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David found Yuna still rusting on the couch. He had take out in his hands. A peace offering of sorts, Yuna supposed.
They prepared dinner in silence. Plates were arranged, glasses filled. The silence turned the short width of the table into a great expanse. David wasn't going to break the silence. Yuna didn't want to.
"How was work?" There. That was safe.
David looked down at his food. "Slow."
Yuna nodded thoughtfully. "Hm? lots of time to kill?"
David frowned.
Yuna frowned back. "What?"
David seemed to regret what he was about to say before he even opened his mouth. It still didn't stop him. "I uh read about Ryan Price," he admitted. Not safe. Fuck. "Apparently he was a defenseman who retired early and just disappeared? I don't know. I was just excited that its a thing. He's alive. I found his address in Toronto!"
"David," Yuna tried and failed to keep her voice level. "Hockey players retire and disappear from the public eye, yes. But they don't disappear from their families."
"We don't know anything about Price's family."
Yuna put her glass down with a thunk. "I don’t know how you think any of this is doing anything except hurting me."
David's mouth paused half open. He snapped it closed. "I just don’t understand how you don’t want to have any hope." The calmness in his voice was manufactured.
Yuna's lungs rid themselves of air, "Hope?"
"Yes, hope!"
"You are Pandora’s fucking box, David. You know that?" Yuna rose from the table, taking her half finished plate with her. "You bring me nothing but nightmares and horror and pain, and all for what?" Yuna scrapped the remaining food into the compost. "The tiny minuscule dark curse of hope at the bottom? Like that's not the worst nightmare of them all?" She yanked the faucet to full. "To hope that he’s alive when we know he’s not. Hope only leads to more pain than all of it combined!" Yuna's voice cracked as she raised it high above the running water, "I just want to be supported by the only person left in my life!"
Fire flickered in David's eyes. "That's unfair."
"You are stagnant, David." Yuna scrubbed her plate under the torrid water, uncaring about her reddening skin. "You are refusing to process this. All your hope is doing to you is making it impossible for you to move on. You are trapped without having processed anything. You have to grieve! You’re stuck on a wild goose chase. And I’m alone!"
"You’re not alone." David rose from the table too; his plate stayed. "I’m right here, and I’ll do anything that I can to support you."
Yuna whirled away from the sink. Her hands screamed in relief. "Then stop chasing ghosts!"
"He’s not a ghost," David snapped. "Stop saying he’s a ghost. You’re wrong Goddammit!"
"We missed the signs, David. You have to admit that." Yuna couldn't believe they were having this argument again. "You can’t say they weren’t there just because we didn’t see them in time." Yes, she could.
"I won't accept that he’s gone until I’ve exhausted every trail. I don’t believe what you believe. I can't abandon him."
David did not finish his sentence with the word 'again.' Yuna heard it anyway.
"I'm going to bed." Yuna wiped her hands on her sweats and walked towards the bedroom. "Thank you for bringing home dinner."
-
David was already in bed when Yuna left the bathroom after brushing her teeth. He must have washed up in the kitchen skin.
Yuna met his eyes as she crawled into bed next to him. The tension from the evenings' argument crackled in the air. "Don't look up the trail again."
David's shoulders tensed. He didn't have to speak for Yuna to know he disagreed. "They never found a body in those woods."
Anguish tore through Yuna's chest, and her vision blurred. The blanket trembled against her iron grip. "That forest covers miles upon fucking miles. You expect them to?"
"Its my last clue–"
"Go to bed, David." Yuna's voice was the loud crack of ice when the lake was frozen too thin to stand on. "I cannot do this again."
"I keep hurting you. I am sorry." David's weight left the mattress, and cold flooded the space beside Yuna. "I should sleep on the couch."
The couch. When they'd needed to sleep separately before one of them would just slip into Shane's spare room. Neither of them went in there anymore, they just couldn't stomach it.
Yuna didn’t reply. She tried, but all that came out was a high-pitched sob.
The empty half of the bed drew on Yuna's grief in like a black hole. Yuna was alone. She was alone, and she was cold; everything was so cold.
"Baby?" David whispered, more of a plea than a prompt.
Yuna squeezed her eyes together and stretched her arm out into the darkness towards her husband.
His hand met hers and Yuna pulled David back under the covers.
Danny and Damian are friends (also known as: Damian has a crush on Danny) PART 14
masterpost PART 13
Author's note: This week has been hectic af. The office where I work changed buildings and I'm gonna be assigned more onsite work outside of the office (I'm hella scared, it's gonna be the first time I do that). Anyways, please enjoy!
When dinner is finished Dick proposes that he and the other younger ones go to the third floor living room and have a couple rounds of Smash Bros while the parents and guardians talk about adult stuff.
“Dude, you’re also an adult.” Duke reminds him.
“And my legal guardian if something ever happens to father.” Damian adds.
Both brothers are looking at their oldest with a deadpan stare as they speak.
“Let’s not forget the knee.” Steph helpfully adds.
“You’re married too.” Cass joins.
“Stop lying to yourself.” Jason says.
“Dude, you’re old too.” Danny tells Jason as he looks at him the same way Damian and Duke had looked at Dick.
Jason then proceeds to smack Danny’s nape while Dick scoops Damian up with his left arm and locks his other arm around Duke’s neck, successfully taking them away to towards the stairs to the upper floors.
“Can I?” Danny asks Clockwork while massaging where Jason had hit him.
“Go have some fun.” Clockwork says.
“Thanks!” Danny says with a smile and the hurries to where Jason and Cass are waiting for him.
When the mostly younger group completely is gone, Bruce, Selina, Alfred and Clockwork are left in the dining room. Alfred proceeds to serve a nice glass of bourbon for each of the adults but himself as they begin to amicably chat among each other.
“Must you two torture the poor boys?” Bruce starts as he looks at his wife and Clockwork. “I thought Damian and Danny would have a heart attack.”
“Oh, don’t be a party pooper, love.” Selina says. “Besides, it is more than obvious that those two will need all the help we can give them.”
“Selina is correct.” Clockwork agrees. “Daniel has always been quite dense when it comes to romantic feelings, also, you have to admit it was fun.”
“It was.” Bruces accepts. “But I don’t think we should intervene so directly.”
“You’re only saying that because you have not seen them look at each other like dying does whenever they are together for the last five months.” Clockwork shares. “As adorable as it is it is also quite exasperating.”
“I am afraid young master Damian has the same trouble when it comes to romance, mister Woodlock.” Alfred comments from his spot at the kitchen’s entrance, where he is dutifully standing. “But in his case, it might be because of his genes.” The old butler adds as he looks at Bruce’s back-head.
Clockwork and Selina elegantly laugh at the butler’s antics
While the more grown-up adults chat downstairs, the living room on the third floor has become a battlefield.
“Kick him!” Tim exclaims.
“The damn controller is not working!” Steph exclaims back.
“Go Danny! Do a fatality!” Jason cheers.
“How the hell did we end up playing Mortal Combat?” Duke questions to the air.
“That was always the plan.” Dick answers.
“If Daniel wins then he goes against Jason, and if he wins that then he goes against Cassandra.” Damian informs as he checks his notes.
“Kick his ass.” Cass states with a confident smirk on her face.
“Yeah? You and what toaster? Just you wait, I’ll take the champion title from under your nose.” Danny promises without tearing his eyes from the screen.
“Big words.” Cass answers him.
Danny loses every match against Cass – they have like five re-matches –, so he passes the controller back to Dick.
With his sibling’s attention completely on the video game – or so he believes – Damian makes his move.
“Daniel.” The youngest of the brood calls to the owner of his heart in a whisper. “Do you wanna see my cow?”
Danny’s eyes shine like the brightest of stars at the proposition as he nods his head in a discreet but fast pace.
Damian takes Danny’s hand – a move that makes electricity course from the affected hand to the base of his spine – and oh so very quietly pulls him away from his nosy older siblings. When both teens reach the open-door Tim and Duke are at each other throats – in the game – with Jason and Dick cheering for each of them, Steph is laughing maniacally as she eats pop corn and Cassandra… Cass makes eye contact with Damian as Danny steps out first, a smile on the asian woman’s fairy like face as mirth shines in her eyes, Damian, of course, makes a schussing hand sign to his sister as he glares ate her, action that only makes her smile wider.
“All good, Damian?” Danny asks him as he pulls their still linked hands.
“Yes, everything is fine.” Damian answers but before he walks away with Danny, he directs one last warning glare to his older sister.
 As they walk through the hallway Damian feels Danny’s hand, at first colder than most – Danny did mention having low blood pressure – slowly warming up between his fingers, and along that hand Damian’s cheeks when he realizes that he has been holding Danny’s hand for the last five minutes. Danny on the other hand is walking a bit behind Damian, letting him guide him through the maze of hallways that is the manor. Danny then looks down towards their linked hands and he can feel his core freaking buzz like a massive beehive, which immediately makes his paper pale cheeks blaze with rosy color and his pupils dilatate.
Oh, I like-like him. Danny finally realizes and then look up to Damian’s back head.
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Summary: Robotnik thought one Hyrbid was annoying, now he has two
Part 1 Part 13 Part 15
--
"Please take me on as your agent."
Those words hung in the air as Robotnik stared down at Rockwell. He watched as another bead of sweat ran down from her temple. Her hands were clasped so tightly, her knuckles were white. She stared up at him, eyes full of determination.
Narrowing his eyes, Robotnik put down his tools before approaching. He walked around her slowly, looking her over.
He was right in his assumption that she was wearing Stone's clothes. Coming around to stand in front of her again, he folded his arms and stared down his nose at her.
"How did you get in here?" He snapped. Deals could be made later, but he needed to know how she got in without any kind of notification to him.
"I threatened Stone to let me in here," she sniffed. "I forced him to help me."
"Just like that?" He asked dryly.
"He might be part dog, but he's a full pussy."
Robotnik's eyebrows rose. The only time he had ever seen Stone shy away from something was a fireworks display. Everything else he handled without fear. Even staring down the barrel of a gun before nearly tearing a man's arm off.
Rockwell might have the same training as Stone, but Robotnik wasn't going to believe for a second Rockwell could make Stone do something he didn't want to.
"So, what's the plan?" He sneered. "Do you honestly think I will kick him out and take you in?"
"No," Rockwell answered readily. "But, I think you need more than a pampered lapdog."
Robotnik couldn't make sense of Rockwell. Why was she so aggressive towards Stone? Hadn't they been friends?
Taking a step closer, Robotnik leaned over and grasped Rockwell's chin. Her teeth immediately flashed as a small growl left her. Ignoring the threat display, he noticed that she was starting to sweat even more.
Something was wrong.
"Doctor?"
Both Robotnik and Rockwell's heads snapped over to Stone, who stood in the doorway, wringing his hands.
Robotnik sent Stone a hard glare as he released Rockwell's face and stood straight.
"Stone, come here. Kneel."
Stone did as he was told, a guilty expression clear as day on his face. He kneeled right next to Rockwell, the female Hybrid refusing to look at him. Stone's nose twitched as he glanced between her and Robotnik.
"Stone, how did she get in here?"
"I already told you--" Rockwell started.
"Not you!" Robotnik barked. "Another word out of you and I'll personally kick you out."
Her lip curled as she silently snarled up at him, but kept her mouth shut. Turning his attention towards Stone, he saw Stone's ears fully down and his tail wrapped around his knees. Meanwhile, Rockwell was still at attention, her ears and tail giving nothing away.
"How," he hissed. "Did she get in here?"
Stone winced.
"I let her in, sir."
"But, how!?"
"Your security system can't identify different Hyrbids," Stone finally admitted. His head dropped as he gripped his knees.
"What?" Robotnik stared at him.
"You're system's biometrics can tell humans apart, but because Rockwell and I are both German Shepard Hybrids, I tricked your system into thinking she was me. As long as she stuck close enough to me when we entered, your system didn't catch her."
Robotnik's mouth dropped open.
Spinning on his heel, he sped towards his main console and brought up the security camera of the lab's entrance. Since he was expecting Stone, there had been no reason for him to watch it in real time.
Pulling up the video, he saw Stone was right.
Rockwell was plastered to Stone's back, hiding her face from the camera as they slowly entered. As soon as the door slid shut, Rockwell was able to take a step back, no alarm being sounded.
I just got played by my own agent...
Robotnik didn't know if he was impressed or not.
Or so incredibly angry, he was about to turn Stone's collar into a shock collar.
Breathing carefully through his nose, he turned back to the two kneeling Hybrids. Luckily, both were smart enough to not move an inch.
"And what was the plan after you got her in here?" He spat. "Play house? Hide away your little mistress?"
Rockwell lunged towards him, her claws screeching across the metal floor. Her teeth were on full display as she bit at the air. However, her knees stayed in the same position, partially staying where she was told to.
Next to her, Stone was letting out a whine.
"How fucking dare you!" Rockwell snarled, her teeth glistening. "I didn't come here to be insulted!"
"Then why come here in the first place?" Robotnik hissed back, storming up to the two again. Rockwell seemed reluctant to pull back, but a small tug from Stone had her sitting back again. She didn't bother hiding her claws as she glared up at him.
"Because I didn't want to become some brood mare. I joined GUN to be an agent, not pop out puppy after puppy."
Robotnik stifled a sigh. Of course it was because of the breeding program. She and Stone had purposely pretended to hate each other so they wouldn't have to go through the program.
"The general I was under," Rockwell continued, her voice growing calmer. "She was retiring and instead of reassigning me, they sent me to the breeding program. I would rather die than go there, so I escaped."
"Why here?"
"I..." Rockwell glanced over to Stone, their eyes meeting for a long moment before she met Robotnik's once more. "You gave Stone a collar."
"And...?"
"Then maybe I can trust you not to send me to the breeding program."
"There's nobody else?" Robotnik couldn't help asking. Who in their right mind would come to him for help? Everyone knew how much of an asshole he was. Even with Stone, who was the most loyal agent he had ever received, he was still harsh with him. Down right cruel even!
Well, not when Robotnik was giving him pets.
Or cuddles.
Or buying him new toys.
Or committing murder and planning a new one for him.
Other than all that, Robotnik was not a nice person!
"Everyone else would hand me over immediately," Rockwell snorted derisively. "Stone told me about you, so I took a chance."
"Why not defect?" Surely, there could be someone other than him that could help her!
"I can't," she shook her head. "Most of my paycheck goes to my sister and her kids."
Robotnik was going to throw something. Not only was Rockwell running from the very thing he had accidentally helped to put in action, but she had a sob story too.
Rubbing a hand down his face, he glared down at the two Hybrids in front of him. Then he paused.
"Wait, how did you tell her about me? I have full access to your accounts, I haven't seen you two talking," He questioned Stone, who was back to not meeting his gaze. Oh, what a naughty dog!
"We have a private server that we chat through. One that you don't know about."
Stone two, Robotnik zilch.
How was his agent outsmarting him this much?
Feeling a headache coming on, he looked over the two. Stone looked as if he was about to roll over and show his belly in submission. Rockwell was steadily breathing through her nose, but sweat was beading on her forehead. Robotnik swore she looked much paler than before.
Squinting at her, he raised a hand and summoned a badnik.
Rockwell's hackles rose as soon as the robot came into view, while Stone looked worried.
"Sir?"
"Quiet, you insolent mutt."
Rockwell's growl resurfaced. Raising an eyebrow, he had gestured for the badnik to scan Rockwell over. She nearly shied away from the robot as it scanned her, but Stone's tail brushed against hers, calming her.
Looking over the scan the badnik sent, Robotnik pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me you were injured? What happened?"
The scan revealed a stab wound to Rockwell's lower abdomen. The wound was shoddily stitched and wrapped.
"I thought if I didn't have a working uterus, they'd let me go," Rockwell mumbled.
"Oh? And how'd that work out?" Robotnik mocked.
Rockwell's hands balled up into fists as she refused to meet his eyes.
"You knew," Robotnik narrowed his eyes at Stone. "You could smell her bleeding."
"I smelled her when we were outside," Stone quietly admitted.
"Not a dead animal," Robotnik glared. How did he not know Stone was lying to him?
Sometimes he forgot he had a trained agent on his hands, not a hyperactive dog.
Robotnik was going to throw both of them out. Just to be done with this entire mess.
His glare was unrelenting as he stared down at them.
"Stone, take her to the room next to mine. I'm calling Dr. Vox."
"But--!" Rockwell's eyes were wild as she nearly jumped to her feet before doubling over and clutching at her stomach, a low groan of pain cutting her off.
Stone was next to her in an instant, rubbing her arms in comfort. He sent Robotnik a grateful look.
"Dr. Vox won't call the Hybrid Division," he assured her. "Dr. Robotnik and Commander Walters made sure she worked solely for this base, not for the division."
Rockwell didn't look entirely convinced, but allowed Stone to help her to her feet. She leaned on him heavily as he lead her back towards the elevator.
As the door slid shut behind them, Robotnik let himself fall back into his chair. Leaning his head back against the plush leather, he felt like screaming.
He wasn’t used to this—this being whatever weird routine they were beginning to fall into. But he picked her up in the mornings, drove her home when it was late, and somewhere along the way, their silences began to fill themselves in.
At first, it was just the little things.
She always checked that the passenger seat was adjusted just right before sitting down. She liked to lean against the window, staring out at the passing streets as if she were lost in thought, even though he had no clue what went on in that head of hers.
He learned that she didn’t particularly like the news. If he had the radio on and a news segment started playing, she’d subtly shift, reaching for her bag for some book or assignment to busy herself with. It wasn’t all that obvious unless you were paying attention.
And Lando always paid attention.
Sometimes she’d come out of class looking exhausted but would perk up when she spotted his car. Sometimes, she’d say a quiet thank you after he dropped her off, even when it wasn’t necessary.
Other times, she would get into his car, sighing, and when he asked Rough day? she would just nod. But later, as they drove, she’d start talking. Not about anything particularly deep. Just… bits and pieces.
“Had a pop quiz today. My brain is fried.”
Or, “Someone spilled coffee all over the counter today. Took forever to clean up.”
Or, “It rained earlier, but I forgot my umbrella. That was fun.”
He never responded with much — just a nod, a comment, an occasional smirk. But the more she talked, the more familiar it became.
One evening, she pulled out a small book while he drove. Lando raised a brow.
“You really can read in the car?”
She glanced up. “Yeah. Why?”
“Doesn’t it make you sick?”
She blinked. “Um… no?”
Lando made a face. “That’s weird.”
She let out a small laugh, amused.”Why would reading make me sick?”
“Y’know, with all the spinnin’ n’ all that.”
Lando looked over to find that she was staring at him like he had suddenly grown a second head.
Perhaps he could have phrased that better, but whatever.Â
“You’re weird.”
He smirked, but it softened at the edges.
The next morning, he pulled up to the outside of her apartment, engine running as he texted her that he had arrived. The early morning fog was just beginning to dissipate, giving way instead to the first brushstrokes of warm light through layers of clouds. He scrolled mindlessly on his phone, replying to messages and checking on shipments until he finally clicked his phone off when she got into the car, rubbing her eyes sleepily.Â
He tossed a protein bar onto her lap. She blinked down at it. “What’s this?”
“You never eat in the mornings.”
Her brows furrowed slightly, momentarily going still, before finally deciding it was safe, unwrapping it, and taking a bite.
Lando had no idea why that small victory felt satisfying.
The first time she gave him shit for his driving, he nearly kicked her out of the car.
“You don’t even drive!” he pointed out, incredulous.
She crossed her arms. “I don’t have to drive to know that cutting through that gap was reckless.”
“If there’s a gap, m’gonna go for it, of course. It was efficient. It was fine.” He had hoped for the words to come across as reassuring, but instead he just sounded exasperated.Â
How was he getting criticized by someone who didn’t even know how to drive?
“It was stupid, is what it was.”
He gave her a flat look. “You do know who you’re talking to, right?”
“I don’t care if you’re some racing prodigy or Lightning McQueen himself,” she shot back, unimpressed. “I value my life, thank you very much. This whole thing was supposed to be about protecting my life, not endangering it, remember?”
Lando groaned dramatically, muttering something that best not be repeated under his breath as he pulled up to her place.
But when she got out, she hesitated, glancing back at him. She hated walking out on a bad note, and perhaps his driving wasn’t all that bad. It got her here on time, after all. Plus, with how much he probably spent on her in fuel money alone… she could probably afford to let this one slide.
Just this once.
“…Thanks for the ride,” she said, softer this time.
His fingers tapped against the wheel as he nodded in acknowledgement. He spared her the barest of glancing before looking right back ahead, as if he was already mentally mapping the route to his next destination.
Perhaps he could afford to not cut off another driver while he was speeding.
Not that I actually did anything wrong though.
He looked at her one final time as she stepped out, offering an expression that almost looked apologetic. Or maybe it was just the lighting.
“Get inside safe, yeah?”
She nodded, shutting the door behind her, and Lando sat there for a few extra seconds, drumming his fingers against the wheel before shaking his head to himself. He waited until he was sure he saw the light of her living room flick on, and then drove away into the glittering lights of Monte Carlo against the dark night sky.
The next time he saw a narrow gap he could probably slip through just in the nick of time, he decided against a risk like that, even if it appeared like it physically pained him to do so. When that got him stuck behind an elderly woman in what appeared to be an even older car, he decided that being a good samaritan was an entirely unsustainable lifestyle, and that perhaps he could save these rare moments of caution and goodwill for when he might have another passenger in his car.
What was happening to him?
Over time, they learned each other’s habits, molding to become complementary to each other as they learned to exist in this shared, confined, space.
Y/N liked to listen to music, but never played anything too loud.
Lando always adjusted his seat at least once before he began driving.
She fiddled with the strap of her bag when she was nervous.
He drummed his fingers against the wheel when he was deep in thought.
She had a tendency to drop random tidbits about her day, and Lando—surprisingly—listened.
“Did you know that sea otters hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart?” she mentioned one evening.
Lando glanced at her. “Why do you know that?”
She shrugged. “I read it somewhere.”
A beat of silence. Then, “That’s kinda cute.”
She turned to him, smirking. “Aww. You have a soft side after all.”
Lando scoffed. “Shut up.”
She laughed.
Yeah. This was getting way too comfortable.
Lando wasn’t in the house as much anymore. He was still working of course, but he wasn’t around the way he used to be.
Max Fewtrell was the first to say something, leaning against the counter in the kitchen of Lando’s estate, sipping from a mug that definitely wasn’t his. “You notice he’s been out a lot?”
Carlos Sainz, sitting on one of the barstools, barely looked up from his phone. “He is always out a lot.”
“No, I mean—” Max gestured vaguely. “More than usual.”
Max Verstappen, who had been cleaning his gun with methodical precision, let out a quiet grunt. “Maybe you should mind your own business.”
Daniel Ricciardo grinned from where he was stretched out on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. “C’mon, Maxie, don’t act like you haven’t noticed. Something’s got him out and about more than usual.”
Fewtrell huffed, pointing at Daniel. “Exactly.” He turned back to Verstappen. “You’re telling me you haven’t clocked how often he’s dipping out? No meetings, no business, no us—just gone.”
Carlos finally set his phone down, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Maybe he’s just got something going on.”
“Or someone,” Daniel drawled, smirking.
Max Verstappen snorted, shaking his head. “Lando doesn’t do someone. Not consistently, at least.”
“Maybe not,” Fewtrell mused. “But—”
Right on cue, the front door opened, and Lando walked in, car keys spinning around his finger. He looked the same as ever, expression calm, but they knew him. And they could tell—he was up to something.
Daniel pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Where have you been, boss?”
Lando gave him a slow look before tossing his keys onto the counter. “Why? You miss me?”
Daniel laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Fewtrell raised a brow. “Seriously, though. You’ve been out more than usual.”
Lando shrugged. “Just handling things, you know how it is”
Verstappen leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing him. “Anything we should know about?”
Lando’s gaze flicked to him. He could feel them all watching, waiting for something—an answer, an explanation.
He gave them nothing.
“If you needed to know,” he said smoothly, “I’d tell you.”
Carlos let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Guess that’s that.”
Fewtrell wasn’t fully convinced, but he let it drop. For now.
Daniel smirked as Lando turned to leave. “If you are sneaking off to see someone, could you at least let me know so I can start placing bets?”
Lando flipped him off over his shoulder. The second he was gone, Fewtrell exhaled, shaking his head. “He’s definitely up to something.”
Verstappen hummed, leaning back, his gaze lingering on the door.
Whatever it was, they’d find out eventually.
The sun had already dipped below the horizon when Lando sat in the driver’s seat of his car, a rare moment of peace between the errands, the dealings, and everything else that had started crowding his head. She slid into the passenger seat, her bag slung across her lap, eyes a little more tired than usual. The weight of her upcoming midterms, work, and just the general stress of life had started showing in the shadows under her eyes.
He started the engine, glancing at her. They hadn’t said much in the last few minutes. The usual music wasn’t playing, and he didn’t feel like bothering with small talk, so instead, he reached for the radio dial.
“–And in local news, authorities are investigating the rise of The Reaper’s Circle, an organized criminal syndicate suspected of controlling various illicit activities across Monaco and beyond…”
Lando froze, his fingers hovering over the dial. He didn’t even need to hear more to know exactly where this was headed. The Reaper’s Circle. His circle.Â
The sound of the anchor’s voice blurred as his mind flicked to the possible consequences of what she might think. He hadn’t told her—hadn’t come close to it—but this was the kind of news she might have heard.Â
He glanced over at her. She was staring out the window, arms crossed over her chest, as if the news broadcast wasn’t even a thing, but he couldn’t shake the tightness in his chest. Was she already aware of Liam’s darker side? Did she know what the Reaper’s Circle stood for, what it was involved in?Â
The world of crime, of shadowy deals, of the kind of life he had kept carefully hidden from her was now creeping into the conversation, into her thoughts.
“You, uh, hear about this?” he asked, trying to keep his voice as casual as possible. He knew he couldn’t sound too offhand about it either. He had to gauge her reaction, figure out what she thought of it. What she knew.
She shifted in her seat, but didn’t turn to face him. “Not really,” she said, her voice distant. “Just that it’s… some big, like, gang or something, right?” She didn’t sound as if she cared much. Or maybe she was just choosing not to care.
Lando bit back a sigh of relief, but that relief didn’t last long. She had heard the name, though, hadn’t she? And she was living here long enough to know what kind of reputation The Reaper’s Circle had, even amongst all rumors. People who weren't directly involved in the business rarely understood the nuances—the difference between what was just noise and what was truly dangerous.
The radio was still blaring on, the words seeping into the car like a slow leak.
“Authorities have not yet identified the leader of the Reaper’s Circle, but rumors suggest it's someone with deep ties in Monaco’s elite—someone like Lando Norris, who has been involved in several high-profile events in recent months…”
The reporter’s voice faded as Lando turned down the volume. The silence was suffocating now. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, but she seemed lost in thought. Her lips were pressed tight, and she stared ahead at the streetlights flickering by.
“Do you think they’re right?” she asked softly, almost like she didn’t care to know but felt compelled to ask anyway. Her gaze was still fixed out the window.
“What?” He feigned ignorance. “About who’s behind the Circle?”
“Yeah,” she said. “People talk, you know? That guy, Norris something… Lando? Yeah, Lando Norris – do you really think he’s done all those things they’re saying?”
He felt the pressure building in his chest again. She hadn’t asked him directly, but it felt like she was. It felt strange to hear her say his name like that – like that name, his name, somehow belonged with the likes of the scum of the earth. She didn’t know him as Lando, but she had to know about the rumors surrounding that name.
“I’m sure it’s all just talk,” he said, trying to shrug it off, but it came out more clipped than he intended. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he wasn’t about to tell her the truth, either. He wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not now.
She didn’t respond immediately, and they rode in silence for a few moments. He could almost hear the gearing turning in her head. It was strange how he could feel the shift in the air when she was thinking, when she was quietly piecing things together.
“Well,” she said finally, “if it’s just rumors, I don’t think it matters.”
Lando let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. But then she continued, her voice distant again, “But… I don’t know. It just sounds so… dirty.”
“Some of the stuff I hear,” she added, her voice quiet and thoughtful, “it’s like… it’s almost impossible to believe. But then again, I’ve lived here long enough to know that nothing is really what it seems.” She paused, glancing at him briefly. “It’s funny, though. People still want to get close to it, don’t they? Like, they want a piece of the power, even if it’s just being near it. You can feel the pull.”
Lando swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. He had to force himself to let the silence stretch, knowing that any words from him would be too much. He kept his voice level when he spoke.
“It's dangerous stuff, for sure,” he said softly, his tone soft but probing. "What do you think?"
She hesitated for a long moment, then finally spoke, her voice more quiet than usual.
"I think..." She trailed off, collecting her thoughts carefully before speaking again. " I think it’s... immoral, obviously." She paused, eyes still on the passing streets outside. "There’s a lot of people who get hurt, you know? It’s not just business. There are consequences for the things people do, especially when they’re..." She sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Well, when they’re involved in that kind of thing."
Lando stayed quiet, heart beating just a little faster now, but not because he was worried. More because he knew she was right, in a way. He knew how things worked—he knew the cost of everything.
But what was he supposed to say? That he was the one behind it all? That he was the one pulling the strings? He couldn’t. Not yet.
She nodded slowly, her eyes focused out the window, but he could see the contemplation in the set of her shoulders, the way her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. She didn’t say anything for a long moment, and for a split second, he thought she might ask him if he was connected. If he was part of it.
But instead, she murmured, almost too quietly for him to hear, “I don’t know. I guess I can’t understand why anyone would choose that kind of life. It’s... dark. Full of lies and betrayal. It just can’t be worth it, right?”
Lando’s chest tightened. His heart beat faster than he wanted it to.
She wasn’t talking about him—she was talking about the Circle, about the darkness, about the world he moved in. But her words hit harder than he expected. And when she looked over at him, her gaze flickering with curiosity, he saw the same questions there. The same doubts.
He forced a smile. “Guess that’s why some people like living in the light.”
She offered him a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I suppose so.”
He wasn’t sure if she had connected the dots yet, but hearing her words stung nonetheless. He wanted to say something, to defend himself or explain. But the truth was, she didn’t really know him—not the full picture. And he wasn’t ready to let her.
“You don’t have to worry about it,” he said softly, glancing at her. “It’s nothing. They’re just trying to make something out of nothing.”
Plus, none of those idiots can hurt you when you’re with me anyway.Â
She nodded absently. “I guess so.”
For the rest of the drive, Lando focused on the road, each streetlight flickering by like the fading fragments of the conversation they’d just had. But as he pulled into her neighborhood, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the gap between them had somehow widened—something had shifted, and he wasn’t sure if it was a crack in the foundation or just the weight of the world finally settling between them.
He parked the car and waited for her to step out.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said, her voice soft.
Was it quieter than usual?
“No problem,” he replied, his fingers gripping the wheel a little harder than necessary.
She didn’t look back at him as she walked toward her apartment, the soft click of her shoes echoing in the night. But he couldn’t help but wonder, just for a second, if she’d already made up her mind about him—about the things he’d done, the things she didn’t know.
Would she ever look at him the same way again?
The rest of his drive home was quiet, the radio continuing to hum in the background, the news segment forgotten, but the weight of it lingered. Lando couldn’t stop thinking about it—the fact that she didn’t know, couldn’t know, wouldn’t know the extent of his life, of the world he was part of. He had been so careful to keep it separate, so careful to hide the man behind the name. But for the first time, he wondered if it was enough.
And for the first time, Lando wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending.
a/n: another chapter that felt a bit filler-ish to me. hopefully it wasn't too boring haha
also thank you for the asks and comments! each one literally has me jumping up and down with joy
