waiting on the carpet beneath it.

Everything about the evening was ready, except for him. Every minute that passed only reminded him that instead of being halfway to the airport, he would soon be sitting through another sponsor dinner, smiling politely, shaking hands, and pretending to enjoy conversations he knew he'd forget by tomorrow morning.

He let out a long, theatrical sigh as he reached for the black tie lying neatly folded on the dresser. Between the endless media obligations, the podium celebrations, and the sponsor commitments that somehow multiplied after every decent result, it felt as though the race weekend simply refused to end. All he wanted was to shower, throw on a hoodie, disappear into an airport lounge, and spend the next eleven hours flying toward Vancouver. Instead, he was about to spend his evening discussing luxury watches and business partnerships over a painfully expensive dinner.

He looped the tie around his neck with practiced movements, barely paying attention as his fingers worked through the familiar knot. His phone rested on the bedside table beside his wallet and passport, the boarding pass he'd checked at least six different times already sitting temptingly underneath. Every glance toward it only made the evening ahead feel longer.

A violent series of knocks suddenly exploded through the hotel room.

The sound echoed through the room so violently that Lando nearly fumbled the tie in his hands.

Another round followed immediately after, somehow louder than the first, the heavy pounding rattling the door against its frame with enough force to make him instinctively glance toward it. Whoever was standing outside clearly wasn't interested in waiting patiently.

—Mia...— Lando closed his eyes for half a second and sighed toward the ceiling.

She had probably decided he was suspiciously quiet for too long and assumed he had climbed out the hotel window or somehow managed to sneak into a taxi headed straight for Barcelona-El Prat Airport. Honestly, he couldn't even blame her. If the opportunity had presented itself, there was a very real possibility he would have done exactly that.

Another barrage of desperate knocks interrupted the thought before he could finish tying the knot around his neck.

Lando muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he abandoned the tie halfway tied around his neck. He rubbed a hand over his face, already preparing himself for whatever lecture Mia had undoubtedly rehearsed during the elevator ride upstairs. Knowing her, she had probably convinced herself he'd climbed onto the hotel roof in search of a helicopter to the airport. It honestly wouldn't have been the most ridiculous thing she'd ever accused him of.

—I'm coming!— he called out, loud enough to be heard through the thick hotel door.

The knocking didn't stop.

If anything, it became even more frantic.

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he crossed the room, fingers wrapping around the brass handle before pulling the heavy door open.

Oliver was standing on the other side of the door.

Not dressed for dinner.

Not looking remotely calm.

His older brother's hair was slightly disheveled as though he had been repeatedly running his hands through it, and his breathing came in short, uneven bursts that suggested he'd sprinted through half the hotel to get upstairs. One hand was still lifted from knocking while the other rested against his hip, and the expression on his face bordered somewhere between absolute panic and complete disbelief.

—Oli...— Lando blinked.

Oliver didn't answer the question.

Instead, he looked straight past him into the room as if checking Lando hadn't disappeared through the balcony already.

—Shoes,— Oliver blurted out. —Put your shoes on and come with me.—

Lando frowned.

The word came out slower this time, confused rather than reactive.

—What?—

Oliver didn’t even properly face him yet, already half turned back toward the corridor as if staying still physically hurt. His hand went through his hair again, rougher this time, and he exhaled sharply through his nose like he was trying to keep himself from spiraling in real time.

—Just… put your shoes on. Now. Come on.—

—Oli, what are you talking about?— Lando stepped slightly into the doorway but didn’t fully move out of it yet, still holding onto the frame like it might explain something. —You were meant to be at the dinner, weren’t you? I thought you were already getting ready.—

That made Oliver finally look at him properly and whatever expression Lando had expected, it wasn’t that.

There was panic, yes. But underneath it was something sharper, something more urgent that didn’t belong in a hotel hallway at all. His jaw tightened for a second before he spoke again, voice lower now but faster.

—Just trust me, alright? Put your shoes on and come with me.—

Lando blinked again, slower this time, as if his brain was refusing to catch up with the pace of reality.

—That is not an explanation.—

—It doesn’t need to be right now.— Oliver snapped, then immediately softened his tone like he regretted it. He dragged in another breath. —Lando, I’m serious. Just… please. Hurry up.—

—Oli, you’re freaking me out,— Lando said slowly, voice lower now, more cautious than annoyed. —What is going on? You don’t show up like this asking me to just drop everything unless something’s wrong.—

Oliver ran a hand through his hair again, harder this time, like he was physically trying to push panic out of his own skull. His foot tapped against the corridor carpet with restless urgency, and for a second he looked like he might actually drag Lando out by force if he didn’t move fast enough. He glanced over his shoulder down the hallway before stepping closer, lowering his voice like even the hotel walls might be listening.

—It’s not wrong like that,— he said quickly. —It’s just… I completely messed up.—

That sentence alone made Lando’s eyebrows lift higher, because Oliver didn’t “mess up” in ways that required midnight hotel interventions and emergency shoe instructions. Lando stepped further into the doorway now, finally letting the door swing open wider as he studied his brother’s expression properly. There was no joke hiding in it, no exaggeration, just pure, unfiltered panic that didn’t belong on Oliver’s usually calm face. It made Lando instinctively abandon the tie completely, letting it fall against his chest as he waited.

—Okay,— Lando said carefully, shifting his weight. —What did you do?—

Oliver exhaled sharply, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it worse.

—I forgot my anniversary.—

For half a second, Lando genuinely didn’t react at all, like his brain needed to physically translate the sentence into something meaningful. Then it clicked all at once, and his expression changed from confusion to immediate disbelief. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again, and he blinked like he had misheard something absurd.

—You forgot your anniversary?—

The words came out slower than intended, not quite judgmental yet, but dangerously close to disbelief. Lando stared at his brother as if waiting for him to correct himself, to laugh, to admit this was some elaborate joke designed to justify breaking into his hotel room like a man on the run. But Oliver didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. He just stood there in the corridor, breathing unevenly, eyes wide with the kind of panic that only came from fully realizing you had already lost valuable time you could never get back.

—Yes,— Oliver said immediately, too fast. —I forgot. Completely. I woke up thinking it was tomorrow, and now it’s basically today and I have nothing. She’s going to wake up and get ready and I don’t have a reservation, I don’t have a gift, I don’t have anything, and if I walk in empty-handed I’m dead.—

For a moment, the absurdity of the situation hit him so clearly he almost laughed. His brother, usually the calmest person in any room, looked like he had personally outrun disaster through three hotel floors just to stand in front of him.

—Right,— Lando said slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. —So you forgot your anniversary… and your solution is to wake me up from my emotional breakdown about sponsor dinners and drag me into your panic spiral?—

—You’re not asleep,— Oliver shot back immediately, pointing vaguely at his outfit. —You’re literally dressed like you’re about to negotiate a merger.—

—That’s because I am about to sit through a merger.— Lando gestured vaguely toward the room behind him, where his suit jacket waited like a punishment. —I have a sponsor dinner in, like, forty minutes.—

Oliver finally stopped pacing for half a second, staring at him like that detail had only just registered. Then, instead of sympathy, there was a flicker of something worse: realization that Lando was currently his only available lifeline.

—Perfect,— Oliver said quickly, stepping forward and grabbing his arm before Lando could protest. —Then we go now. You can help me on the way. Please, just get your shoes.—

—You cannot be serious,— Lando said, but he was already moving backwards into the room as Oliver followed him inside like a man on a mission. —Oli, I have a dinner. I have people waiting for me. I have Mia outside somewhere probably drafting my obituary because she thinks I’ve escaped through the plumbing system.—

—Mia can survive ten minutes,— Oliver replied flatly, already scanning the room like he was evaluating hostage extraction routes. —Sav cannot survive me walking in empty-handed on our anniversary morning.—

That landed differently. Lando paused for half a second, fingers hovering over his shoes, the weight of it actually sinking in now. For all his sarcasm, he knew exactly what that kind of mistake meant. It wasn’t just forgetting a date; it was forgetting her. That silence stretched just long enough for Oliver to take it as permission, already grabbing Lando’s shoes and practically shoving them toward him.

—You’re insane,— Lando said, jogging slightly to keep pace. —You know that, right? You’re actually insane.—

—Yes,— Oliver replied without hesitation. —Now come on.—

They moved quickly through the hotel corridor, passing quiet doors and dimmed lighting until they reached the elevators. Oliver hit the button repeatedly like it might respond faster out of fear alone, and Lando leaned back against the wall beside him, still trying to reconcile the fact that his carefully structured evening had just been hijacked by marital panic.

When the elevator finally arrived, they stepped inside in a rush. Oliver immediately stabbed the ground floor button multiple times like repetition could influence physics itself. The doors closed, and for a moment, there was only the low hum of descent and Oliver’s breathing still not fully stable.

The elevator doors slid open onto the hotel lobby before either of them spoke again, and Oliver was already striding toward the exit before the soft chime announcing their arrival had even finished echoing. Lando hurried after him, still tightening the knot of his tie with one hand while trying to keep up with his brother's frantic pace. Outside, the warm Barcelona evening had settled comfortably over the city, the streets still alive with Sunday traffic, tourists wandering between cafés, and the distant hum of scooters weaving through the narrow roads.

Oliver unlocked the rental car with a hurried click, barely waiting for the mirrors to unfold before climbing behind the wheel. Lando dropped into the passenger seat, pulling the seatbelt across his chest just as the engine came to life.

—I genuinely cannot believe you forgot your anniversary,— Lando muttered, looking sideways at him.

Oliver pulled out of the hotel entrance with a sigh that sounded somewhere between guilt and panic. The rental car merged into the steady flow of Barcelona traffic, brake lights glowing red beneath the fading evening sky as pedestrians spilled onto crosswalks and cafés overflowed with people enjoying the last warmth of the day. Neither brother spoke for a few seconds, the silence filled only by the hum of the engine and Oliver drumming anxious fingers against the steering wheel hard enough to make the leather vibrate beneath his grip.

—I genuinely thought it was tomorrow,— Oliver admitted at last, not taking his eyes off the road for a second. His voice carried the unmistakable frustration of someone angry almost exclusively at himself. —I woke up this morning, saw the date, and somehow my brain just... skipped it. It wasn't until Mum texted me after the race saying "Happy anniversary to you both" that I nearly threw my phone across the motorhome. I looked at the calendar three times hoping I'd somehow read it wrong.—

Lando let out a slow whistle through his teeth, sinking lower into the passenger seat as he watched scooters weave effortlessly between lanes ahead of them.

The rest of the drive passed in a tense kind of silence, the kind that didn’t feel comfortable for either of them but also didn’t have enough time to properly evolve into conversation. Barcelona blurred past the windows in streaks of warm light and shadow, the city still awake in a way that made Lando feel slightly more panicked with every passing minute. Every red light felt longer than it should have, every pedestrian crossing felt like an unnecessary delay in a timeline that was already falling apart.

Oliver kept glancing at the dashboard clock like it was personally betraying him.

—You need something good,— Lando finally muttered after a while, more to break the silence than anything else. —Not just flowers or whatever you usually panic-buy. Something meaningful.—

—I know that,— Oliver replied instantly, too sharp, then softened his tone. —I just… I don’t know what “meaningful” is in under thirty minutes in Barcelona.—

That earned a quiet scoff from Lando, who leaned his head back against the seat and stared at the ceiling of the car as if it might provide answers. His mind should’ve been on the dinner waiting for him, on Mia’s inevitable death glare, on the fact that he was already late before he had even properly left the hotel. Instead, it kept circling back to Amelie, as it always did when his brain ran out of urgent things to think about.

The thought was annoyingly automatic.

He didn’t realize he had gone quiet until Oliver spoke again.

—You’re weirdly distracted for someone whose entire evening just got hijacked.—

Lando blinked once, snapping back into the present.

—I’m multitasking.—

—You’re staring into space like you’ve seen the meaning of life.—

—I have not seen the meaning of life.— Lando adjusted in his seat. —I’ve seen your terrible time management skills, though.—

Oliver huffed a laugh despite himself, finally turning into a quieter side street lined with high-end shops and dim golden lighting. The car slowed as they approached a section of Barcelona that felt noticeably more expensive than everything around it. Glass storefronts reflected the evening glow, and elegant signage marked luxury boutiques that stayed open far later than most of the city.

Oliver parked quickly, barely straightening the wheels before shutting off the engine.

—This one,— he said immediately, already opening the door. —The hotel concierge said it’s the best one nearby.—

Lando stepped out after him, stretching his shoulders as they both moved toward the entrance. The storefront was understated in the way only expensive places could afford to be, soft lighting illuminating displays of jewelry behind thick glass windows. Inside, the air was cooler, quieter, almost unreal compared to the noise of the city outside.

A woman behind the counter looked up immediately, offering a polite smile that suggested she had seen every possible variation of panicked husband energy in her life.

Oliver wasted no time.

—I need something for my wife,— he said quickly, still slightly out of breath. —Anniversary. Tonight. Preferably something that doesn’t make me sleep on the couch forever.—

The woman blinked once, then nodded calmly like this was a completely normal request at this hour.

—Of course, sir. Let me show you some options.—

She gestured toward the cases, already moving into professional mode. Oliver followed her instantly, talking rapidly as she began presenting necklaces and bracelets, explaining materials, meanings, subtle details that Lando honestly stopped listening to after the first few seconds. Instead, he drifted slightly away, hands in his pockets, wandering between glass displays like a man who had been temporarily left unsupervised.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

Once.

Then again.

He pulled it out briefly. Mia’s name lit up the screen alongside multiple missed calls and a very short message.

Mia: Where are you? Mia: Dinner starts in 20. Mia: If you are not here I am telling them you died.

Lando stared at it for half a second, then locked the screen again without replying.

—She’s going to kill me anyway,— he muttered under his breath.

He turned slightly, glancing back toward Oliver, who was now fully engaged in conversation with the shop assistant. The woman had pulled out a delicate necklace, holding it against a black velvet stand while Oliver studied it like his entire marriage depended on choosing correctly in the next thirty seconds.

Lando drifted further down the aisle without thinking, passing rows of rings and bracelets until he found himself in front of a quieter section of the store.

Engagement rings.

For a second, he didn’t move.

He just stood there.

The glass display was softly lit, each ring resting on its own small pedestal like it mattered more than anything else in the world. Diamonds caught the light in ways that didn’t feel real, gold bands reflecting warmth that made everything else in the store feel slightly muted. Lando’s gaze dropped before he could stop it, scanning the shapes, the settings, the tiny variations that somehow all meant the same thing.

His chest tightened in a way he didn’t immediately question.

Amelie.

It wasn’t even a conscious thought anymore. It just arrived, uninvited but familiar, sitting quietly in the back of his mind like it had always been there. He imagined her standing in front of this exact case, not because she was asking for anything, but because she was the kind of person who would pretend not to care while secretly noticing every detail anyway.

He swallowed once, eyes still fixed on the rings.

Stupid.

The word flashed through his head, but didn’t stick.

Instead, he found himself wondering what she would pick. Not what she would want, because that felt too simple. What she would pick when she thought no one was watching. Something understated. Something that didn’t try too hard. Something that still somehow managed to feel like her without effort.

A sudden voice cut through the thought.

—Lando?—

He jumped.

Not slightly.

Properly.

His entire body jolted as he spun around so fast he nearly knocked into the glass behind him, one hand instinctively coming up as if to block something invisible. Oliver was standing a few steps behind him now, eyebrows raised, expression confused but not unkind.

—What are you doing?—

—Nothing,— Lando said immediately, too fast, too defensive. His hand was still halfway raised before he slowly lowered it, clearing his throat as if that would reset reality. —I was just… looking.—

Oliver glanced past him, following his line of sight for half a second before looking back.

—Right.—

There was a pause.

Then Oliver held up the necklace from earlier.

—Do you think Sav would like this?—

Lando blinked, grateful for the escape from whatever internal spiral he had just walked himself into.

—Yeah. Yeah, that’s good,— he said quickly, nodding too many times. —She’ll like that. Definitely.—

Oliver studied him for a second longer than necessary, like he was trying to figure out what version of Lando he had just interrupted.

—You sure?—

—Yes,— Lando insisted, already stepping backwards. —It’s perfect. Honestly. Get that. I’m going to... I’m going to grab the car. Mia’s probably about to file a missing persons report on me and I still have a dinner to pretend I didn’t abandon.—

Oliver hesitated.

—You don’t need to...—

—I do,— Lando cut in, already turning toward the exit. —You stay, pay, finish. I’ll wait outside.—

Before Oliver could argue, Lando was already walking away, pushing through the glass door and stepping back into the warm Barcelona night air.

The city felt louder again immediately.

Cars passed slowly along the street, headlights stretching into gold streaks across the pavement. Lando stood for a second outside the store, exhaling through his nose as if trying to reset his entire brain. He ran a hand through his hair, still feeling the echo of that display of rings sitting somewhere behind his ribs.

It didn’t mean anything.

It meant nothing.

It was just jewelry.

Just glass and metal and marketing and sentiment people liked to project onto objects.

Still.

He didn’t move for a moment longer than necessary.

Inside the store, Oliver finished the purchase with quick, slightly distracted efficiency. The shop assistant wrapped the necklace carefully while speaking softly, likely offering reassurance about timing and presentation. Oliver nodded along, still slightly out of breath, still clearly running on adrenaline and guilt.

When he finally stepped out a few minutes later, bag in hand, he found Lando waiting by the curb, leaning against the car with his phone in one hand and the other shoved into his pocket.

Oliver stopped for half a second.

His gaze drifted instinctively back toward the store window before returning to his brother.

Lando was staring down at his phone, screen dim, thumb moving absently across it. Not texting. Not scrolling. Just thinking.

Oliver followed his line of sight without meaning to.

Engagement rings.

Then back to Lando.

A small, almost invisible smile tugged at the corner of Oliver’s mouth, soft and knowing in a way he didn’t comment on.

He said nothing about it.

Just walked over, opened the passenger door, and climbed back into the car.

But as they pulled away from the curb, Oliver glanced once more at his younger brother in the reflection of the window, and the thought settled quietly in his mind anyway.

Somewhere between missed anniversaries, rushed dinners, and jewelry stores in Barcelona… Lando Norris was starting to look like a man who was thinking a little too seriously about forever.

--------------

liked by papayadreams, sunsetamelie, and others

lando.daily: Lando Norris spotted tonight outside Vancouver airport meeting fans after arrival 🇨🇦🧡

View all 528 comments

papayagirl: OH SO HE REALLY IS IN VANCOUVER FOR THAT 😭 → loveroflan: the timing is NOT subtle anymore → lanmeliehub: never has been honestly

raceweekendd: everyone pretending he’s just “traveling” meanwhile we all know 😭 → cherryvibes: bro went straight to her continent

fanoflando: not him doing airport meet & greet after a 10+ hour flight 😭 → goldenpapaya: love makes you powerful → paddockvibes: or delusional

papayastan: LANDO IN VANCOUVER = AMELIE IS THERE END OF DISCUSSION 😭 → orangeera: case closed → monacofan: no further evidence needed

gridgirlie: the way he ALWAYS appears wherever she’s filming 😭 → racegirlie: coincidence? never heard of her

loveroflan: imagine thinking he’s there for “vacation” 😭 → sunsetamelie: yeah sure buddy → softclouds: totally

ameliecore: he flew across the world just to be near her and y’all still debating 😭

formulaheart: airport fans don’t even know they’re witnessing lore drop → papayagirl: history being made casually → paddockangel: unbothered era

fanameliee: the way this relationship has turned into global logistics 😭

papayadreams: “why is he in canada?” girl be serious 😭 → loveroflan: we know why → lanmeliehub: we ALL know why

monacogirl: at this point he has more miles to amelie than to his own family 😭 → racegirlie: STOP 😭

softamelie: imagine being the fan and realizing you just saw him RIGHT before she posts from set 😭 → goldenpapaya: accidental spoilers → sunsetracing: you witnessed canon

f1fairytale: the commitment is actually insane though 😭 → lovergirlie: insane but romantic

gridgirl22: “just traveling” SURE 😭 → papayastan: we believe you king → raceweekendd: we do not

amelievibes: somewhere amelie is probably laughing reading all this knowing he really did fly out 😭

papayagirl: at this point “Lando in X country” is just a love language 😭 → loveroflan: location = Amelie proximity confirmed → lanmeliehub: GPS set to her

raceweekendd: not people still trying to say it’s a coincidence 😭 be serious

landofan98: bro landed and immediately entered boyfriend mode 😭 → cherryvibes: no warm up needed → dreamygirlie: straight into it

papayagirl: vancouver airport just became part of the timeline 😭 → loveroflan: important landmark now

formulaedits: i love how fans act surprised every time and it’s ALWAYS the same story 😭 → orangeera: and yet we still gasp → paddockvibes: tradition at this point

sunsetamelie: the real question is how long until we get a pap walk 😭

gridgirlie: the airport staff probably didn’t even clock they were witnessing lore 😭 → racegirlie: just another day for them → orangeera: meanwhile internet in chaos

ameliecore: the “he’s just visiting friends” narrative is not surviving this era 😭 → softamelie: it’s crumbling daily → goldenhouramelie: no defense left

papayastan: imagine being told “he’s in vancouver” and immediately going “oh so she’s there” 😭 → loveroflan: trained response at this point

formulaheart: this relationship is basically international stalking but romantic 😭 → cherryvibes: PLEASE 😭 → dreamygirlie: sounds bad but accurate

monacogirl: the way fans don’t even need confirmation anymore 😭 we just KNOW → racegirlie: trust issues cured

amelievibes: he could go anywhere and we’d still be like “ok so where is she filming” 😭 → goldenpapaya: exactly → sunsetamelie: linked permanently

loveroflan: someone check if Amelie’s call sheet suddenly says “surprise visitor” 😭

papayadreams: the real question is how fast he leaves after filming wraps 😭 → raceweekendd: 0.2 seconds → cherryvibes: speedrun romance

f1fairytale: imagine explaining this to someone outside fandoms 😭

gridgirl22: not even surprised anymore, just impressed at consistency 😭 → papayastan: he never misses → racegirlie: dedicated king

formulaedits: every time this happens it feels like new evidence but it’s literally the same pattern 😭

fanameliee: i just know fans at the airport are piecing it together in real time 😭 → cherryvibes: “wait… isn’t she filming??” → dreamygirlie: lightbulb moment

papayagirl: he’s one of the few men where “wrong continent” still means “correct relationship” 😭

ameliecore: the fact we’ve accepted this as normal behaviour is crazy 😭 → softamelie: we adjusted quickly → goldenhouramelie: adaptation

monacofan: i love how every time it’s just “yeah he’s there for her” and nobody argues anymore 😭 → raceweekendd: growth → orangeera: collective understanding

loveroflan: this fandom doesn’t need confirmation anymore we just need flight logs 😭 → paddockangel: investigative era

papayastan: vancouver is just monaco with more trees at this point 😭 → goldenpapaya: same energy → sunsetamelie: different scenery same storyline

--------------

The elevator doors slid open onto the quiet floor with a soft chime that echoed through the nearly empty hallway. Amelie stepped out slowly, every muscle in her body protesting after another fourteen-hour filming day. Her shoulders ached beneath the weight of the gym bag hanging from one arm, and the hoodie she had thrown over her workout clothes no longer did much to keep away the cool Vancouver evening that had settled over the city.

The apartment corridor was silent except for the muffled hum of distant elevators and the occasional sound of a television playing somewhere behind one of the neighboring doors. Normally, by the time she reached her apartment, all she could think about was taking off her shoes, washing the makeup off her face, and collapsing into bed with Charlie sprawled across her legs while Benny judged her from the dresser and Björn inevitably knocked something expensive onto the floor before midnight.

Tonight didn't feel any different.

She fished her keys from the front pocket of her hoodie, balancing the gym bag awkwardly against her hip as she approached the familiar apartment door. Her movements were sluggish with exhaustion, the kind that made even unlocking a door feel like unnecessary effort. She slipped the key into the lock without really looking.

The key barely had time to turn.

The door gave way beneath the gentle pressure of her hand, swinging inward several inches without the familiar resistance of the lock.

Amelie froze.

Her brows immediately knitted together as exhaustion gave way to something much sharper. She distinctly remembered locking the apartment that morning before leaving for set. She always did. Between the expensive filming equipment scattered throughout the apartment, her own belongings, and three very spoiled animals left home alone during the day, checking the lock had become muscle memory.

Slowly, she pushed the door open the rest of the way.

The apartment remained completely still.

Not unnaturally still.

Just... quiet enough for every tiny sound to suddenly matter.

Amelie stood frozen in the doorway for another second, letting her eyes slowly adjust as she scanned the familiar living room. The lamp beside the couch was exactly where she'd left it that morning. One of Björn's toys was still abandoned beneath the coffee table after he'd undoubtedly decided to attack it before she left for set. Her script sat folded open on the kitchen island beside an empty coffee mug she'd forgotten to wash before rushing out the door.

Her eyes continued sweeping slowly across the apartment, instinctively searching for anything that looked even slightly out of place. Nothing did.

The throw blanket remained folded over the arm of the couch exactly as she'd left it that morning. The stack of scripts she'd been studying all week still sat on the kitchen island beside her half-finished notebook, a bright yellow highlighter resting across the open page. Even the pair of trainers she'd kicked off the night before remained abandoned near the hallway instead of neatly placed in the closet where they belonged.

Everything looked... normal.

That was almost what made it worse.

Amelie stepped inside carefully, easing the apartment door shut behind her without allowing it to click loudly into place. Her heartbeat had begun climbing steadily inside her chest, every instinct telling her something wasn't adding up. The silence felt heavier now that she was standing inside it, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator somewhere beyond the kitchen.

Then it hit her.

Charlie.

Her brows furrowed even deeper.

Charlie always heard her.

It didn't matter if she'd only gone downstairs to collect a package or disappeared for three weeks filming overseas. The second the lock turned, he was usually skidding across hardwood floors, paws slipping everywhere while his tail threatened to knock over half the apartment before he launched himself directly into her legs.

Amelie stood still for a moment longer, letting the silence of the apartment settle around her in a way that suddenly felt unfamiliar. Her exhaustion didn’t disappear, but it shifted into something sharper, more alert, as her eyes slowly moved from the living room toward the hallway.

The absence of noise was what bothered her most, not the darkness or the stillness, but the fact that nothing was reacting to her presence. Charlie always reacted. Always. Even when she tried to sneak in quietly, even when she came home earlier than expected, he somehow knew. And yet now there was nothing, not even the faint sound of nails on wood or a toy being dragged across the floor.

—Charlie?— she called softly, her voice cautious as it disappeared into the apartment.

No barking answered her. No scrambling paws. Only silence returned, which made her frown deepen as she slowly adjusted the gym bag on her shoulder. Her gaze flicked toward the couch, expecting to see Benny already judging her existence from his usual spot or Björn pretending the world didn’t deserve his attention. But the couch was empty. The entire living room felt almost staged in its neatness, like someone had walked through it and paused time without leaving a single obvious trace behind.

Amelie hesitated, then carefully lowered her gym bag onto the couch as her instincts sharpened fully into alertness. She reached for the closest object she could find, a decorative vase sitting near the coffee table, lifting it slowly into her hands as if it could somehow serve as protection or at least reassurance. It was ridiculous, she knew that, but the combination of silence, the unlocked door, and missing animals made her imagination work faster than logic. She moved forward step by step toward the hallway, holding the vase with both hands now, every muscle in her arms tense as she approached the bedroom.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, which made her pause again.

Amelie leaned in just enough to push it open with her shoulder, keeping her body partially behind the door as it swung inward slowly without her fully stepping inside. Her eyes immediately landed on the bed, and the tension in her chest shifted instantly from fear to confusion and disbelief.

Benny was stretched comfortably across the middle of the bed like he owned the apartment, while Björn was curled closer to the pillows, lazily blinking as though the entire world was beneath his consideration. And right in the center of the room, Charlie was very much alive, very much energetic, and currently chasing a toy across the floor in a chaotic loop that involved zero coordination and maximum enthusiasm.

All three of them stopped at the same time and looked directly at her.

Amelie lowered the vase slightly, blinking once.

—Right…— she muttered under her breath, exhaustion catching up to her again. —I forgot I have terrible animals.—

Charlie immediately resumed running, completely unconcerned with her presence, darting past the bed and toward the hallway with his toy. The cats, satisfied she was not a threat or an interruption, returned to their original positions as if she had merely checked in for approval. Amelie exhaled slowly, shaking her head at herself as she turned away from the bedroom.

She walked back toward the living room, still holding the vase absentmindedly, already planning to set it down and collapse onto the couch. Charlie rushed past her legs again, this time heading toward the kitchen with sudden determination, probably reacting to nothing more than his own imagination. Amelie stepped aside to avoid him, barely registering his movement as her fatigue settled back in fully.

Then she heard a voice.

—Amelie?—

The voice came from behind her.

It was quiet, almost casual, as though the person speaking had simply expected to find her standing there instead of accidentally startling the life out of her.

Amelie screamed.

The sound tore through the apartment before she even realized she'd made it, her entire body reacting on instinct as the vase slipped violently from her hands. It crashed against the hardwood floor with an explosive shatter, ceramic fragments scattering across the living room while water splashed in every direction. The noise echoed through the apartment loud enough to send Benny bolting upright on the bed, Björn flattening his ears in immediate offense, and Charlie barking exactly once before sprinting toward the kitchen to investigate the excitement.

Amelie spun around so quickly she nearly lost her balance.

Standing several feet away, just outside the hallway bathroom, was Lando.

His hair was still damp from the shower, droplets of water continuing to slide lazily down the sides of his neck before disappearing beneath the white towel secured low around his waist. Another smaller towel rested loosely over one shoulder, clearly abandoned halfway through drying his hair the moment he'd heard the apartment door open. His expression mirrored her own shock completely, eyes wide as he stared at her standing frozen in the middle of the shattered ceramic pieces.

For one suspended second, neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

The only sound left in the apartment was Charlie's nails skidding excitedly across the wooden floor somewhere behind them and the faint dripping of water from Lando's hair onto the floor beneath his bare feet.

Lando was the first to recover.

—Jesus, Amelie...— he breathed, immediately taking half a step forward before stopping himself when he noticed the broken ceramic surrounding her trainers. His voice softened almost instantly, concern replacing the surprise that had flashed across his face only seconds earlier. —Don't move. There's glass everywhere. Just... stay there for a second, alright? I'll get something to clean it up. Be careful where you're standing—

He barely made it halfway through the sentence.

Amelie crossed the room before he could finish another word.

She stepped carefully around the largest pieces without taking her eyes off him, then abandoned all caution altogether during the last few feet separating them. Before Lando had any chance to react, she threw both arms around his neck with enough force to make him instinctively stumble backward, her momentum carrying them both several inches across the hallway.

His words dissolved against her lips before they ever had the chance to exist.

Lando's eyes widened for the briefest fraction of a second in surprise before instinct completely took over. One of his hands immediately found the middle of her back, steadying her where she'd practically launched herself into him, while the other instinctively cupped the side of her face. The kiss was messy, completely unplanned, born entirely out of relief instead of romance, but neither of them cared enough to make it graceful.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

The entire apartment seemed to disappear around them.

The shattered vase remained scattered across the hardwood floor only a few feet away, water slowly spreading beneath broken ceramic pieces. Charlie had abandoned his toy altogether and now sat several feet away with his head tilted dramatically to one side, watching them with the deepest concentration imaginable.

Amelie was the first one to pull back, though only barely.

Her forehead rested against his immediately afterward, both of them breathing slightly heavier than before. She kept her eyes closed for another second, as if she needed physical confirmation that he was actually there before allowing herself to believe it.

—You idiot...— she whispered, her voice cracking halfway through the sentence.

Lando let out the quietest laugh, relief washing over his features now that the initial shock had passed.

—I know.—

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, immediately reaching one hand toward his face as though she still wasn't entirely convinced he wasn't another product of exhaustion after another endless filming day. Her fingertips brushed lightly across the stubble along his jaw before moving toward his damp hair, still dripping slightly onto his forehead.

—You scared the absolute life out of me.—

—I know.— He winced apologetically. —That... wasn't exactly how I pictured surprising you.—

Amelie let out a watery laugh, the sound still carrying the last traces of the panic that had completely consumed her only moments earlier. Her heart hadn't quite settled yet, but now every frantic beat came from relief instead of fear. She shook her head once before taking the final half-step between them again, closing the tiny space that had somehow become unbearable.

Without saying another word, she leaned in and kissed him again.

This one was slower.

Deliberate.

She cupped the back of his neck as though she wanted to make absolutely certain he wasn't about to disappear the second she opened her eyes again. Lando smiled against her lips before kissing her back just as gently, one hand resting securely against the small of her back while the other brushed lightly through her hair that had become slightly messy during her dramatic entrance.

When they finally separated, it was only by a few inches.

Amelie smiled up at him, her cheeks aching from how hard she was smiling.

—I still think...— she said quietly, her thumb absentmindedly brushing over the stubble along his jaw, —...this is the best surprise I've ever been given.—

Lando's entire expression softened.

The exhaustion from two long flights, the race weekend, the media obligations, and the jet lag seemed to melt away just hearing those words. He looked at her for another second before leaning forward once more, unable to resist stealing another quick kiss.

Lando smiled into the brief kiss before resting his forehead lightly against hers, neither of them making any effort to create even the smallest amount of distance. He laughed quietly under his breath, his damp hair brushing against her forehead as he looked at her with the same expression he'd carried through airports, flights, and half a world just to see her standing in front of him.

—I missed you so much,— he whispered.

Amelie answered by wrapping her arms around him again instead of replying immediately, squeezing him tightly enough that he couldn't help smiling wider. She buried her face against his shoulder for a second, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo mixed with whatever hotel soap he'd undoubtedly stolen on his way out that morning.

—I can tell,— she mumbled against him. —You flew across an ocean just to scare me into dropping my favorite vase.—

Lando let out a quiet groan of exaggerated guilt, his forehead falling onto hers again as his arms tightened instinctively around her waist. Even after only a few seconds together, he already couldn't imagine letting go. The warmth of her against him, the familiar weight of her arms around his shoulders, the way she fit so naturally against him after weeks apart—it all settled something inside him that no podium, no trophy, no race weekend ever managed to touch.

—I owe the vase an apology,— he murmured with a small smile. —I'll write it a very heartfelt letter tomorrow.—

Amelie laughed, the sound softer now that the adrenaline had completely drained from her system.

—I don't think it'll forgive you.—

—I don't think it has much choice anymore.—

She rolled her eyes fondly before closing the tiny distance between them once again, stealing another kiss before he could say anything else. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but it was enough to make him smile against her lips almost immediately. Every time she kissed him after they'd spent days apart, it somehow felt like she was making up for every goodbye they'd been forced to say.

When she leaned back this time, she didn't go far.

Her nose brushed his as she smiled up at him, eyes shining with the kind of happiness that made the fourteen-hour workday disappear completely.

—I mean it,— she whispered. —It's still the best surprise I could've asked for.—

Without another word, Lando slipped one arm underneath her knees while the other settled securely around her back. Before she could even process what he was doing, he lifted her effortlessly off the floor, earning a tiny surprised squeal that echoed through the apartment.

Amelie instinctively tightened her arms around his neck as her feet left the floor, another surprised laugh escaping her lips while Lando carried her as though she weighed absolutely nothing. He looked almost offended by the tiny noise she'd made, the corner of his mouth lifting into that familiar boyish grin that always appeared whenever he managed to catch her off guard.

—You know,— he said, pretending to sound deeply wounded, —I've flown for nearly twelve hours. I think I've earned the right to carry my girlfriend for at least five minutes.—

She laughed again, one hand disappearing into the damp curls at the back of his head.

Lando didn't say another word as he adjusted his grip, taking a few careful steps down the short hallway while making absolutely certain he steered entirely clear of the glittering sea of broken ceramic near the door. He didn't care about the mess, nor did he care that he was still wearing nothing but a single white towel tied precariously around his waist.

He walked straight toward the living room and sank heavily onto the plush cushions of the couch, immediately pulling Amelie down onto his lap so that she was sitting completely on top of him. He wrapped both of his arms around her waist, burying his face into the crook of her neck just to feel her breathing, needing this physical closeness more than anything else after the endless days of long-distance separation.

Amelie let out a soft, contented sigh as she tangled her fingers into his damp hair, shifting her weight slightly to get more comfortable against his solid chest. She pulled back just a few inches so she could look down at him, her thumbs gently cupping Lando’s face while she scanned his familiar features beneath the warm glow of the living room lamp. A mischievous, teasing glint suddenly returned to her eyes despite the overwhelming tenderness of the moment, and she couldn't resist bringing up their favorite joke from the race weekend.

—You know,— she whispered, a playful smile pulling at the corners of her lips as her thumbs stroked his cheeks. —I’m still completely convinced that I am your ultimate bad luck charm, Lan. The very first weekend I’m not in the paddock, you magically drive a perfect race and secure an incredible podium finish for the team. The math is definitely matching up.—

Lando rolled his eyes dramatically, letting out a loud, exaggerated groan of pure exhaustion at her ridiculous theory before leaning upward to aggressively kiss the words right out of her mouth. He held the kiss for several lingering seconds, poured everything he had into it, and then pulled back just enough to look her dead in the eye with an expression full of unadulterated devotion.

—Stop the absolute bullshit, Amelie, because I am not letting you start with that curse nonsense again,— Lando told her firmly, his voice dropping into a deeper, incredibly soft register that made her heart skip a beat. —I don't care about the car, and I don't care about the points. I already have the greatest reward sitting right here on top of me, and there is no trophy in the world that even compares to finally coming home to you.—

Amelie’s expression melted completely at the sheer sweetness of his words, her heart swelling so much that she didn't even care how sappy they were being. She leaned down to press another soft, lingering kiss against his warm lips, completely choosing to ignore the glaring fact that there was still a massive puddle of water and sharp ceramic shards waiting for them in the hallway. For now, they simply stayed wrapped up in each other's arms on the couch, entirely content to let the rest of the world wait while the quiet apartment finally felt complete again.

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