C'est la vie

The ten-place grid penalty hung over the result like a shadow.

He wouldn't be starting third.

He'd be starting thirteenth.

The thought didn't ruin the lap, but it certainly took the shine off it.

With another slow breath, he unclipped the steering wheel, set it carefully atop the cockpit opening, and pushed himself upward using the familiar practiced movements that had become second nature after years climbing in and out of Formula One machinery. One boot found the sidepod before the other followed, and within seconds he was standing atop the McLaren, stretching briefly as muscles protested after another physically demanding qualifying session.

The Belgian afternoon air immediately hit his face through the visor.

He climbed down carefully, handing the steering wheel to one of the waiting mechanics before absentmindedly flexing his fingers, relieved to finally have his gloves off. His race suit clung uncomfortably to his back beneath the lingering warmth trapped inside the cockpit, and he rolled his shoulders once, trying to loosen the tightness that always settled there after pushing a Formula One car around one of the longest circuits on the calendar.

Without thinking too much about it, he began walking toward the small area reserved for the top three finishers.

Everything waited exactly where it always did.

His black Pirelli cap rested neatly beside the official watch, while an unopened bottle of water sat patiently nearby beneath the bright television lights. It was a routine he'd completed countless times over the years, one so automatic he barely needed to think about it anymore.

He reached the stand before stopping beside it.

For a second he simply stood there, both hands resting against the bottom edge of his helmet.

Then he lifted it away.

Fresh air immediately rushed across his damp curls, flattening them awkwardly against his forehead before he tugged the balaclava over his head as well, shaking it free with one tired motion. The world suddenly sounded louder without the insulation of the helmet surrounding him. Engines from nearby garages echoed faintly across the paddock, photographers shouted instructions to one another somewhere beyond the barriers, and thousands of fans continued chanting from the grandstands scattered around Spa's rolling hills.

He ran one hand absentmindedly through his hair before replacing the helmet with his Mclaren cap, pulling the brim low enough to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun. Only then did he finally grab the bottle of water, twisting the cap open and taking a long drink before lowering himself onto the small bench positioned behind the P3 marker.

His legs appreciated the break immediately.

For the first time all afternoon, he allowed himself to simply... stop.

One by one, other drivers began filtering through parc fermé on their way toward the FIA scales. Some barely glanced in his direction. Others offered the quick nod of acknowledgement that Formula One drivers somehow managed to communicate entire conversations through. George lifted two fingers briefly without slowing his stride. Charles offered a small smile before disappearing toward scrutineering. Oscar slowed just enough to lightly pat Lando's shoulder as he passed, neither of them needing to say anything aloud.

Lando remained seated on the narrow bench, absentmindedly twisting the half-empty water bottle between both hands while drivers, engineers, and FIA officials continued moving around him with the practiced rhythm that always followed qualifying.

His body was beginning to register every corner he'd thrown the McLaren through over the previous hour, the adrenaline gradually giving way to that familiar heaviness settling into his shoulders and neck. Normally, he'd already be mentally preparing himself for interviews, debriefs, and explaining yet again why a good qualifying position didn't really matter when a ten-place grid penalty waited for him tomorrow. It wasn't disappointment exactly. More like quiet acceptance.

His eyes wandered absentmindedly toward the line of drivers still making their way to the scales, following the familiar procession without truly paying attention. Somewhere nearby photographers continued shouting names in several different languages, hoping one of the drivers would glance toward their cameras for just a second. Television crews hurried around parc fermé with cables draped over their shoulders while mechanics leaned over barriers trying to catch brief conversations before the FIA herded everyone toward media duties. It was the usual controlled chaos that followed every qualifying session, so familiar that Lando barely registered most of it anymore.

He unscrewed the water bottle again and lifted it toward his lips, letting the cool water wash away the dryness in his throat while his gaze remained fixed somewhere across the paddock. Then, almost by accident, something caught the corner of his eye.

Movement.

Not the hurried movement of mechanics or photographers.

Something slower.

He frowned almost imperceptibly.

For the briefest second he convinced himself exhaustion was finally catching up with him. The previous two weeks had been ridiculous by anyone's standards, and after crossing continents seemingly every other day, his brain probably wasn't operating at one hundred percent anymore. He lowered the bottle slightly, blinking once before looking back toward the same spot.

The blonde figure was still there.

Standing quietly behind the barriers beside another familiar brunette.

Lando's heartbeat seemed to stop altogether.

For one impossibly long second, his exhausted brain stubbornly refused to believe what his eyes were showing him. He blinked again, convinced the fatigue from another relentless qualifying session had finally begun inventing things for its own entertainment. The paddock had been full of blonde women all afternoon. Fans. Team guests. Journalists. It would hardly be surprising if he'd simply mistaken someone else for the person he'd spent the entire week wishing was standing beside him.

But then the blonde figure smiled at him and suddenly there wasn't the slightest room left for doubt.

Amelie stood only a few metres away behind the parc fermé barriers, one hand wrapped casually around the strap of her small bag while the other rested against the metal railing. Beside her, Lily laughed quietly at whatever she'd just whispered, but Amelie wasn't looking at Lily anymore. Her entire attention had settled on him, amusement already dancing behind her eyes as she watched the exact moment realization spread across his face.

Lando felt every ounce of tension he'd been carrying since climbing out of the car simply... disappear.

The disappointment over the grid penalty.

The frustration of knowing third place wasn't really third place.

The lingering exhaustion from crossing time zones, media sessions, engineering meetings, and endless flights.

It all dissolved so quickly it almost made him dizzy.

His face softened without him even realizing it.

Then, before his brain had the opportunity to process what his body was already doing, he was on his feet.

The water bottle remained forgotten on the bench beside the P3 board, the cap still sitting crookedly against the opening. His official watch stayed exactly where Formula One had placed it. Someone from television called his name, presumably wanting him positioned correctly before the top three photographs.

He didn't hear a single word.

The only thing registering inside his mind was the woman standing on the opposite side of the barrier.

He crossed the small stretch of asphalt between them in quick, almost impatient strides, barely noticing the collection of photographers whose lenses instinctively swung in his direction the second they realized where he was heading. The familiar clicking of shutters grew louder with every step, but it might as well have been background noise.

Amelie barely had time to smile wider before Lando reached her.

Without a second of hesitation, he slipped one arm securely around her waist while the other wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her completely against him with enough force that her feet nearly left the ground. She laughed the instant she collided with his chest, the sound disappearing against his race suit as she instinctively slid both arms around his neck, holding onto him just as tightly as he held onto her.

For several long seconds neither of them spoke.

They simply stayed there, wrapped around one another in the middle of parc fermé as though the entire Formula One paddock had quietly disappeared around them. Lando buried his face against the side of her neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo mixed with the faint trace of vanilla perfume that somehow still lingered despite what had clearly been a transatlantic journey. It grounded him almost instantly. The relentless pressure of qualifying, the frustration over the inevitable grid penalty, the exhaustion accumulated from weeks of constant travel—it all seemed to melt away beneath the simple reality that she was actually there.

Amelie smiled into his shoulder, one hand gently disappearing beneath the curls peeking out from under his McLaren cap before scratching lightly at the back of his neck. She could physically feel the tension leaving his body with every passing second. When she'd first seen him sitting alone beside the P3 marker, shoulders slightly slumped while absentmindedly watching the drivers file toward the scales, she'd immediately recognized the expression. It wasn't anger or disappointment. It was simply the face he wore whenever he accepted something he couldn't change. Knowing she had managed to erase it within seconds filled her chest with a quiet warmth words couldn't quite describe.

Lando eventually pulled back just enough to properly look at her.

Both of his hands remained resting against either side of her face as though he still needed the reassurance that she wasn't some sleep-deprived hallucination invented by his overworked brain. His eyes searched every familiar feature one by one, lingering on the strands of blonde hair now neatly curled around her shoulders, the subtle makeup she'd clearly reapplied after the flight, and the unmistakable smile she'd been unsuccessfully trying to hide since he'd first spotted her.

He laughed softly, almost breathlessly.

—You're actually here.—

Amelie couldn't stop smiling.

—I am actually here.—

He blinked once before shaking his head in complete disbelief, another laugh escaping him as he leaned his forehead gently against hers.

—I genuinely thought I was losing my mind. I looked over, saw you standing there and thought, "Right... brilliant. Jet lag's finally done me in."—

She giggled quietly, her fingers absentmindedly smoothing the collar of his race suit where it had folded awkwardly beneath the HANS device moments earlier.

—I was wondering how long it'd take you to realize I wasn't imaginary.—

Lando laughed again, the sound softer this time, almost disbelieving, as though saying it out loud might somehow make her disappear. His thumbs slowly brushed across her cheeks while he continued studying her face, unwilling to look away for even a second.

—What are you doing here?— he asked, the question spilling out between another smile. —I thought... I mean... you told me you couldn't come. You practically gave me an entire presentation about production schedules and filming and why Belgium was physically impossible.—

His eyebrows lifted with every sentence until they disappeared beneath the brim of his McLaren cap, making Amelie laugh all over again.

She gently tucked a loose curl back beneath the edge of his cap before answering, unable to stop smiling herself.

—I know. I wasn't lying.— Her voice remained soft despite the organized chaos continuing around them. —I really couldn't come earlier. We filmed all day on Thursday, then worked the entire night until almost four next morning. The second we wrapped, I showered, changed, grabbed my suitcase and went straight to the airport.—

She laughed quietly, remembering the state she'd been in after stepping off the overnight flight.

—I actually landed hours ago... but there was absolutely no way I was walking into the paddock looking like I had just survived fourteen hours of filming and an overnight flight across the Atlantic.—

Lando's grin only widened.

She continued, shaking her head fondly.

—I looked horrifying. Honestly, I scared myself when I looked in the mirror at the airport.—

He laughed.

—I seriously doubt that.—

—I did.— She pointed at herself dramatically. —Mascara from yesterday, hair doing... whatever it wanted to do, absolutely no sleep. I looked like someone had physically dragged me onto the plane.—

Lando laughed quietly, the sound carrying that unmistakable mixture of disbelief and overwhelming affection that only seemed to exist whenever she managed to surprise him. His hands never left her face, his thumbs still lazily brushing across her cheeks as though he needed the constant reassurance that she was actually standing in front of him and hadn't vanished the second he blinked.

—So... what happened?— he asked, his smile refusing to leave his face for even a second. —Because you definitely don't look like you've just survived fourteen hours of filming and an overnight flight.—

Amelie glanced briefly toward Lily, who was already laughing beside the barrier before looking back at Lando with an expression that made it abundantly clear she'd been very pleased with herself all afternoon.

—I might have had a little help,— she admitted, smiling sheepishly. —Lily rescued me.—

Lily immediately lifted both hands in surrender.

—I refuse to let one of my best friends surprise her boyfriend looking like she'd just escaped a zombie apocalypse,— she called over with a grin.

Amelie laughed, nodding in agreement.

—I landed, looked at myself in the mirror, nearly had a heart attack, and texted Lily asking if there was anywhere I could hide for an hour. She and Alex let me completely invade their hotel room while they were already at the circuit. I stole her shower, borrowed half her vanity, spent way too long trying to convince my hair to behave, and by the time I finished... qualifying had already started.—

Lando turned toward Lily with complete sincerity, still keeping one arm securely wrapped around Amelie's waist as though he had absolutely no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

—I'm buying you dinner for the rest of the season,— he declared earnestly. —Actually... no. Forget dinner. I'll buy you an entire restaurant.—

Lily burst into laughter, waving one hand dismissively.

—I think Alex would have questions if you suddenly bought me a restaurant.—

—Fine,— Lando corrected immediately, never taking his eyes off Amelie. —I'll buy both of you dinner.—

Alex, who had only just wandered back toward the barriers after finishing his own post-qualifying routine, overheard the last sentence and raised an eyebrow.

—I don't even know what I did, but I'll take it.—

The small group laughed together, the easy atmosphere only making Lando shake his head once more in disbelief before looking back down at Amelie.

—I still can't believe you're actually here.—

She smiled warmly, her fingertips absentmindedly smoothing the front of his race suit where it had wrinkled beneath his harness only minutes earlier.

—I wanted to surprise you at your second home race.—

The teasing emphasis she placed on the words immediately made him laugh, his forehead dropping briefly against hers as he remembered the conversation in Vancouver only a few days before.

—You're never letting that go, are you?—

—Absolutely not.—

—Even after I explained the Belgian heritage?—

Lando let out another helpless laugh, the sound softer now, carrying the kind of happiness that seemed to reach every corner of his face before he leaned forward once again, stealing another lingering kiss without the slightest concern for the dozens of cameras surrounding parc fermé. Around them, photographers fired shutter after shutter, television operators quickly redirected their lenses toward the reunion, and several journalists visibly abandoned whatever they had been filming only moments before.

Neither of them noticed.

Or, perhaps more accurately, neither of them cared.

For nearly three days their relationship had been lived through hurried phone calls squeezed between filming schedules, race engineering meetings, airport lounges, and wildly different time zones. Now, after believing they wouldn't see each other until August, all of that distance disappeared the second their lips met. It was slow, unhurried, and entirely oblivious to the circus unfolding around them.

When they eventually separated, Lando rested his forehead against hers once again, smiling so broadly his cheeks had begun hurting.

—I genuinely can't believe you did this,— he admitted quietly, his voice filled with equal parts disbelief and admiration.

Amelie shrugged as though crossing an ocean on almost no sleep was the most reasonable decision imaginable.

Lando was still looking at her with that wonderfully dazed expression, his arm securely wrapped around her waist as though he was afraid that the moment he loosened his grip she'd disappear again, when a voice from the television crew echoed across parc fermé.

—Lando! Interview, please!—

The call barely registered in his brain.

He let out a quiet sigh through his nose, clearly unwilling to move, before leaning down to steal one last kiss that lingered just a fraction longer than the previous one. Amelie smiled against his lips, laughing softly when he seemed determined to prolong the goodbye for as many seconds as possible, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the fabric resting against the small of her back.

—I have to go,— he muttered reluctantly, although the words sounded far more like a complaint than an actual statement.

She smiled, brushing a loose curl back beneath the brim of his McLaren cap.

—I know. Go do your interview. I'll still be here when you're done.—

He looked at her suspiciously, narrowing his eyes with exaggerated dramatics before leaning in once more.

—Promise?—

Amelie laughed, unable to stop herself.

—I flew across the Atlantic for this surprise. I think I can wait another ten minutes.—

That finally earned the grin she'd been hoping for.

—Fair enough.—

He pressed one last quick kiss against her forehead before slowly letting her go, though even then his hand remained loosely linked with hers until the very last possible second. Only when another member of Formula One's media staff gestured more insistently from across parc fermé did he finally begin walking backward toward the interview area, his eyes stubbornly refusing to leave her.

Lando had barely taken three steps away from the barrier when another familiar figure appeared from the opposite side of parc fermé, weaving casually between photographers and FIA officials with the relaxed confidence of someone who had spent nearly a decade walking through Formula One paddocks.

Max Verstappen had clearly noticed the entire reunion from a distance.

Judging by the amused grin already spreading across his face, he'd enjoyed every second of it.

He adjusted the sleeves of his Red Bull race suit as he approached, his eyes briefly flicking toward Amelie before landing back on Lando, who was still walking backwards because he seemed physically incapable of looking away from his girlfriend for more than a few seconds.

Max let out a quiet laugh beneath his breath.

—Mate...— he called out casually enough for both of them to hear. —Just marry her already.—

The words were delivered with complete confidence, the sort of teasing comment that existed naturally between friends who had spent years sharing paddocks, podiums, flights, and countless moments of one another's lives. Max expected the usual reaction—a sarcastic answer, maybe a joke about minding his own business, or even Lando dramatically pretending not to hear him while everyone nearby laughed.

Lando didn't make a sarcastic joke, nor did he roll his eyes or pretend the comment hadn't been made. Instead, he stopped walking altogether, turning his head slowly toward the Red Bull driver while an expression of complete, unshakeable certainty washed over his face.

—I intend to do that,— Lando stated plainly, his voice entirely devoid of hesitation as the single sentence hung in the air between them, striking with the weight of a massive, undeniable truth.

Max Verstappen froze mid-stride, his usual quick-witted composure instantly evaporating as his jaw dropped in absolute shock. The World Champion stood completely stunned in the middle of parc fermé, looking between Lando's unbothered, grinning face and Amelie—who was still laughing with Lily by the barriers, entirely oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend had just declared his intent to make her his wife to the entire paddock.

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

liked by papayahq, f1updates, and others

lanmeliehub: Lando spotted greeting Amelie after qualifying in Spa today — because no matter how the session goes, she’s always the first person he looks for. 🥹

View all 849 comments

papayagirl: WAIT AMELIE WAS IN SPA????? 😭😭😭 → lan4ever: THE WAY NOBODY KNEW → gridgirlie: girl appeared like a surprise character

orangeobsession: two days ago she was literally in Vancouver and now she's here???? 😭✈️ → papayahq: the travel schedule is INSANE

lanmeliehub: THE FACT THAT SHE WASN'T EVEN PHOTOGRAPHED ARRIVING 😭 → orange4ever: stealth mode activated → gridgirlie: secret agent Amelie

f1gossipdaily: everyone was convinced Lando was doing a solo weekend 😭 → papayaprincess: and then she appears after quali → lan4life: plot twist of the weekend

amesnation: she flew Vancouver ➡️ Spa just to support him 🥹

papayahq: LANDO'S FACE WHEN HE SAW HER 😭😭😭 → lan4ever: immediate mood boost → gridgirlie: someone check his heart rate

f1updates: the cameras caught the exact moment he realized she was there 😭 → orange4ever: his smile changed instantly → papayagirl: don't make me cry

gridgirlie: okay but HOW did she avoid every single paddock entrance photo 😭 → f1detectives: new mission unlocked

papayaprincess: Amelie really went undercover like she was on a spy mission 😂

amelieupdates: she went from FX Studios in Vancouver to Spa in 48 hours 😭 → amesnation: her passport needs a break → papayahq: someone buy that woman a plane seat permanently

f1gossipdaily: Lando thought he was having a quiet race weekend and then surprise girlfriend appeared 😭 → orangeobsession: best surprise honestly

papayagirl: not the paddock finding out at the same time as us 😭 → gridgirlie: even the photographers were confused → f1updates: nobody had her on the bingo card

orange4ever: the fact she didn't walk in with him this morning makes this 10x funnier 😭 → lan4life: she really said "i'll show up when i want"

lanmeliehub: post-quali Lando finding his favorite person 🥹 → papayahq: after all that pressure too → orangeobsession: exactly what he needed

f1fangirl99: imagine being Lando: stressful qualifying day, then suddenly Amelie is there 😭 → gridgirlie: instant serotonin

amesnation: she literally crossed an ocean and nobody knew 😭 → orange4ever: the commitment is unmatched → papayagirl: girlfriend of the year

f1updates: Spa weekend went from "no Amelie content" to THIS 😭 → papayahq: we were starving and got a feast → lanmeliehub: thank you secret mission

papayaprincess: honestly the cutest part is she didn't make it about being seen, she just showed up for him 🥹 → amesdefender: exactly

f1fangirl99: THE WAY EVERYONE WAS SAYING "NO AMELIE THIS WEEKEND" AND SHE JUST SPAWNED 😭 → papayagirl: literally a surprise DLC character → gridgirlie: nobody had the update installed

orangegrid: she really said "you thought i wasn't coming?" 😂 → lanmeliehub: the ultimate plot twist

papayaprincess: imagine being Lando and seeing your girlfriend after thinking she was thousands of miles away 🥹 → lan4ever: i would cry honestly → orange4ever: same, especially after quali

f1updates: the biggest surprise of Spa weekend wasn't qualifying results, it was Amelie appearing 😭 → gridgirlie: the paddock gossip was WORKING overtime → papayagirl: journalists were probably so confused

lanmeliehub: the "i'm here" energy was SO cute 😭

ameliecentral: SHE DIDN'T EVEN WALK THE PADDOCK THIS MORNING??? 😭 → amesnation: she mastered invisibility

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

The morning after qualifying arrived much quieter than either of them expected.

For once, there was no frantic alarm pulling them out of sleep, no immediate rush toward a paddock schedule, no phone constantly buzzing with reminders of media commitments, engineering meetings, or production calls. The world outside their hotel room was slowly waking up, sunlight filtering softly through the gaps in the curtains while the city of Spa moved around them.

Inside the room, however, everything felt strangely peaceful.

Amelie was stretched comfortably across the enormous hotel bed, her back completely flat against the mattress while her legs rested vertically against the wall in front of her. It was a position that would have looked ridiculous to anyone else, but after the chaos of the last few weeks, she had discovered that doing absolutely nothing for ten minutes felt like the closest thing to luxury.

Her phone rested loosely between her hands above her face, her thumbs occasionally scrolling through messages while she caught up on the endless notifications that had accumulated overnight. Social media had predictably exploded after qualifying, especially after her surprise appearance in parc fermé and the very public reunion that had taken place directly in front of several hundred cameras.

She had already seen enough edits, comments, and headlines to know that the internet had collectively lost its mind.

Not that she was surprised.

Still, seeing thousands of people reacting to something that had felt so personal only a few hours earlier was strange.

Almost surreal.

She smiled faintly at one particularly dramatic fan edit before locking her phone and letting her arm fall beside her head.

The room smelled faintly like Lando's shower gel and the coffee they had ordered earlier, the familiar scent making her feel unexpectedly at home despite the fact that she was technically thousands of kilometres away from where she was supposed to be.

She had already showered first, mostly because Lando had insisted she deserved the extra time after her overnight flight and surprise trip across the Atlantic. Her hair, usually styled carefully for events or performances, was now completely natural, pulled back into a simple low bun with a few loose strands framing her face.

She wasn't dressed for cameras or interviews.

She wasn't dressed for a red carpet.

She was simply Amelie.

A comfortable orange short dress covered her figure, the bright colour matching the warm morning light entering through the window, and her bare feet occasionally moved slightly against the wall as she relaxed.

Lando, meanwhile, was still in the bathroom.

The sound of the shower running had been constant for the last several minutes, occasionally interrupted by the faint movement of bottles being picked up or the quiet hum of him probably attempting to wake himself up properly. Despite having slept far longer than they normally managed during race weekends, both of them still carried the exhaustion of the previous weeks in their bodies.

For Amelie, the tiredness was different.

She wasn't exhausted from a race.

She was exhausted from filming, flying across the Atlantic overnight, surprising him, spending the entire afternoon at the circuit, and then staying awake far too late because neither of them had wanted the night to end.

It had been worth every second.

Especially seeing the way his entire face had changed when he realized she was standing there.

The memory alone made her smile.

She was still looking at her phone again, absentmindedly reading through a message from one of her friends asking if she had actually lost her mind by flying to Belgium for less than three days, when the sound of the shower finally stopped.

A few seconds later, she heard the familiar movement of the bathroom door opening, followed by Lando's voice somewhere behind her.

—Are you still pretending that position is comfortable?—

Amelie didn't even bother looking away from her phone.

She knew exactly what he meant.

The mattress shifted slightly as Lando walked closer, the sound of his footsteps getting louder until he was standing beside the bed. From the corner of her eye, she could see him looking down at her with the same amused expression he always wore whenever he caught her doing something completely ridiculous but somehow very Amelie.

—It is comfortable,— she defended immediately, still scrolling through her phone. —You're just jealous because you can't do it.—

Lando let out a quiet laugh, the sound still carrying that sleepy morning rasp that she secretly loved. He was freshly showered, his curls still damp and messily falling over his forehead, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist while he stood there pretending to judge her position despite the fact that he had spent years accepting that she could somehow make herself comfortable anywhere.

—I'm not jealous of lying on a bed with my legs against a wall,— he replied, shaking his head. —That sounds like something someone does when they're trying to recover from being ninety years old.—

Amelie finally looked away from her phone, narrowing her eyes at him.

—You literally spend your weekends complaining about your back after driving a Formula One car for two hours.—

Lando opened his mouth to respond but immediately stopped when he realized she had a point.

A very annoying point.

He stared at her for a second, towel still secured around his waist while he tried to come up with a convincing argument that didn't involve admitting she was completely right.

—That is different,— he eventually said, though even he didn't sound convinced.

—How?— Amelie asked immediately, the smallest victorious smile appearing on her lips because she knew she had him cornered.

Lando looked at her for another second before letting out a defeated laugh, running one damp hand through his curls.

—I hate when you're right,— he admitted, although the smile on his face completely betrayed how little he actually meant the complaint.

Amelie grinned, returning her attention to her phone as though she had just won an argument of great importance.

—You should get used to it.—

Lando shook his head, still standing beside the bed while watching her with an expression that mixed amusement and affection so naturally that neither of them even noticed it anymore. There was something strangely comforting about moments like this, the quiet ones that existed far away from cameras, fans, and the constant noise that followed them everywhere.

Yesterday, he had been sitting in parc fermé surrounded by thousands of people, television cameras, and the pressure of a Formula One qualifying session. Today, he was standing in a hotel room watching his girlfriend lie upside down on a bed while wearing a bright orange dress and scrolling through her phone.

The contrast was almost ridiculous, and somehow, it was exactly what he wanted.

—Are you actually going to move at some point?— he asked, walking toward the wardrobe where his clothes were already prepared for the day.

Amelie glanced toward him over the top of her phone, watching as he opened the wardrobe and started looking through the clothes he had carefully organized the night before. Even after years of watching him prepare for race weekends, she still found the contrast amusing. On track, Lando was meticulous. Every detail mattered. Every movement had a purpose. Every decision was calculated down to the smallest fraction.

But inside a hotel room in the morning?

He was standing there with damp curls, a towel around his waist, and absolutely no idea where he had put the pair of trousers he wanted despite the fact that they were hanging directly in front of him.

—Eventually,— she answered casually, returning her gaze to her phone.

Lando looked over his shoulder at her, clearly unimpressed by the answer.

—That's not an actual time frame.—

—It's a very clear time frame,— Amelie replied without hesitation. —It means when I feel like it.—

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he pulled his trousers from the wardrobe and placed them on the edge of the bed. He had learned a long time ago that trying to rush Amelie into doing anything she wasn't ready to do was almost always pointless. She had a very specific rhythm to her mornings, especially on race weekends, and after seeing the chaos of the previous day, he understood why she was enjoying every extra minute of stillness.

The room was one of the rare places where neither of them had to perform.

There was no need to be the Formula One driver everyone expected him to be.

No need to be the global pop star everyone expected her to be.

They were simply two people sharing a quiet morning before another busy day.

Lando disappeared briefly into the bathroom again, presumably to finish getting ready, while Amelie remained exactly where she was, enjoying the last few moments of complete laziness before they had to face the outside world.

She had barely returned to scrolling through her phone when a soft knock echoed through the room.

Amelie immediately froze.

Not because the knock itself was unusual. Hotels were constantly full of unexpected interruptions, especially during race weekends when teams, guests, and staff were constantly moving through the building. But something about the timing caught her attention.

Breakfast.

She had completely forgotten they were waiting for it.

She lowered her phone slightly, glancing toward the bathroom where she could still hear Lando moving around, before carefully lowering her legs from the wall. The sudden movement made her realize just how comfortable she had become because her muscles protested slightly after being in the same position for far too long.

With a small laugh to herself, she sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for her slippers.

—I'll get it,— she called toward the bathroom, assuming Lando could hear her over the running water.

She slipped her feet into the soft hotel slippers, quickly smoothing down the front of her orange dress before walking toward the common area of the suite. Her hair remained perfectly imperfect, the low bun slightly messy from lying against the pillow, but she didn't care enough to fix it.

She wasn't expecting anyone important.

She was expecting a tray of coffee, fruit, and whatever breakfast options Lando had ordered because apparently a Formula One driver needed enough food to survive a day at the circuit.

Another soft knock came.

—Coming,— she called, reaching for the handle.

The moment she opened the door, however, she immediately realized she had been expecting the wrong person.

Standing on the other side was not a hotel employee pushing a breakfast cart.

There was no neatly arranged tray, no polite greeting from room service, no request to confirm the order.

Instead, there was a familiar warm smile.

A smile she had seen countless times before, usually accompanied by a hug, a kind question about how she was doing, or some small comment that always made Amelie feel instantly welcomed.

Cisca stood there holding a small handbag over one shoulder, her expression immediately lighting up the second their eyes met.

For a second, Amelie genuinely forgot how to react.

Not because she wasn't happy to see her.

Quite the opposite.

It was because she had been expecting breakfast and instead had opened the door to Lando's mother standing there looking effortlessly put together, smiling at her like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Then the surprise faded into a huge smile.

—Cisca.—

The name came out almost like a delighted realization rather than a greeting, and within seconds Amelie was already opening the door wider, her expression completely changing from sleepy confusion into genuine happiness.

—Hi, sweetheart,— Cisca greeted warmly, immediately pulling her into a gentle hug as though they hadn't just seen each other yesterday at the circuit. —I hope I'm not interrupting anything.—

Amelie laughed softly against her shoulder, hugging her back just as naturally.

—No, no, you're not interrupting anything. I was just waiting for breakfast.—

Cisca pulled back slightly, still holding one of Amelie's hands between hers as she looked at her with an amused smile.

—I thought that might be the case,— Cisca admitted, glancing briefly past her toward the room before looking back at her. —Although I have to say, I was very happy when I heard you managed to come after all. Lando didn't stop smiling yesterday. I don't think I've seen him that relaxed after qualifying in a very long time.—

Amelie's cheeks warmed immediately.

She tried to hide it by stepping aside and letting Cisca enter the suite, but the smile on her face completely betrayed her.

—I think he was just surprised,— she said softly, closing the door behind her.

Cisca gave her the kind of knowing look only mothers seemed capable of giving.

—No, darling. He was surprised, yes. But that wasn't all.—

Amelie laughed quietly, walking back toward the living area while Cisca followed her inside. The suite suddenly felt a little different with someone else there, warmer somehow. Not because Lando wasn't already making it feel like home, but because Cisca had always carried that comforting energy that made Amelie feel like she belonged wherever she was.

Cisca settled onto the couch, placing her handbag carefully beside her before looking around the suite with a small smile. There was something almost amusing about seeing the little traces of both of them scattered around the room. Lando's team clothing folded neatly on one chair, Amelie's makeup bag open on the table, two coffee cups from earlier sitting beside each other, and her suitcase still partially unpacked from the rushed journey across the Atlantic.

It looked less like a hotel room and more like a temporary home.

—I'm really happy you came,— Cisca said after a moment, her voice softer now that they were away from the noise of the paddock. —I know you have so much going on with filming, and I know how difficult it must have been to organize everything so quickly.—

Amelie smiled, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch for a moment.

—It was a little chaotic,— she admitted with a laugh. —I think I spent more time running through airports than actually sleeping.—

Cisca laughed softly, shaking her head with the kind of affectionate disbelief that seemed to come naturally whenever Lando or Amelie described the ridiculous lengths their schedules forced them to go through.

—That sounds about right,— she replied, her smile widening. —Both of you are terrible at admitting when you need rest. You just keep going until someone forces you to stop.—

Amelie opened her mouth to defend herself, but the expression on Cisca's face made her immediately realize there was absolutely no point.

—Okay... maybe that's slightly true,— Amelie admitted, laughing quietly.

—Slightly?— Cisca repeated with amusement.

Before Amelie could answer, another thought seemed to cross Cisca’s mind because her expression shifted into something a little more playful. It was subtle, but Amelie had spent enough time around her by now to recognize that particular look. It was the same one Lando got whenever he had an idea he already knew he was going to act on, regardless of whether anyone else agreed.

—Actually,— Cisca began, leaning back slightly against the couch. —I was wondering something.—

Amelie immediately looked up from where she had been adjusting the bracelet around her wrist, instantly recognizing the tone in Cisca’s voice.

It was a harmless tone.

A sweet tone.

But also the tone of someone who had already thought through an entire plan before even asking the question.

—Okay...— Amelie said cautiously, a small smile forming. —What were you wondering?—

Cisca smiled at her reaction, clearly amused that she had already been discovered.

—I was thinking that maybe you would like to join me for brunch before heading to the paddock today.—

Cisca continued speaking before Amelie even had the chance to answer, her expression remaining warm as she explained the idea she had already been considering since she found out Amelie was coming to Belgium. She rested one hand gently on her handbag, glancing briefly toward the window where the morning light continued filling the room.

—My sister and my nieces are going out before the race, just for something relaxed before everything gets busy later,— she explained. —And I thought maybe you would enjoy coming with us.—

Amelie's expression softened immediately.

There was something about the way Cisca always included her that never failed to make her feel appreciated. It wasn't forced. It wasn't like she was being invited because she was Lando's girlfriend or because people expected her to be there. It always felt natural, as though Cisca genuinely wanted her around simply because she enjoyed spending time with her.

—Are you sure?— Amelie asked instinctively, because even though she loved spending time with Lando's family, there was still a tiny part of her that worried about imposing.

Cisca immediately gave her the same look Lando often gave her whenever she overthought something completely unnecessary.

—Sweetheart,— she said softly, almost laughing. —Of course I'm sure.—

The reassurance alone made Amelie smile.

—Lando is probably going to have to be at the circuit very early anyway,— Cisca continued. —And I know race mornings can be a little overwhelming. You don't have to spend hours sitting around alone waiting for him while everyone is busy. Come have brunch with us, relax a little, and then we'll all go together.—

Amelie looked toward the hallway leading back to the bedroom, where Lando was still getting ready, before looking back at Cisca.

The truth was, she had been planning to simply follow his schedule that morning. She had expected to spend a few hours at the hotel, maybe walk around a little, answer messages, and then head to the paddock whenever Lando needed her there.

But brunch with Cisca, her sister, and her nieces sounded much better, and she knew herself.

She was never going to say no to Lando's mother.

Not when Cisca looked at her with that warm smile that somehow made every invitation feel like a genuine welcome rather than an obligation.

—I would love that,— Amelie finally answered.

Cisca's smile immediately widened, almost as though she had been hoping that would be the answer all along.

—Good,— she said warmly, giving Amelie's hand a small squeeze before letting it go. —I was hoping you would say yes.—

Amelie laughed softly, shaking her head as she looked down for a second, feeling that familiar warmth spread through her chest. There was something about Cisca that always made even the simplest conversations feel meaningful. She had never made Amelie feel like she was just someone Lando had brought into their lives temporarily. From the very beginning, she had treated her with a kindness and openness that had made everything feel much easier.

—I'm just going to do my makeup really quickly,— Amelie explained, glancing toward the bedroom. —I promise I won't take long.—

Cisca immediately waved her hand dismissively, settling more comfortably onto the couch.

—Take your time, sweetheart,— Cisca assured her with an easy smile, adjusting the strap of her handbag before making herself comfortable. —I know better than to rush someone getting ready. Especially when they actually want to look nice.—

Amelie laughed softly, shaking her head as she walked backward toward the bedroom.

—It won't take that long, I promise.—

—That's what everyone says,— Cisca replied teasingly, and the comment made Amelie laugh once more before disappearing through the doorway.

The moment she stepped back into the bedroom, she found Lando already halfway dressed.

He had clearly taken advantage of the few minutes she had been gone, his hair still slightly damp from the shower but now pushed back naturally, a pair of dark trousers already sitting comfortably on his hips while he stood near the wardrobe searching for the final pieces of his outfit. His McLaren polo was folded neatly on the bed beside him, waiting for him to put it on before heading to the circuit.

Lando looked up the second he heard the bedroom door close behind her, his eyes immediately finding hers with the same sleepy curiosity that had been there all morning.

—Who was it?— he asked casually, still focused on adjusting the waistband of his trousers as though he genuinely expected the answer to be the breakfast he had ordered.

Amelie leaned against the doorframe for a second, unable to hide the smile that immediately appeared on her face.

—Your mum,— she answered simply.

Lando's hands stopped halfway through adjusting his trousers, his head lifting slowly until his eyes found hers with a mixture of confusion and immediate realization.

—My mum?— he repeated, almost as though he needed to hear the words again to make sure he hadn't misunderstood.

Amelie nodded, still smiling as she walked farther into the room, grabbing her makeup bag from where she had left it on the desk earlier. The expression on Lando's face was almost too predictable. He had the exact same look he always got whenever his mother appeared somewhere unexpectedly, a combination of affection, confusion, and the quiet suspicion that she had probably already planned three different things before he even knew what was happening.

—Yes, your mum,— Amelie repeated, opening the makeup bag and looking through it for the products she needed. —She was the one at the door, not room service.—

Lando stared at her for another second before slowly pulling his McLaren polo over his head, the movement slightly delayed because his brain was clearly still processing the information.

—What is she doing here?— he asked, his voice slightly muffled as he pulled the polo down over his shoulders.

Amelie looked over at him through the mirror on the desk while opening one of her makeup products, unable to stop the small smile that appeared because she already knew exactly where this was going.

—She came to see me, apparently,— she explained casually. —She was happy I made it to the race and wanted to invite me to brunch with your aunt and your cousins before we all go to the paddock.—

The second she finished the sentence, Lando stopped adjusting the sleeves of his polo.

Not because he was surprised his mother wanted to spend time with Amelie.

That part actually made perfect sense.

What surprised him was how effortlessly his mother had apparently integrated Amelie into the family plans without even needing to ask him first.

He turned around fully, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

—My aunt and my cousins?—

Amelie nodded while uncapping her concealer, already studying her reflection in the mirror as she dabbed a tiny amount beneath her eyes. Even after finally getting a proper night's sleep, the overnight flight from Vancouver still lingered faintly across her face, and she wanted to look a little more awake before spending the morning with his family.

—Apparently,— she replied with an amused smile, blending the product carefully with her fingertips. —Your mum said she thought I shouldn't spend the whole morning by myself while you're at the circuit, so she invited me to go with all of them. She said we'd have brunch together and then head to the paddock afterwards.—

Lando couldn't help smiling to himself as he reached for his watch on the bedside table, already knowing exactly how that conversation must have unfolded. His mother had always possessed an extraordinary talent for making people feel as though they had belonged in the Norris family forever, regardless of how recently they'd entered their lives. The fact that she'd gone looking for Amelie first thing in the morning instead of simply assuming she'd fend for herself felt entirely like something Cisca would do.

—And you said yes?— he asked, though judging by the makeup already spread across the vanity, he suspected he already knew the answer.

Amelie actually looked over her shoulder at him with the most obvious expression imaginable.

—Lando... it's your mum.— She raised one eyebrow as though the answer should have been painfully obvious. —When have I ever said no to your mum?—

Lando let out a quiet laugh beneath his breath as he fastened the watch around his wrist, unable to argue with that logic because, truthfully, he couldn't remember a single occasion where Amelie had ever declined anything Cisca suggested. It wasn't out of obligation or because she felt she had to impress his family. She genuinely adored his mother, and the feeling was so obviously mutual that sometimes even Lando found himself standing on the sidelines watching their relationship develop with quiet amusement.

—I suppose that's true,— he admitted, shaking his head with a fond smile before grabbing his wallet from the bedside table. —She does have a habit of getting exactly what she wants.—

Amelie laughed softly while reaching for her mascara, her movements practiced and unhurried despite insisting only moments earlier that she would be quick.

—It's impossible to say no to her,— she replied honestly, meeting his eyes through the mirror for just a second. —She's too lovely. I think if she asked me to climb a mountain with her, I'd probably just ask what shoes I should wear.—

That earned another laugh from Lando, who leaned casually against the wardrobe with his arms crossed for a moment, simply watching her. There was something strangely domestic about the scene in front of him that he hadn't realized he'd begun craving until recently. Amelie sitting at the vanity in one of his hotel rooms, quietly doing her makeup while they talked about brunch with his family, felt impossibly ordinary in the best possible way.

A soft smile lingered on his face for another second before he pushed himself away from the wardrobe.

—I'll go say hi before she thinks I've abandoned her,— he said, adjusting the collar of his McLaren polo one final time. He leaned down as he passed behind Amelie, pressing a quick kiss against the top of her head despite the fact that she had just started applying mascara. —Don't rush on my account.—

Amelie instinctively tilted her head back just enough to smile at him through the mirror.

—I won't. And don't distract me. If I poke myself in the eye because of you, I'm blaming you for the entire day.—

Lando laughed quietly, raising both hands in surrender before backing toward the bedroom door.

—I value my life too much to argue with a woman holding mascara that close to her eyeball.—

She rolled her eyes affectionately.

—Smart decision.—

With one last amused smile in her direction, he stepped out of the bedroom and into the suite's living area.

The moment he appeared, Cisca looked up from where she had been comfortably seated on the sofa, immediately smiling at the sight of her son.

—There he is,— she greeted warmly.

Lando couldn't help smiling back as he crossed the room toward her.

—Morning, Mum.—

He bent slightly to kiss her cheek before wrapping one arm briefly around her shoulders in a quick hug, something that had become instinctive every race weekend they happened to spend together.

—What are you doing here?— he asked with a laugh as he straightened again. —I thought you were meeting everyone later.—

Cisca looked entirely unbothered by the question, folding one leg comfortably over the other as though arriving unexpectedly at her son's hotel suite first thing in the morning was perfectly ordinary.

—I was,— she answered calmly. —Then I remembered Amelie would probably be sitting here by herself while you disappeared into meetings for half the day.—

Lando immediately nodded.

That part tracked perfectly.

—So,— Cisca continued, a small smile appearing as she glanced briefly toward the bedroom before looking back at him, —I invited her to brunch with your aunt and the girls.—

Lando smiled instinctively, although the expression quickly shifted into one of amused suspicion because he knew his mother well enough to recognize when she was only telling him half of the story. He slipped one hand into the pocket of his trousers before tilting his head slightly, studying her face with narrowed eyes.

—That's very nice of you...— he said slowly, dragging out the last few words. —...but I feel like there's another reason you're here.—

Cisca didn't even attempt to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

She simply folded her hands neatly over her handbag and looked at her son with the exact same expression she'd worn every time she'd caught him sneaking biscuits from the kitchen as a child.

—Perhaps,— she admitted lightly.

Lando immediately let out a quiet groan, already recognizing that expression far too well. It was the face his mother wore whenever she had already made up her mind about something and had absolutely no intention of pretending otherwise. He had seen it his entire life, whether it involved family holidays, Christmas dinners, or convincing one of her children to do something they hadn't originally planned.

—Mum...— he warned, drawing the word out with theatrical suspicion while folding his arms across his chest. —What have you done?—

Cisca looked entirely innocent, although the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her almost immediately. She tilted her head slightly, looking toward the bedroom where Amelie was still quietly moving around, the faint sound of makeup brushes occasionally reaching the living room before she returned her attention to her son.

—I haven't done anything,— she replied smoothly. —I've simply decided that now she's going to be officially part of this family one day, it's probably time she starts feeling like she already is.—

Lando stared at his mother for a long moment, completely frozen where he stood beside the sofa, his eyebrows climbing higher with every passing second as the meaning behind her words slowly settled inside his brain. It wasn't that he disagreed with what she had said. If anything, hearing her speak so naturally about Amelie being part of the family filled him with a warmth he hadn't expected this early in the morning. The problem was that his mother had delivered the sentence with such casual certainty that she might as well have been discussing tomorrow's weather.

He let out a slow breath through his nose before rubbing one hand across his face, unable to suppress the laugh threatening to escape him.

—Mum...— he muttered, lowering his voice instinctively so it wouldn't carry toward the bedroom. —Could you maybe... act a little less obvious?—

Cisca blinked at him with complete innocence, although the amused smile playing on her lips made it abundantly clear she knew exactly what he was referring to.

Lando stared at his mother for a long moment, completely frozen where he stood beside the sofa, his eyebrows climbing higher with every passing second as the meaning behind her words slowly settled inside his brain. It wasn't that he disagreed with what she had said. If anything, hearing her speak so naturally about Amelie being part of the family filled him with a warmth he hadn't expected this early in the morning. The problem was that his mother had delivered the sentence with such casual certainty that she might as well have been discussing tomorrow's weather.

He let out a slow breath through his nose before rubbing one hand across his face, unable to suppress the laugh threatening to escape him.

—Mum...— he muttered, lowering his voice instinctively so it wouldn't carry toward the bedroom. —Could you maybe... act a little less obvious?—

—Obvious about what?— she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly.

Lando looked at her with the expression of someone who had been thoroughly outmatched before the conversation had even begun. He had inherited plenty of traits from his mother over the years, but one thing he had definitely learned was that there was no winning when Cisca deliberately chose to play innocent.

—Exactly that,— he whispered, pointing toward her with one finger before lowering his hand again. —The "officially part of the family" comments. The way you keep looking at her. All of it.—

Cisca couldn't hold back her laugh anymore, the soft sound filling the quiet suite while she reached over to gently pat his forearm.

—Lando, darling, I'm simply being honest.—

He groaned dramatically, glancing toward the bedroom door as though checking whether Amelie had heard any of the conversation.

—Yes, but if you keep saying things like that she's going to notice something's going on.— His voice remained barely above a whisper as he leaned a little closer. —She notices everything. You know that.—

Cisca's smile softened immediately, though there was still a trace of amusement lingering behind her eyes as she looked up at her son. She had always found it endearing that the confident young man capable of throwing a Formula One car around Spa at over three hundred kilometres an hour could still become slightly flustered over something as simple as his mother teasing him about the future.

—Does she?— Cisca asked quietly, lowering her own voice to match his. —Because from where I'm sitting, she seems far too busy worrying about everyone else to notice half the things people do for her.—

Lando sighed through his nose, resting one hand against his hip while shaking his head with a helpless smile.

—Mum...—

She reached over once more, giving his arm another affectionate pat.

—I'm not trying to embarrass either of you,— she assured him warmly. —I simply adore that girl, and I refuse to pretend otherwise. She's kind, thoughtful, she flew halfway across the world after filming all night just to surprise you, and she somehow still apologized to me yesterday for arriving "late." If that isn't someone worth making feel welcome, I don't know who is.—

Lando's expression softened despite himself.

There was never any point pretending those words didn't mean something to him. Ever since Amelie had unexpectedly become part of his life, one of the things he secretly treasured most was watching how naturally she fit around the people he loved. She had never tried too hard, never forced conversations, never attempted to impress anyone. She was simply herself, and somehow that had been more than enough.

Still, he knew his girlfriend.

He knew how easily she overthought things.

He knew how quickly she'd convince herself she was imposing if someone made too much of a fuss.

That's what worried him.

He leaned a little closer toward his mother, lowering his voice another fraction.

—I know you love her,— he admitted quietly. —Trust me, I love that you do. Just... please don't make it too obvious today. If she starts thinking everyone's treating her differently because of me, she'll spend the entire brunch apologizing for existing.—

Cisca looked at him with an expression that mixed gentle understanding with an unmistakable spark of lingering amusement, opening her mouth to promise she would behave herself, but before she could utter a single word of reassurance, the bedroom door swung open.

Amelie stepped back into the common area of the suite looking effortlessly stunning, the bright orange short dress perfectly complemented by a pair of matching orange heels that accentuated her long legs, while a chic brown handbag hung loosely from her forearm. Her natural hair remained gathered in the neat low bun, but with a touch of fresh makeup enhancing her features, she looked completely transformed from the tired girl who had been lying on the bed with her legs up against the wall just twenty minutes earlier.

Cisca immediately stood up from the sofa, her face lighting up with genuine admiration as her eyes took in Amelie’s complete look.

—Look at you!— Cisca praised warmly, stepping forward to clasp her hands together with obvious delight. —Ready, sweetheart?—

Amelie offered her a soft, appreciative smile, nodding her head before turning her attention toward Lando.

—Ready,— Amelie confirmed gently, taking a few small steps across the carpet toward where her boyfriend was standing beside the couch.

Lando instinctively reached out to wrap one hand around her waist, pulling her close enough to press a quick, tender kiss against her lips, making sure to linger for just an extra second to whisper against her cheek how incredible she looked. Amelie smiled against his mouth, kissing him back before pulling away to begin walking toward the main entrance alongside his mother, already adjusting the strap of her brown handbag over her arm.

As the two women reached the threshold, Lando took advantage of Amelie being a step ahead to lean sideways, fixing his mother with a pointed, warning look as he quietly murmured one final reminder straight into her ear.

—Act normal, Mum... I'm serious.—

Cisca simply offered her son an innocent, completely unbothered wink before stepping out into the hallway with Amelie, leaving Lando standing in the doorway with a fond, quiet shake of his head as the two of them walked away together.

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

liked by orangegrid, lando, and others

paddockwags: Amelie arrived at Spa today alongside Cisca Norris, keeping it casual in a simple orange summer dress.

View all 474 comments

papayagirl: THE ORANGE DRESS??? 😭🧡 → lan4ever: she really said papaya support without even trying

gridgirlie: "i wasn't planning on being here" is the most Amelie thing ever 😭 → papayahq: showed up in a summer dress and stole the paddock → lanmeliehub: effortlessly iconic

f1updates: she looks like she packed for a beach day and ended up at Spa 😭 → orange4ever: the contrast is sending me → papayaprincess: everyone else in team gear, Amelie in vacation mode

amesnation: the fact that she literally came from Vancouver and probably grabbed whatever was easiest 😭 → amesdefender: and still looks amazing

papayahq: Cisca and Amelie arriving together 🥹 → lan4ever: the best duo → orangeobsession: mother-in-law content we love

f1gossipdaily: the Norris family really adopted the surprise appearance 😂 → papayagirl: Cisca said come on we're going racing

orangegrid: not her accidentally wearing papaya/orange AGAIN 😭 → lanmeliehub: the color follows her → orange4ever: at this point it's a uniform

papayaprincess: everyone spent two days saying "Amelie isn't coming" and now she's walking in like she's been there all weekend 😭 → f1updates: never doubt her travel skills → gridgirlie: secret agent behavior

amelieupdates: she looks so happy to be there 🥹 → amesnation: that's what makes it cute

f1fashion: the simple summer dress actually works so well for the paddock 😭 → gridgirlie: effortless styling → papayahq: "didn't plan it" but still nailed it

lanmeliehub: imagine Lando seeing her arrive in that outfit after thinking she wasn't coming 😭 → papayagirl: immediate smile guaranteed

papayaprincess: i need her energy

amesdefender: Cisca + Amelie walking into the paddock together is actually so wholesome 🥹 → orangegrid: they seem so close → lan4ever: family vibes

papayagirl: she didn't bring a paddock outfit because she didn't know she'd need one 😭 → gridgirlie: the dress said "summer vacation"

f1fangirl99: everyone else: team uniforms and planned looks Amelie: grabbed a dress and accidentally served 😭 → papayahq: her brand

orange4ever: Lando is going to be so annoying about this "surprise visit" forever 😭 → lan4life: "remember when you crossed continents for me" → papayaprincess: he'd absolutely use that

papayagirl: LANDO LIKED???? 😭 → lan4ever: he's awake now → orangeobsession: boyfriend mode activated

f1updates: the best race weekend surprises always come from Amelie apparently 😭 → gridgirlie: she keeps everyone guessing

amesnation: orange dress, Cisca by her side, Lando waiting somewhere... this is a movie 😭 → orange4ever: someone write the script → lanmeliehub: already living it

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

The McLaren Motorhome was already alive with the familiar energy that surrounded every race weekend.

Even before the cars lined up on the grid, there was a constant movement happening inside the team building. Engineers walked quickly between rooms with tablets in their hands, hospitality staff carried trays of coffee through the corridors, and guests moved between conversations while the distant sound of the circuit reminded everyone that the race was getting closer with every passing minute.

Amelie walked beside Cisca as they entered, still smiling from the morning they had spent together.

The brunch had been exactly what Cisca had promised it would be: relaxed, warm, and surprisingly normal despite the fact that Amelie was still getting used to the idea of sitting at a table surrounded by Lando's family as though she had been doing it for years. His aunt had been incredibly welcoming, his cousins had immediately started asking her questions about her music and filming, and by the end of the meal she had somehow found herself laughing along with stories about Lando as a child that she was certain he would have preferred remained private.

Cisca, of course, had been delighted.

Every time Amelie looked over at her during brunch, she caught the small, proud smile on her face whenever Amelie joined in the conversation or asked questions about family traditions. It wasn't overwhelming. It wasn't forced. It was simply Cisca being Cisca, making sure that everyone around her felt included.

Amelie had left brunch feeling lighter than she expected.

There was something comforting about how easily everything had unfolded. She had walked into the restaurant that morning wondering if she would feel like an outsider, if she would somehow interrupt a family moment that had nothing to do with her, but within minutes those worries had disappeared. Lando's aunt had treated her like an old friend rather than someone being introduced for the first time, and his cousins had been curious in the sweetest way, asking about everything from her latest projects to what it was like balancing music, acting, and traveling constantly.

The fact that nobody had made a big deal about her presence was probably what made it feel so special.

Amelie hadn't felt like she was being welcomed into someone else's family.

She had felt like she was simply spending time with people who already considered her part of theirs.

That realization had stayed with her even as they left the restaurant and made their way back toward the circuit. Cisca had spent the drive talking casually about the race weekend, asking Amelie about her upcoming filming schedule, and laughing about how impossible it was to keep Lando relaxed before a race because he always found something to overthink.

Amelie had laughed because, unfortunately, she knew exactly what she meant.

By the time they arrived at the McLaren Motorhome, the atmosphere had shifted completely.

The relaxed morning disappeared behind the familiar intensity of race day. Everyone inside was moving with purpose, the countdown to the start of the Belgian Grand Prix becoming more obvious with every passing minute.

Amelie followed Cisca through the entrance, still carrying her small brown handbag over one shoulder while listening to Lando's aunt and cousins continue a conversation beside them. The four women moved easily together, their laughter occasionally mixing with the noise of the team around them.

Amelie had barely stepped further inside the Motorhome when she felt that familiar pull toward the part of the building where she knew Lando would be.

It wasn't even a conscious decision anymore.

After spending the morning surrounded by his family, hearing stories about him before Formula One, laughing about childhood memories she had never heard before, and feeling more welcomed than she ever expected, the only thing missing from the day was seeing him again.

She had been away from him for barely a few hours, and yet, somehow, it already felt like too long.

She smiled slightly to herself because she knew exactly how ridiculous that sounded. They had spent the entire previous day together, had woken up in the same hotel room that morning, and she had literally flown across the Atlantic just to surprise him. Still, there was something about race days that made their time together feel different. Everything was scheduled around the clock. Every minute belonged to someone else. Engineers. Media. Meetings. The team. The race.

The small moments they managed to steal between everything else always felt more important.

Cisca noticed the direction of her gaze almost immediately.

Mothers, Amelie had learned, had a strange ability to notice things before anyone said them out loud.

—You can go see him, you know.— Cisca smiled knowingly.

Amelie looked back toward her, slightly caught off guard.

Cisca's smile widened slightly when she saw the small expression of surprise on Amelie's face, as though she found it amusing that she still felt the need to ask permission to spend time with her own boyfriend.

—You don't have to stand here pretending you aren't wondering where he is,— Cisca added gently, adjusting the strap of her handbag on her shoulder. —I know my son. He is probably somewhere complaining that you disappeared for too long.—

Amelie immediately laughed because, unfortunately, she knew Cisca was probably right.

She pulled out her phone instinctively, almost as if the universe had decided to prove the older woman correct at that exact moment. The screen lit up with a notification she had received thirty minutes earlier but hadn't properly checked because she had been in the middle of listening to one of Lando's cousins explain a childhood story involving him getting into trouble at school.

Her eyebrows lifted slightly as she opened the message.

Lan🧡: Are you still with my mum? Lan🧡: Not that I mind but I thought you were coming here after brunch. Lan🧡: I'm going to sleep for a bit because apparently I have been abandoned before my own race.

The last message especially made her laugh quietly because she could practically hear his voice saying it. The dramatic wording, the exaggerated victimization, the way he somehow managed to make taking a perfectly reasonable pre-race nap sound like a personal betrayal.

It was such a Lando thing to do.

—He really is dramatic,— she said softly.

Cisca immediately smiled.

—I know.—

The answer came with so much certainty that both Amelie and Lando's aunt laughed.

—But he gets it from somewhere,— his aunt teased.

Cisca placed a hand over her chest in fake offense.

—Excuse me?—

The group laughed again, and for a few seconds Amelie simply stood there watching them, feeling that same warmth from earlier return. She loved that they could tease each other so naturally. There was no pressure to act a certain way, no formality that made her feel like she had to carefully choose every word.

It felt like family.

Eventually, Amelie glanced toward the hallway leading deeper into the Motorhome.

—I'm just going to go see him before the race starts,— she announced, adjusting her handbag strap. —He'll probably wake up convinced everyone forgot about him if I don't.—

Cisca laughed softly at that, immediately recognizing the very specific kind of exaggeration her son was capable of producing when he wanted attention. It was one of those traits that had followed him since childhood, the dramatic sighs, the theatrical complaints, the ability to turn the smallest inconvenience into a story worthy of an entire documentary.

—That sounds exactly like him,— she agreed, shaking her head with an affectionate smile. —Go. Before he convinces himself we all abandoned him forever.—

Amelie laughed, already turning slightly toward the corridor that led further into the McLaren facilities.

—I'll be back before the race starts.—

Cisca nodded, giving her a small wave as she walked away.

—Take your time, sweetheart. We'll be here.—

The simple reassurance made Amelie smile.

Even after spending the entire morning with them, she was still getting used to how naturally Cisca included her in everything. There was never a moment where she felt like she was borrowing space in Lando's world. Somehow, without even trying, his family had made her feel like she belonged there.

She adjusted the strap of her brown handbag over her shoulder and continued down the hallway, the familiar sounds of race day surrounding her.

The further she walked, the more obvious the change in atmosphere became.

The hospitality area was filled with conversations happening in low voices, engineers reviewing final details before the race, mechanics moving between rooms, and team members checking their watches as the countdown continued. Everyone had a purpose. Everyone was preparing for the next few hours that would decide whether months of work translated into success or disappointment.

But Amelie knew exactly where she was going.

She had been in enough paddocks now to understand the rhythm of race weekends, to know which doors were usually open, which hallways led to drivers' rooms, and when Lando disappeared somewhere quiet because he needed a few minutes away from the noise.

Today, apparently, that quiet place had been his driver's room.

She reached the small set of stairs leading toward the private area where the drivers could rest before the race, and before she even reached the door, she found herself smiling again.

She could already imagine him.

Probably lying there with his arms crossed, pretending he wasn't annoyed that she had taken longer than expected, while secretly being happy the moment she walked through the door.

Amelie shook her head softly to herself, amused by how predictable he could be sometimes.

The same person who could handle the pressure of millions of people watching him race at over three hundred kilometres per hour could also send her messages dramatically complaining because she had spent an extra hour having brunch with his family.

It was one of the things she loved most about him.

The contradiction.

The world saw Lando Norris the Formula One driver.

The person who stood on podiums, fought for championships, and carried the expectations of an entire team on his shoulders.

But she got Lando.

The one who complained when she stole his hoodie, the one who needed her to remind him where he left his phone, the one who acted personally offended if she took too long to reply to a message.

The one who was apparently feeling abandoned because his girlfriend had gone for coffee with his mother.

A smile tugged at her lips as she reached the door.

She knocked softly first, mostly out of habit.

There was no answer.

For a second she considered knocking again, but then remembered his message.

He was probably asleep.

Carefully, she placed her hand on the handle and pushed the door open slowly, making sure not to create any unnecessary noise.

The room was almost completely dark.

Only a small amount of light entered through the gap between the curtains, creating soft shadows across the quiet space. Compared to the chaos outside, the driver's room felt like a completely different world. No engineers. No cameras. No radios. No countdown clocks.

Just silence, and then she saw him.

Lando was lying on the small folding bed against the wall, his body stretched out comfortably beneath the thin blanket. He had clearly fallen asleep quickly because he was still wearing his team shorts and a simple McLaren shirt, his hair messy against the pillow and one arm resting loosely above his head.

The sight immediately softened her expression.

For someone who spent so much of his life surrounded by noise, pressure, and expectations, there was something strangely peaceful about seeing him like this. Completely unaware of everything happening outside those walls, finally allowing himself a few minutes where he wasn't thinking about lap times, strategy, weather conditions, or whether the car would be competitive enough.

Amelie quietly closed the door behind her, careful not to let the latch make more noise than necessary. She glanced down at the floor before moving further inside, already deciding that the heels she had chosen for brunch were not exactly ideal for sneaking into a driver's room without waking a sleeping Formula One driver.

Her brown handbag slipped easily from her shoulder, and she walked toward the small couch positioned near the corner of the room before placing it down gently. The last thing she wanted was for it to fall and create a loud sound that would immediately wake him up.

She looked back toward the bed one more time, watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing, before carefully reaching down to remove her heels.

The moment her feet touched the cold floor, she immediately appreciated the decision.

The room was silent enough that even the smallest sound seemed amplified, and the last thing she wanted was the familiar clicking of her shoes against the floor announcing her arrival before she was ready. Holding the heels carefully in one hand, she moved across the room barefoot, her steps almost completely silent.

Amelie reached the side of the small folding bed and paused for a moment.

She didn't want to wake him.

Not immediately, at least.

There was a small part of her that simply wanted to stand there and watch him sleep for a few seconds. It was rare seeing Lando this relaxed on a race weekend. Usually, even when he was resting, there was a certain tension in him. His mind was always somewhere else, already thinking about the next session, the next decision, the next thing that needed to be done.

But now?

He looked completely peaceful.

His eyelashes rested against his cheeks, his breathing slow and steady, and his entire body seemed to have finally accepted that he was allowed to stop for a little while.

Amelie smiled softly.

The same man who had complained dramatically about being abandoned twenty minutes earlier was now completely unconscious, proving that his need for a nap had clearly been very real.

She carefully lifted the edge of the blanket and moved slowly, trying not to disturb the mattress too much as she climbed onto the small bed beside him.

It wasn't exactly spacious.

The folding bed had clearly been designed for quick pre-race rests rather than two people trying to comfortably fit together, but somehow they had always managed. Maybe it was because neither of them cared about the lack of space when the alternative was being apart.

She settled beside him, lying carefully on her side and facing him.

The movement was barely noticeable.

At least, that was what Amelie thought.

But Lando had always been strangely aware of her presence, even when he was asleep. It was something she had noticed over the years, the way he seemed to instinctively recognize when she entered a room, when she moved closer, or when she was about to steal his blanket in the middle of the night.

So the second another body settled beside him, his eyebrows moved slightly.

For a few seconds, he remained caught somewhere between sleep and waking, his mind trying to understand the sudden change. Then instinct took over before his eyes even opened.

His arm moved automatically, reaching across the small space between them until his hand found her waist. The familiar contact seemed to reassure him before he was even fully awake, his fingers curling gently against the fabric of her dress as he pulled her slightly closer.

His eyes slowly opened a few seconds later, still heavy with sleep, and the first thing he registered was the warmth beside him.

Not the sound of the paddock outside.

Not the distant voices of mechanics preparing for the race.

Not the constant movement that usually surrounded him every Sunday afternoon.

Her.

Lando’s heavy eyelids fluttered open completely, blinking once, twice, as his sleep-fogged brain gradually processed her presence. The moment her face came into focus beneath the soft shadows of the dimly lit room, the lingering tension in his brow melted away, replaced by an expression of pure, unrestrained affection.

A quiet, raspy smile tugged at his lips.

—Hey...— he murmured softly, his voice thick with sleep.

Amelie’s smile softened even further, her heart doing a familiar little flip at the sound.

—Hey,— she replied in a gentle whisper, resting one hand against his upper arm.

Lando continued looking at her for a few seconds, almost as if his brain was still catching up with the fact that she was actually there. The annoyance he had dramatically expressed through his messages twenty minutes earlier had completely disappeared, replaced by the kind of calm happiness that only seemed to appear whenever Amelie managed to find her way into the small quiet spaces between his responsibilities.

His hand remained comfortably wrapped around her waist, his thumb moving slowly back and forth over the fabric of her dress in a lazy, absentminded motion. He looked exhausted, but not in the same way he had looked after qualifying the day before. This was different. This was the kind of tiredness that came after finally allowing himself to stop moving for a few minutes.

A small smile remained on his face as he moved a strand of hair away from her cheek, carefully brushing it back from where it had fallen loose from her low bun.

—How was it?— he asked softly, his voice still carrying the sleepy rasp of someone who had only just woken up.

Her expression softened as she settled more comfortably beside him, one hand resting against his chest.

—It was really nice,— she answered honestly.

Lando's eyes stayed on her face, listening carefully despite still looking like he could fall asleep again at any second.

Amelie smiled.

—We went to this really beautiful coffee shop near the centre. It was so cute, Lando. Like, the kind of place you would see in a movie and think someone designed specifically for Instagram.—

She laughed quietly at her own description, and Lando's lips curved into a small smile because he could already picture exactly what she meant. Amelie had always noticed the little details in places she visited, the things most people walked past without thinking about. A flower arrangement on a table, the way sunlight entered through a window, a handwritten menu, a tiny decoration that made a place feel special. It was one of the things he loved about traveling with her because she had a way of making ordinary moments feel memorable.

—Was it one of those places where you spent ten minutes taking pictures of your coffee before actually drinking it?— he teased softly, his voice still low from sleep.

Amelie immediately looked offended, even though the smile on her face completely betrayed her.

—Excuse me?— she whispered, lightly pushing his shoulder with the tips of her fingers. —I do not take ten minutes taking pictures of my coffee.—

Lando's smile widened instantly.

He knew that expression.

The one where she was pretending to be offended but was already fighting back a laugh.

—No?— he asked, raising his eyebrows slightly while keeping his arm wrapped around her waist. —Because I distinctly remember waiting almost fifteen minutes in Paris because you needed "the right lighting" for a pastry.—

Amelie opened her mouth, immediately preparing a defense, but then she stopped.

Because unfortunately, that had happened.

—That was different,— she argued, although the lack of confidence in her voice made him laugh softly.

Lando's quiet laugh filled the otherwise silent driver's room, the sound still softened by sleep as he leaned forward just enough to press a lingering kiss against the tip of her nose. His hand remained comfortably settled against her waist beneath the light blanket, absentmindedly tracing slow circles against the fabric of her orange dress while he watched her try—and fail—to defend herself.

—Of course it was,— he murmured with exaggerated seriousness. —I'm sure there was a very scientific explanation for why the croissant needed exactly fourteen photographs before it was allowed to be eaten.—

Amelie couldn't help laughing, the memory immediately returning to her.

She rolled her eyes dramatically before nudging him again, although the movement carried absolutely no force behind it.

—For your information, it was worth it,— she whispered with complete conviction, her smile growing wider. —And besides, today's coffee barely had time to exist before everyone started eating. Your cousins kept insisting I had to try absolutely everything on the menu.—

Lando's eyebrows lifted with genuine curiosity, the teasing momentarily forgotten as he looked at her.

—Everything?—

Amelie nodded enthusiastically.

—Almost. They ordered this huge table full of things because apparently I couldn't leave Belgium without trying "real Belgian breakfast." There were pastries, waffles, different cheeses, these tiny little biscuits that I don't remember the name of, and the hot chocolate..." She closed her eyes briefly, placing one hand dramatically over her heart. "I genuinely think I could survive on that hot chocolate alone.—

A soft laugh escaped Lando.

—Careful. If you say that too loudly around here, Mum will insist on taking you back tomorrow morning before your flight.—

—I wouldn't complain,— Amelie admitted honestly. —Everything was incredible. And everyone was so nice to me. Your aunt spent half the morning telling me stories about you when you were little.—

Lando immediately groaned.

His head fell backwards against the pillow as though she had just informed him that his engine had exploded five minutes before lights out.

Lando let out another dramatic groan, squeezing his eyes shut as though physically pained by the information before slowly dragging one hand over his face.

—Oh no...— he muttered into his palm. —What did she tell you?—

Amelie bit down on her lower lip, the unmistakable sparkle of mischief appearing in her eyes as she pretended to think very carefully about her answer.

—Well...— she began innocently, drawing out the word far longer than necessary. —Apparently there was an incident involving you, a football, your neighbour's greenhouse, and you insisting the ball had "accidentally developed wings."—

Lando covered his face with both hands.

—I was seven...—

—You also apparently cried because your mum wouldn't let you take your go-kart into the living room when it was raining outside.—

—I was eight...—

—And your cousin showed me a picture of you dressed as a pirate with what looked like an actual eyeliner moustache.—

Lando slowly lowered his hands just enough for one eye to peek out between his fingers.

—I refuse to believe she still has that photograph.—

Amelie smiled so brightly that he already knew the answer before she even spoke.

—Oh, she does.—

He sighed dramatically, letting his head fall back onto the pillow once again.

—Fantastic.—

She laughed softly, unable to help herself, before gently brushing a curl away from his forehead where it had fallen over his eyes.

—They all adore you, you know,— Lando murmured softly, his hand returning to her waist and pulling her just a fraction closer until there was literally no space left between them. —Not that I’m surprised. You have this ridiculous way of making everyone fall in love with you within five minutes.—

Amelie’s smile softened into something far more intimate, her fingers lazily tracing the collar of his McLaren shirt.

—I loved spending time with them,— she confessed, looking into his eyes. —And... I actually learned a few words while we were sitting at the table.—

Lando raised an eyebrow, a genuinely intrigued smile spreading across his face.

—Oh yeah?— he asked, shifting slightly on the narrow bed to face her better. —Go on then. Show off.—

Amelie immediately straightened with exaggerated confidence, as though she had spent years studying Dutch instead of less than two hours sitting in a café listening to Lando's family laugh whenever she attempted to repeat their pronunciation.

—Alright,— she announced quietly, trying very hard to look serious despite already fighting back a smile. —Don't laugh if my accent is terrible.—

Lando's grin widened immediately, the sleepy haze finally disappearing from his face as curiosity replaced it. He shifted slightly on the narrow folding bed until he was facing her completely, one elbow tucked beneath his head while his other arm remained comfortably around her waist. There was something endlessly entertaining about listening to Amelie try new languages because she always threw herself into it with complete confidence, regardless of whether the pronunciation was perfect or completely disastrous.

—I'm making absolutely no promises,— he replied with the smallest laugh, his eyes already sparkling with amusement. —But go on. Impress me.—

Amelie narrowed her eyes at him for a second before lifting one finger dramatically, already slipping into the same theatrical attitude she used whenever she was determined to prove a point.

—I learned "goedemorgen",— she announced carefully, pronouncing each syllable slower than she normally would. —Which means... good morning.—

Lando's eyebrows immediately lifted.

—That's actually really good,— he admitted, sounding genuinely impressed. —Your accent isn't even bad.—

Amelie smiled proudly, pleased enough with the unexpected compliment that she immediately continued before he had the chance to change his mind.

—I also learned "dank je wel".—

She looked at him expectantly.

—Thank you,— Lando translated with a smile. —Very useful. Mum probably taught you that one, didn't she?—

Amelie nodded.

—Your aunt corrected me five different times until I finally said it properly.—

Lando laughed softly because that sounded exactly like his aunt. She had always insisted that if someone was making the effort to learn, they deserved to be taught correctly.

Amelie smiled proudly at the memory before continuing her little demonstration, clearly enjoying herself far more than she had expected.

—Then I learned "alsjeblieft",— she said carefully, slowing the pronunciation as she remembered the way Lando's youngest cousin had patiently repeated it over and over until she managed to get the sounds almost right. —Which means... please.—

Lando couldn't help smiling.

—Very polite.—

—I know.— She lifted her chin dramatically. —I'm basically fluent now.—

He let out a quiet laugh, the sound still carrying the lingering softness of someone who had only woken up a few minutes earlier.

Lando shook his head, his thumb continuing its slow circles against her waist while he looked at her with the kind of fondness that always seemed impossible to hide.

—You're missing about... ninety-nine percent of the language,— he pointed out teasingly.

Amelie looked thoroughly unimpressed by his lack of confidence in her newfound linguistic abilities.

—Excuse me,— she whispered, lightly pushing his shoulder again. —I learned multiple words in one morning. That's impressive.—

Lando smiled, letting his head fall slightly back against the pillow while watching her with obvious amusement.

—It is impressive,— he admitted. —I'm just saying that knowing how to say please and thank you doesn't exactly qualify you as a Dutch speaker yet.—

Amelie narrowed her eyes at him.

—You are being very unsupportive of my international achievements.—

—I'm extremely supportive,— he argued immediately, although the smile on his face ruined any attempt at seriousness. —I'm just also realistic.—

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too.

The quiet teasing between them felt almost strange considering where they were. Outside that small room, an entire Formula One team was preparing for a Grand Prix. Engineers were finalizing strategies, mechanics were preparing cars, and thousands of fans were waiting for the moment the drivers would line up on the grid.

Amelie shifted slightly against his side, propping herself up on one elbow as she looked down at him with a soft, affectionate glint in her eyes.

—Well,— she murmured, her voice dropping into a quiet, secret whisper. —I did learn one more phrase...—

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked up at her, his hand resting warmly against the small of her back.

—Did you?— he asked softly, a amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. —Go on then. Let’s hear it.—

Amelie leaned down just a fraction closer, her hair falling softly over her shoulders as she looked straight into his eyes. She took a slow, quiet breath, carefully pronouncing the words she had rehearsed with his mother only an hour before.

—Ik hou van jou...—

The words hung in the quiet darkness of the room, sweet and tentative, spoken with such genuine softness that Lando’s breathing perceptibly hitched. The playful teasing instantly vanished from his face, replaced by an expression so overwhelmingly tender it made her chest tighten with affection.

A quiet, breathless laugh escaped him before he reached up, his fingers gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as his eyes searched hers.

—Ik hou ook van jou,— he replied in his native Dutch, his voice thick with an emotion that ran far deeper than the simple translation of I love you too.

He didn't pull away. Instead, he kept his hand cradling the side of her face, his thumb softly stroking her cheekbone while the quiet hum of the paddock faded into complete insignificance. Looking up at her in the dim light of his driver's room—with her bare feet, her natural hair, and the bright orange dress that made her glow—something inside Lando settled into absolute, unshakeable clarity.

With so much love shining in his eyes that it almost brought a lump to her throat, Lando softly added another phrase in fluent Dutch, his voice smooth and steady.

—Ik wil dat je met me trouwt...—

Amelie blinked, a small, puzzled smile forming on her lips as she tilted her head.

—Okay, now you're just showing off,— she teased softly, laughing under her breath as she stroked his chest. —You know I'm not fluent yet, Lando. What does that mean?—

Lando’s smile immediately changed.

Not because he had been caught, but because the innocence in Amelie’s expression made it almost impossible for him to keep a straight face. She was looking at him with complete curiosity, genuinely waiting for a translation, completely unaware that the sentence he had just said was the one thing he had spent the last few days imagining saying to her in a much more official way.

Lando looked at her for a few seconds longer, trying desperately to keep the playful expression on his face, but the warmth in his eyes completely betrayed him. There was something almost unfair about the fact that Amelie was sitting there, so close to him, asking so innocently about words that carried so much meaning.

He had imagined that moment a thousand different ways.

He had imagined saying it somewhere beautiful, somewhere planned, somewhere that looked like it belonged in a movie. He had imagined a perfect speech, the right timing, the right location, and every single detail carefully organized.

But instead, here he was.

In a dark driver's room before a Formula One race.

With Amelie lying beside him in an orange dress, her hair slightly messy from the morning, asking him what a sentence meant because she had decided to learn a few Dutch words over brunch.

And somehow, this felt more perfect than any plan he could have created.

Lando let out a small laugh, shaking his head as he looked away for a brief second, pretending to think about his answer.

—You know what?— he whispered, his voice teasing again. —I think I might let you figure that one out yourself.—

Amelie immediately narrowed her eyes.

She knew that tone.

That was the same tone he used whenever he was hiding something, whenever he had found a way to annoy her, or whenever he was far too pleased with himself.

—Lando Norris,— she warned softly, poking his chest with one finger. —That sounded suspiciously important.—

His smile widened.

—Did it?—

—Yes,— she replied instantly. —Very suspiciously important.—

He tried to look innocent, but the expression lasted approximately two seconds before he broke into a quiet laugh.

Amelie watched him carefully, studying his face.

She had known him long enough to recognize every little change in his expression. She knew when he was nervous, when he was excited, when he was trying not to laugh, and when he was hiding something behind that charming smile of his.

And right now?

He was definitely hiding something.

—What did you say?— she asked again, softer this time.

Lando looked back at her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The noise from outside continued, distant and muffled through the walls of the room. The entire world was moving around them, preparing for one of the biggest moments of the weekend, but inside that small space, time felt strangely paused.

He could have told her.

He could have translated the words.

He could have said it was nothing and made another joke.

But then he remembered something his mother had told him earlier that morning.

She doesn't need grand gestures to know how much you love her.

Lando looked up at Amelie, his eyes lingering on the tiny, inquisitive pucker between her brows before a wicked little smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

—It means... "Amelie is a giant dork who falls for fake Dutch,"— he said smoothly, making up a total lie on the spot without breaking eye contact.

Amelie’s eyes widened in instant, outraged disbelief.

—You are such a liar!— she gasped softly, leaning forward to give his shoulder a firm, annoyed push that barely managed to budge him on the narrow mattress.

Lando just burst out laughing, the deep, rumbling sound vibrating straight against her chest as he instantly wrapped both arms around her waist, using her momentum to pull her completely down against his body so she couldn't escape. Amelie let out a quiet, surprised squeal as her face landed inches from his, but before she could formulate another exasperated insult, Lando leaned up and captured her lips in a deep, lingering kiss that completely extinguished all her protests, turning her annoyance into a warm, breathless surrender as her fingers tangled into his damp curls.

The kiss deepened into something slow and dizzying, completely making them forget that a multi-million-dollar race was about to start in less than an hour, until the sudden, sharp sound of a heavy knock echoed through the quiet room, followed immediately by the door swinging wide open.

—Lando, mate, you’ve got ten minutes to...— Jon blurted out, stepping inside before his brain fully registered the scene on the folding bed, causing the trainer to instantly clamp his hands dramatically over his eyes while spinning around on his heel to face the wall. —Jesus Christ! Amelie, hi, great to see you, but Lando, get your suit on right now because we have to be at the garage in five!—

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

liked by lan4ever, f1updates, and others

lanmeliehub: Amelie spotted watching the Belgian GP from the McLaren garage during the race broadcast.

View all 692 comments

papayagirl: THE FACE SHE MADE WHEN THE PIT STOP HAPPENED 😭😭😭 → lan4ever: she was feeling what all of us were feeling → orange4ever: the entire fanbase had the same expression

gridgirlie: AMELIE LOOKED LIKE SHE WAS ABOUT TO JOIN THE STRATEGY MEETING 😭 → papayahq: someone give her a headset

f1updates: the broadcast cutting to her reaction was FOUL 😭 → orangeobsession: they knew exactly what they were doing → papayaprincess: instant meme material

lanmeliehub: SHE WENT FROM SUPPORTIVE GIRLFRIEND TO TEAM PRINCIPAL IN 0.2 SECONDS 😭 → gridgirlie: the papaya rage was strong → orangegrid: honorary McLaren employee

papayahq: Lando was finally in a good position and then THAT pit stop happened 😭 → lan4ever: the heartbreak was visible

f1gossipdaily: Amelie representing every McLaren fan in the garage today 😂 → papayagirl: she didn't even try to hide it → gridgirlie: same girl same

orangeobsession: the crossed arms??? THE STARE??? 😭 → amesdefender: she was analyzing everything

f1detectives: new conspiracy theory: Amelie knows strategy better than us

papayaprincess: imagine being the engineer who has to explain that pit stop while Amelie is standing there 😭 → orangegrid: i'd simply disappear → gridgirlie: no eye contact

mclarenfan: she was all of us today 💔🧡 → papayagirl: the disappointment was universal

f1fangirl99: not the broadcast finding the ONE person who looked more upset than Lando 😭 → orange4ever: girlfriend suffering is real → gridgirlie: she wanted that result for him

lan4life: the way she was cheering before and then immediately got serious 🥹 → orangeobsession: she knows how much it means to him

papayagirl: "she looks mad" no because she looked PISSED 😭 → gridgirlie: respectfully yes → orangegrid: the silent anger was loud

f1updates: everyone in the garage watching the same disaster unfold 😭 → lanmeliehub: collective pain

orange4ever: Amelie really said "I crossed an ocean for THIS?" 😭 → papayaprincess: PLEASE 💀 → lan4ever: don't make her laugh she's angry

amesnation: you can tell she wasn't mad because he was losing, she was mad because he deserved better 🥹 → amesdefender: exactly

papayagirl: LANDO AND AMELIE BOTH HAVING THE SAME POST-PIT STOP FACE 😭 → lan4ever: soulmates unfortunately → orangeobsession: matching frustration

gridgirlie: the broadcast producers saw her reaction and said "yes, zoom in" 😭 → f1updates: they understood the assignment → papayahq: biggest fan account moment

lanmeliehub: someone check if Amelie has a McLaren contract because that passion is REAL 🧡 → orange4ever: unpaid strategist

papayagirl: THE CAMERA REALLY SAID "LET'S SEE WHAT AMELIE THINKS ABOUT THAT" 😭😭😭 → orange4ever: they knew the fandom would react → gridgirlie: broadcast director understood the assignment

f1fanatic: her expression changed the exact second the pit stop went wrong 💀 → lan4ever: the heartbreak was immediate

orangegrid: not Amelie looking like she was about to walk into the strategy room herself 😭 → gridgirlie: "move, i have a plan" → papayaprincess: someone give her the headset

mclarenfamily: the entire McLaren garage had the same face today 🧡😭 → papayagirl: pain shared collectively

f1updates: Amelie watching Lando lose all that progress after such a strong stint was painful 😭 → orangeobsession: you could tell she was frustrated for him → lan4ever: not because he was losing, because the opportunity disappeared

papayahq: she traveled from Vancouver to Spa and THIS is what she had to watch 😭

f1gossipdaily: Amelie in the garage looking like she personally approved the strategy before being disappointed 😂 → papayaprincess: honorary team member → orangegrid: unpaid strategist era

lanmeliehub: the funniest thing is she wasn't even trying to hide her reaction 😭 → papayagirl: because she was too invested

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

The hotel room felt completely different compared to the chaos outside.

Only a few hours earlier, Lando had been surrounded by thousands of people, cameras, microphones, engineers, and the endless questions that always followed a race. Now, the only sounds filling the room were the quiet movement of clothes being folded, the soft closing of suitcase zippers, and the distant noise of the city outside the window.

Lando stood near the open suitcase placed on top of the bed, staring down at the pile of clothes in front of him with an expression that was far more tired than angry at this point.

The frustration had not disappeared.

It was still there.

It sat heavily in his chest, the same way it had since he crossed the finish line and realized that the result he had fought so hard for was not going to be the one he deserved. Seventh place was not a disaster. He knew that. Any Formula One driver would understand that finishing seventh after starting thirteenth and fighting through the entire field was still a strong recovery.

But that was exactly what made it hurt more.

Because he knew what could have been.

He had felt the car underneath him all weekend. He had known from Friday that the pace was there, that the McLaren was capable of fighting at the front, that qualifying third wasn't some lucky result or something that had simply fallen into his hands. He had earned that position. He had put everything together when it mattered, only for the grid penalty to erase the work of an entire weekend before the race had even started.

Starting thirteenth had already meant the afternoon was going to be a fight.

And he loved fights.

He loved recovering positions. He loved finding opportunities where other people didn't see them. He loved proving that he could drag a car through a field and make things happen when the circumstances were against him.

But there was a difference between fighting because you had something to prove and fighting because you had been forced into a situation you never should have been in.

Because the truth was, Lando didn't feel like he had lost because he wasn't good enough.

That was the part that frustrated him the most.

He had done everything he could.

He had climbed from thirteenth to the front. He had taken risks when he needed to, stayed patient when the opportunities weren't there, and found himself leading the race at a point where most people probably hadn't expected him to even be fighting for the podium.

The problem was that Formula One was never only about the driver.

Lando knew that better than anyone.

A race could be decided by a thousand tiny things. A few seconds on a pit stop. A strategy call made at the wrong moment. A set of tyres that didn't behave the way everyone expected. A decision made from a pit wall hundreds of kilometres away from where the driver was sitting inside a car travelling at impossible speeds.

The problem was that today, all those tiny things had added up against him.

He could still remember sitting in the car after crossing the finish line, the helmet still on, the radio messages coming through, the disappointment settling in before he had even stepped out. He had tried to keep his voice controlled because he knew the team was listening, because he knew there were hundreds of people who had worked just as hard as he had, but there was a limit to how much frustration he could hide.

He wasn't angry at one person.

That was the complicated part.

He wasn't someone who looked for someone to blame immediately. He knew racing was a team sport. He knew everyone on that pit wall wanted the same thing he did. Nobody woke up on Sunday morning hoping to make the wrong call or lose a podium opportunity.

But understanding something didn't mean it didn't hurt.

And right now, alone in the hotel room, away from the cameras and the expectations, he finally allowed himself to admit just how badly it had affected him.

Lando dropped another folded shirt into the suitcase, perhaps with a little more force than necessary, before closing his eyes for a moment and letting out a slow breath.

For the first time since the race ended, there was nobody around him expecting a certain reaction.

No cameras waiting to see whether he looked disappointed.

No journalists trying to turn every word into a headline.

No microphones placed in front of him asking if he thought the strategy call was the reason he lost the podium.

No need to carefully choose his answers because everything he said could be analyzed within seconds by thousands of people online.

It was just him and that almost made it worse.

Because when he was surrounded by people, when he was still in the paddock, when he was shaking hands and answering questions and moving from one commitment to the next, he could force himself into that professional mindset. He could remind himself that there were still positives. That he had recovered. That he had shown pace. That seventh place from thirteenth was not something to be ashamed of.

But alone in the hotel room?

Alone with his suitcase half-packed and the silence that followed the adrenaline of the race?

All he could think about was the podium that had been right there.

The one he had almost touched.

Lando leaned against the edge of the bed for a moment, staring at the open suitcase without actually seeing it. His mind kept replaying the same moments over and over again.

The slow pit stop that had felt like an eternity while sitting inside the cockpit, watching precious seconds slip away while cars passed him on the pit straight. The strategy decision that had made perfect sense on paper but had completely ruined their momentum the moment the track began changing. The constant feeling of fighting against things that were completely outside his control.

He genuinely just wanted to punch something hard enough to break the quiet, or shout until his throat burned.

Instead, he took a deep, forced breath, running both hands over his face before slowly lowering them back to his sides. The anger was exhausting, but what made the weight in his chest feel ten times heavier was knowing that these were his very last moments with Amelie before they had to part ways again for their stupid, relentless schedules. She had to head back to set, he had to keep moving, and the ocean was about to settle right back between them.

When he had first seen her waiting for him outside the motorhome after the race, she had looked just as furious as he felt—if not more so, her small hands clenched into tight fists and her brows furrowed in pure, protective rage on his behalf. It had almost made him laugh despite his dark mood, seeing how fiercely she took on his pain, but he had quickly forced himself to soften, gently kissing her forehead and reassuring her that he was fine just so she wouldn't spend the rest of the evening worrying about him. He had gently convinced her to go downstairs to the hotel café to sit with his family, offering to let her relax while he quickly packed up his belongings in the bedroom so they could finally head to the airport.

The plan was for them to share their private jet back alongside Lily and Alex, which was the absolute least Lando felt he could do to thank them for coming to Amelie's rescue earlier that morning and making her surprise visit possible.

Lando reached down to pick up a folded sweatshirt from the armchair, aggressively stuffing it into the corner of his open Longchamp travel bag on the bed, his knuckles turning white against the fabric. The silence of the room was suddenly broken by the low, digital beep of the electronic lock at the front door, followed by the soft click of the handle being turned.

A moment later, light, barefoot steps padded softly across the wooden floor of the common area, and Lando didn't even need to look up to know exactly who it was.

The bedroom door creaked open just a fraction wider, and Amelie’s head peeked quietly inside the dimly lit room, her soft blonde hair slightly tousled and her warm eyes instantly searching his face with careful tenderness.

—Hey...— she murmured softly, her voice carrying a sweet, delicate quietness that immediately cut straight through the harsh noise lingering inside his head.

Lando kept his back turned to her for a brief second, pretending to be deeply occupied with zipping up the side compartment of his bag, but he couldn't hide the heavy, exhausted slump of his broad shoulders.

—Hey,— he replied quietly, his voice slightly raspy as he reached for another shirt on the mattress.

Amelie stepped fully into the room, gently letting the door close behind her before walking slowly toward where he stood beside the large bed. She was still wearing her bright orange dress, though she had slipped out of her matching heels, her bare feet making virtually no sound against the carpeted floor. Without saying a single word, she moved directly up behind him, stepping close enough that he could feel the subtle warmth radiating from her body, and slowly placed both of her soft palms against his lower back.

Lando instantly froze at her touch, a long, involuntary sigh escaping his chest as her hands began moving in slow, soothing motions up and down the fabric of his plain white t-shirt, right over the tense muscles of his back and shoulders.

The touch grounded him instantly, breaking through the tight coil of frustration that had been holding his muscles rigid for the last three hours.

Amelie pressed her forehead gently between his shoulder blades for a second, feeling the heavy rise and fall of his breath before her hands slid slowly up toward his neck, her thumbs lightly massaging the tight tendons at the base of his head. She knew him too well to be fooled by the calm, reassuring face he’d put on in the paddock. She knew the exact shape his disappointment took when he was trying to protect everyone else from his own anger, and she knew that beneath the quiet, controlled exterior, he was still privately replaying every single second of that bloody race.

—Are you alright, Lan?— she asked softly, her voice barely more than a breath against his back, filled with a gentle, non-judgmental warmth that made him want to completely collapse into her.

Lando slowly stopped fidgeting with his travel bag, letting his hands drop to his sides before turning around inside the circle of her touch.

The moment he looked down at her, the last lingering trace of the stoic Formula One driver vanished entirely. His eyes were dark with exhaustion, carrying that familiar, quiet vulnerability he only ever allowed her to see. He looked at her warm, expressive face, taking in the soft worry in her eyes and the gentle way her hands naturally shifted to rest over his chest, and he knew there was no point pretending anymore.

Instead of answering aloud, he simply offered her a faint, soft nod, leaning down slowly to press his lips against hers in a long, quiet kiss.

The kiss wasn't urgent or possessive. It was slow, tender, and deeply comforting, born from a desperate need to feel something entirely unbothered by lap times, pit stops, or grid penalties. Amelie immediately melted against him, her arms sliding around his neck while her fingers tangled into the damp curls at the back of his head, gently pulling him closer until there was no space left between them. Lando let out another quiet, shuddering breath against her mouth, his hands coming up to wrap securely around her waist, holding her as if she were the only stable thing left in his world.

When he finally pulled back just a fraction, his forehead rested against hers, their shared breaths warm in the quiet hotel room.

—I am now,— he murmured raspy against her lips, his fingers tightening slightly against the fabric of her dress.

Without breaking the closeness, Lando carefully took a step backward and sat down on the edge of the mattress, pulling her along with him until she was seamlessly settled on top of his lap. Amelie adjusted herself without hesitation, straddling his thighs and bringing her hands back to frame his jawline, her thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones while she looked down at him with an affection so pure it made his throat feel tight.

Lando looked up into her eyes for a brief second before pulling her down into another kiss, deeper this time, his hands sliding up her back to hold her firmly against him while she surrendered completely to the rhythm, letting him lose himself in her for as long as they had left.

The shift in the room was instantaneous, the quiet tenderness of the moment giving way to a sudden, electric heat that had been building beneath the surface all weekend.

Lando’s hands tightened against her hips, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of her orange dress as the kiss grew deeper, hungrier, filled with a sharp, desperate need that made both of their breaths catch in their throats. All the lingering frustration from the race, the exhaustion from the constant travel, and the impending dread of another long separation seemed to burn away, replaced entirely by the immediate, overwhelming reality of her in his arms.

Amelie let out a quiet, breathy gasp against his lips, her hands sliding down from his neck to push firmly against his chest, her hips instinctively shifting and rolling against his lap in a rhythm that sent a sudden, agonizing jolt of heat straight to his core.

Lando groaned heavily into her mouth, a low, guttural sound that vibrated deep in his chest. His hands abandoned her waist, sliding up her back with a sudden urgency, his thumbs catching the thin fabric of her dress. With one swift, smooth movement, he pulled one of the delicate straps down her shoulder, taking the bright orange material with it and exposing her soft, bare breast to the cool air of the room. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath, and as the fabric fell away, Lando’s hand immediately moved to cup her warm skin, his fingers molding over her with a possessive, reverent weight. His thumb brushed lazily over her hardening nipple, making Amelie arch her back with a sharp, shuddering breath.

His mouth left her lips, trailing a line of feverish, wet kisses down her jawline, over the sensitive column of her neck, and straight toward the top of her collarbone. Amelie threw her head back, her fingers tangling tightly into his damp curls, anchoring him to her as she continued to shift and rub against him in undeniable need, the contrast between his dark dress trousers and her warm skin making her feel entirely consumed by him.

—Lando...— she whimpered softly, her voice barely a breathy whisper against the quiet hum of the room. She paused her movements just enough to frame his face, forcing him to look up at her through dark, heavy-lidded eyes. —Do we... do we even have time?—

Lando breathed heavily, his heart hammering against his ribs as he forced his brain to process her question. Without letting go of her waist, he tilted his head slightly to the side, peering past her blonde shoulder to glance at the digital clock glowing quietly on the nightstand beside the bed.

The bright numbers stared back at him, giving them a generous buffer before they needed to meet Alex, Lily, and his family in the lobby before they head toward the airfield.

A slow, dark, unbelievably confident smirk spread across Lando's face. He turned back to Amelie, his eyes burning with a sudden, renewed intensity as his hand gave her hip a firm, possessive squeeze.

—We have plenty of time,— he whispered huskily against her lips, before pulling her down and consuming her mouth once again.

Amelie didn't waste another second. Her hands slid beneath the hem of his plain white t-shirt, her warm palms scraping over the smooth skin of his stomach and up his chest, urgently tugging the fabric upward. Lando broke the kiss just long enough to lift his arms over his head, letting her yank the shirt off and toss it blindly onto the floor, exposing his defined chest and shoulders to the warm light of the room.

The sight of him bare-chested made Amelie’s breath catch, but the sudden, desperate friction of their bodies meeting skin-to-skin drove her completely wild.

Lando’s hands immediately rushed beneath the hem of her bright orange dress, sliding past her knees and up her soft, bare thighs until his warm fingers hooked under the delicate elastic of her lace panties. He groaned into her mouth as he felt the overwhelming, slick warmth waiting for him there, his thumb immediately tracing over her sensitive center through the damp fabric. Amelie gasped sharply, her back arching once again as her hips instinctively pressed into his touch, seeking more of the agonizing pressure.

Without breaking his rhythmic, deliberate touch below, Lando lowered his head, his lips trailing down her throat, past her collarbone, and taking her exposed, hardened nipple directly into his warm mouth. Amelie whimpered loudly, her head falling back as he suckled gently, his tongue flicking over her sensitive skin while his hand slid inside her panties, slipping his fingers directly into her wetness.

—God, you’re so wet for me, sweetheart,— Lando growled against her skin, his thumb working a steady, torturous pattern that made her toes curl. —Such a good girl... always so ready for me.—

The quiet praise sent a shudder of pure pleasure straight down her spine, making her wrap her legs tighter around his waist.

Between deep, breathless kisses that tasted like pure heat, Lando suddenly paused, his fingers still teasing her wet warmth as a sudden realization hit his sleep-and-pleasure-fogged brain. He pulled back just a fraction, his heavy, dark eyes meeting hers with a flash of genuine frustration.

—Wait... fuck, Amelie,— he panted heavily, his forehead resting against hers while his hands stayed locked on her body. —I don't... I don't have any condoms here.—

Amelie looked down at him through hooded, heavy-lidded eyes, a slow, incredibly devious smile spreading across her flush face.

—It's okay, baby...— she whispered softly, her voice dripping with sweet, innocent mischief.

Without stopping the rhythmic, agonizing swell of her hips rubbing against his thigh, Amelie stretched one arm blindly toward the armchair behind them where her brown handbag was resting. Her fingers searched through the leather pocket for a brief second before pulling out a full, shiny foil strip of condoms.

She held the strip right between their faces, her innocent smile widening as she dangled it in front of his dark, astonished eyes.

Lando stared at the foil strip dangling between them, his heavy, dark eyes blinking once, twice, before a slow, disbelief-filled laugh rumbled deep in his chest. His thumb paused its torturous rhythm against her wet center just long enough for him to raise an eyebrow at her, his lips twitching into a wicked, teasing smirk.

—Unbelievable,— Lando muttered huskily, shaking his head as his hand tightened possessively around her bare hip. —Is that all I am to you? Just a driver you use for sex whenever you fly across the Atlantic?—

Amelie’s innocent smile instantly vanished into a dramatic, utterly unamused pout.

—Excuse me?— she said with sharp, mock seriousness, her eyebrows knitting together as she immediately made a move to snatch the strip of condoms back and shove them out of sight. She began wiggling her hips backward, aggressively pulling the hem of her orange dress back down over her thighs. —If you’re going to be an ungrateful idiot about it, then never mind. We can just sit here and talk about your strategy calls instead.—

—Hey, hey, hey— Lando blurted out instantly, his teasing tone completely disappearing into pure panic as he lunged forward.

Before she could even slide off his lap, his strong hands clamped around her waist, yanking her flush against his chest so hard that all the air rushed out of her lungs. He snatched the strip of condoms directly out of her fingers, tossing it onto the mattress behind her, and wrapped his arms around her to pin her down beneath him.

—Don't you dare move,— Lando growled against her lips, his dark eyes burning with fierce, unyielding heat as he captured her mouth in a heavy, possessive kiss that thoroughly silenced her complaints. His hands slid straight back under her dress, effortlessly pulling her lace panties down her legs until she was completely bare for him. —You're not going anywhere, sweetheart. You prepared so nicely for me... now let me show you how much I appreciate it.—

The friction of their lips meeting again lit an immediate, unspoken permission between them. Amelie’s hands slid straight down the smooth, tense muscles of Lando’s stomach, her nails lightly grazing his skin before her fingers found the metal zipper of his dress trousers. She undid the clasp with practiced ease, her fingers slipping inside to pull his heavy, aching length free into the cool air of the room.

A quiet, triumphant smile curve against Lando’s lips as she took him into her soft palm. He was completely, agonizingly hard for her, his breath hitching the second her warm fingers wrapped around his shaft. Amelie began a slow, deliberate stroke up and down his length, her thumb gently sweeping over the wet tip before sweeping back down to his base.

Lando let out a low, ragged sigh, his head falling forward until his brow rested against the soft skin of her shoulder.

—Fuck, sweetheart...— he panted into her neck, his hands tightening on her hips as her strokes grew steadier, firmer. —You feel so good... so perfect. You’re doing such a good job for me.—

Amelie’s smile widened at the raspy praise, her heart hammering against her ribs as she continued to stroke him with a rhythmic, agonizingly slow pressure, feeling the heavy pulse beneath her palm and the slight tremor running through his entire body. Every low, breathless whisper from him seemed to vibrate straight down her spine, making her feel completely intoxicated by the control she had over him in this quiet, hidden space.

Lando squeezed his eyes shut, his chest heaving as he let her drive him near the edge for a few intoxicating seconds, before he suddenly reached down, his broad hand covering hers to gently still her movement.

—Alright... wait,— he groaned huskily against her throat, his voice thick with a desperate, heavy need as he lifted his head to look up at her through dark, blown-out pupils. —If you keep doing that, I'm not going to last two minutes, and I desperately need to feel you around me right now.—

Amelie let out a quiet, breathless laugh, her cheeks flushed as she willingly allowed him to guide her hand away from his length.

Lando reached back on the mattress, ripping open one of the foil wrappers with his teeth before swiftly rolling the condom over his rigid shaft. Without losing a single second, he grabbed the edges of her orange dress, gathering the fabric higher around her waist, and gently hooked his fingers into her lace panties to slide them completely out of the way. He assisted her in shifting her position on his lap, aligning her hips directly above him until the hot, slick tip of his length rested against her agonizingly wet entrance.

Amelie gasped softly as Lando held her firmly by the hips, his hands sinking into her soft skin to anchor her steady before he slowly, deliberately lifted her just enough to slide up inside her in one long, breathtaking motion.

A low, choked gasp escaped Amelie’s throat the second he filled her, the sensation of him stretching her so completely making her toes curl against the mattress. The sheer intensity of having him inside her after all the distance, after the tense and exhausting weekend, overwhelmed her senses so instantly that she buried her face deep into the crook of his neck, her hands clinging tightly to his bare, tense shoulders.

Lando groaned softly into her hair, a long, trembling breath rushing past his lips as he felt every tight, warm inch of her clenching around him.

—God, sweetheart... look at you,— Lando rasped against her collarbone, his voice thick with sheer awe as his broad hands gripped her waist firmly. —You take me so well, Amelie. Always taking every single bit of me like such a good girl.—

The quiet, feverish praise vibrated straight against her skin, sending a delicious surge of heat straight to her core. Amelie let out a soft, shuddering whimpered gasp into his neck, her fingers digging deeper into his back as she began to adjust to his stretch.

Lando didn't wait long. His large hands locked onto her hips, establishing a firm, steady rhythm as he began lifting her up slightly only to guide her straight back down onto him, taking him deeper with every single downward stroke. The friction was agonizingly good, the contrast between her bare skin and his dark dress trousers making the sensation feel almost impossibly intense.

—That’s it, beautiful... just like that,— Lando panted heavily into her ear, his thumb tracing a comforting circle over her hipbone while his hands dictated the pace, driving her down until their bodies met with a soft, slapping sound. —You feel so tight around me, sweetheart. Absolutely perfect for me, aren't you?—

Amelie lifted her head slightly, her flushed face and dark, hooded eyes meeting his as she began moving her own hips in sync with his hands, rolling over his length with an eager, desperate need that made Lando curse softly under his breath.

—Yes... Lando, please— she gasped out, her head falling back as he thrust upward from below to meet her downward movement, hitting that exact, agonizing spot deep inside her.

—I’ve got you, baby. You’re doing so good for me,— Lando growled softly, bringing one hand up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her mouth down to meet his in a messy, wet, utterly possessive kiss while his other hand kept up the steady, relentless pace from below.

The steady, rhythmic heat in the room spiraled completely out of control, every thrust from below and every downward roll of her hips driving them both closer to the edge. Lando’s hand stayed firmly planted at the small of her back, pressing her down as deep as she could go, while his other hand cupped her warm face, his thumb gently stroking her flushed cheekbone.

—Lando... I'm so close,— Amelie whimpered breathlessly against his lips, her body trembling as the tight coil in her stomach pulled impossibly taut. —Please...—

Lando let out a low, ragged growl, his dark eyes fixed on hers with intense, undivided devotion.

—Come for me, sweetheart. Show me how good it feels,— he rasped, his hips snapping up to hit that exact, agonizing spot with relentless precision. —You’ve been so good for me all afternoon. Come on, baby... take it all.—

The steady stream of sweet praise was the final trigger she needed. Amelie let out a sharp, high gasped cry, her inner muscles clamping down fiercely around his length in a intense wave of pleasure that completely wrecked her. Hearing her sweet voice break and feeling her tight warmth shatter around him pushed Lando directly over his own edge; he squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face into the sensitive crook of her neck, and groaned heavily as he came with a long, powerful sequence of thrusts.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was the harsh, heavy sound of their shared breathing. Lando held her tightly against his bare chest, his strong arms wrapped around her small frame as if he never intended to let her go. He pressed a series of soft, lingering kisses along her damp jawline, down her neck, and over her shoulder.

—Thank you, sweetheart...— Lando whispered softly, his voice rough and incredibly tender against her ear as he smoothed down her hair. —Seriously... thank you so much for coming this weekend. I know how insane your schedule is, and how hard it was to arrange everything with Alex and Lily... but having you here saved me today. I really needed you.—

Amelie melted completely into his chest, a soft, loving smile tugging at her lips as she leaned back just enough to look into his dark, affectionate eyes. She gently poked his chest with one finger.

—You're welcome, Lan,— she murmured sweetly, before her eyes narrowed with a playful, mischievous sharpness. —But don't get used to it, okay? Definitely don't expect me to magically show up in Hungary next weekend. I actually have a job to do back on set.—

Lando’s lips twitched, a familiar, boyish smirk immediately breaking across his face despite his lingering exhaustion. He tilted his head with a look of pure, innocent confusion.

—Did I not mention to you that I actually have a long-lost cousin from Hungary? So technically... it’s basically another home race for me, Amelie. You kind of have to be there to support the family.—

Amelie stared at him for a second before dramatically rolling her eyes, letting out a loud, breathless laugh as she slapped his bare shoulder.

cherryn omg 😭 when did she get the picture of me lan 🤨

lando when you were busy horselaughing at me over soup

cherryn but why would you post ittttttttt 😭😭😭

cherryn my poor hot girl image 😔

lando at least its not as bad as mine babe 😒😒 you still look pretty in yours...

lando plus athena said "auntie ynnie looks good here!" so i knew it had to be posted 🙂‍↕️

cherryn flattery only gets you so far

lando whatever 🙄🙄

user how does yn still look so good from that angle????

user ❤️❤️❤️❤️

📅 july 13, 2026

cherryn just updated their story ! caption: sparkle sparkle✨✨✨

📅 july 14, 2026

♫ Hearts2Hearts · RUDE!

cherryn 🌳🌿🪶🥂🧁

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lando 🤍🤍🤍

ciscanorris1 thank you planning all of this 💕

cherryn only the best for my cisca 🥰

savnorris the girls had so much fun with you this weekend 💞 their favorite auntie ynnie

cherryn my girllllsssss 🥺🥺🥺 tell them i love them so much

user yn doing one of lando's nieces nails is so adorable and very auntie of her

user the song choiceeeeeeee

user omg do lando's nieces like k-pop too 🤭🤭

cherryn they like k-pop demon hunters more, but this is one of their favorite songs rn ☺️☺️☺️

user photos are so peaceful and beautiful – hope you all were able to enjoy cisca's birthday!!

user our pretty ynnie!! we love you 💕

📅 july 15, 2026

landoyn4updates lando and y/n spotted back in monaco today going out to lunch and driving around in his mclaren p1.

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user everyone say thank you yn and twojeys for styling him

user wearing long sleeves to hide the sunburn lol

user still don't understand why people feel the need to harass and record them when they are just trying to enjoy themselves

user frfrfr this is exactly why lando doesn't let yn interact with fans anymore...

user at this rate lando is going to make them go under the radar by the time summer break comes 😫

user honestly don't blame them if they do...

user oh yn's outfit is so CUTE

user my parentssss ❤️

user why is no one talking about how that one guy recording lando wouldn't move to let yn into the car 😭😭

user i noticed that too!! lando looked like he was about to round the car right before the guy finally moved

user lando threw that guy the coldest glare ever

user yn honestly should have opened the door on that guy – he would have moved when getting smacked with the car door then i bet lol

user ^^^ yn really needs to be meaner to these weirdos, none of her fans would be mad

clip #1 — the way he’s sat 😩 yn you so lucky girl

the clip starts with showing off lando's sleek mclaren p1 as it seemingly glides down the street. inside the car, you and lando spotted with lando's knee prominently bent and one of his hands casually resting high on your thigh.

you are caught with your phone in hand as you are facing lando – assumably saying something to the british driver.

the mclaren continues to driver past the camera and down the street before the clip suddenly cuts.

💬 comments :

👤 : HIS KNEE PROPPED UPPPPPPPP PLS SIR 😫😫😫

👤 : dick so big he's gotta manspread even in the car 🥴

👤 : oh yn... you truly are the luckiest girl in the world. fashionable, devoted boyfriend, rich lifestyle, traveling the world every week. god has his favorites 🥹🥹🥹

👤 : IS HE JUST DRIVING WITH HIS KNEE??? SOMEONE SEDATE ME FOR REAL RN

📅 july 16, 2026

♫ fromis_9 · Supersonic

cherryn ˆ꜆. ̫.꜀ˆ

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lando hope you saved some of that food for me 🥹

cherryn ofc babe 🤗 waffles are waiting for you at the hotel

valentinexx making belgium x10 hotter 🥵 liked by author

lilymhe all that good looking food was just to prepare us for the main course aka last slide 🥰

cherryn stopppppppppp (don't stop keep going)

blytheyn ahhhh i'm so excited to see you 🩵

cherryn for real its been too long babes – kimi's been hiding you from me frfr 😤

blytheyn 😢 i'm sorry i've been busy doing an internship with my mom but i finally got a break 🫶 finally going to get to spend the summer with kimi ☺️☺️ (i think he's excited)

cherryn sounds amazing 🤩 me and lando are going on vacation as well!!!

user MOMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY WE LOVE YOU

user can't go to belgium without enjoying the food

user amen 🙏

📅 july 17, 2026

clip #2 – lando spotted kissing his girlfriend inside mclaren hospitality

the camera is seemingly taken from far away as it slowly zooms in on you and lando sitting on a low couch together. the world champion's arm is draped around your shoulders and pulling you close to his chest. a wide smile on your face as you look up at your lover before he's leaning down and pressing a slow kiss to your lips.

when you pull away lando is caught trying to follow after your lips which makes you let out a small giggle as you are pressing your palm against his chest. he then opts to kiss your cheek and down to your neck as you pull your phone out, saying something the camera doesn't pick up. the familiar fluro and black blob pattern standing out against your phone case as lando is moving his head to look at your phone with you.

lando is seen saying something – the clip just faintly catching the audio of him saying, "buy whatever you want, princess." he other hand then coming to rest on your waist before you're locking your phone and letting it fall into your lap. you and lando turn to look at each other at the same time – both of you smiling before you're leaning in to kiss him again.

the camera zooms on you both right as your hand runs through his curls before cutting.

💬 comments :

👤 : SHE'S WEARING HIS BOMBER JACKET 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

👤 : bro who the hell is recording them inside hospitality?? have some respect for the driver and his partner 🙄🙄🙄

👤 : GUYS– she has an ln1 phone case STOPPPPPPP

👤 : oh they are so fucking hot i can't STAND it 😤

♫ Ariana Grande · love language

cherryn 🇧🇪 🧇 🍫

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lando slide 6 & 7 are my favorites ❤️

cherryn 🤭🤭🤭

ari.archive sooooooo hot liked by author

lnfour lookin' good 🔥 liked by author

oscarpiastri didn't know i was traveling around you

cherryn oh so its okay when YOU make corny jokes but not me 🤨

oscarpiastri yep

cherryn i'm telling your mom nicolepiastri

user HELPPP NOT YN TELLING ON OSCAR LOL

withmia GIRL where the chocolates good??

cherryn don't know cause lando ate them all 😒

withmia ugh men...

user third slide is an oscar cameo

user not even that pretty come onnnn 🥱

user then why you commenting and following her then???

user THE WAFFLE VAN IS SO ICONIC

user yn remembering the existence of emojis is so funny lol

📅 july 18, 2026

clip #3 – yn and bambi spotted at the paddock together 😍

you are seen casually walking through the paddock by yourself. your long dress swishing as you walk and your vivienne westwood purse hanging from your shoulder.

the camera zooms in a little bit more on you as you pass by, your lando keychains hanging off your purse are caught on camera.

however, what's interesting about this clip is that you aren't walking towards the mclaren hospitality building. that's in the complete opposite direction. instead you are seen nearing the mercedes building instead. the camera moves in order to catch a better look at you as it also catches sight of another familiar figure.

you are immediately caught smiling, reaching out to hug bambi as the younger girl bouncing in excitement at seeing you. the two of you talk with bright smiles before bambi is leading you into the mercedes hospitality. the video eventually cuts once the doors close behind you both.

💬 comments :

👤 : yn² once again coming through as my favorite duo

👤 : yn going to see bambi after fp3 so they can hangout is too cute

👤 : my favorite wags together in one place again 🤧

👤 : lol bambi showing up to this race after the disaster that was silverstone for kimi – she's coming as emotional support 😂😂

📅 july 19, 2026

clip #4 – yn and mama cisca at the belgium gp together 🫶🫶🫶

taken from one of the live broadcasts from before the race. you and cisca are spotted in the back where friends and family usually sit in the garage – the camera originally suppose to focus on lando who is talking with his engineers.

however, the camera catches you and cisca making hearts with your hands and directing them towards lando. cisca's sister is next to you both and laughing as she shakes her head. you beaming a bright smile when you make eye contact with lando and he smiles as you blow him a kiss. lando, of course, catches it and presses it to his lips before you are sending him more hearts.

before the clip ends, it catches cisca giving you a warm smile as she looks between you and her son.

💬 comments :

👤 : cisca knows something we don't guys I JUST KNOW IT

👤 : at this point yn is her daughter as well

👤 : yn sending lando a kiss and him catching it stoppppppp i love them so much 😍😭🥺😩

👤 : cisca watching her son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law was so heartwarming

👤 : how do you know lando is even going to propose to yn??? he still has time to dump her 😪

👤 : ummmm are you blind or delulu bc everyone with a braincell can tell how much lando and yn love each other. very obvious they ARE endgame for each other.... fucking loser

♫ aespa · Drift

cherryn not the results we were hoping for everyone, but still very proud of how hard my man pushed it this weekend 💋 love you, lan 🖤💛❤️ and couldn't be prouder of you

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lando thank you baby ❤️ i love you so much

cherryn 🥰🥰🥰

user yo, literally fuck mclaren...

user WE LOVE YOU LANDOOOOO ❤️

user queen we are BEGGING you to buy mclaren and become ceo 🙏 we know you would run this team properly for our man

user literally fuck mclaren rn

user so beautiful queen thank you for trying to distract us 🤧

user LOVE FROM JAPAN

user photodumps always eat girl

clip #5 — lando and yn leaving belgium after the gp 😣

the clip originally focused on lando and kimi saying bye to one another. the two drivers talking; however, the camera thankfully manages to catch you and bambi chatting with each other.

you and bambi are both then blocked from the camera's view as lando and kimi are seen blocking you both as they talk. but its obvious the two of you are still chatting away as bambi pulls out her phone in order to show you something.

when lando and kimi finally say bye, the british driver is seen turning to look at you – reaching his hand out for you to take. you wave bye to bambi as kimi gently guides her away with the younger girl waving back.

💬 comments :

👤 : curse you, lando and kimi, for tearing our girls away from each other

👤 : why is bambi literally SO fucking cute

👤 : lando was def bitching about mclaren to kimi – poor yn's gonna have to hear about it the whole way home now 😂😂😂

👤 : need more yn² content in my life 😭 such a shame that bambi is private cause she would def rock the soft girl influencer look lolol

cherryn just updated their story !

REPLIES

user oh she's just as made as us – you go queen

user mirror selfie before the subtle callout 🤩🤩🤩

user LOVE YOU QUEEN

user 😂😂😂😂

user NOT THE GEORGE WASHINGTON MEME GIRLLLLLL

user honestly so real of you 🤏🤏🤏

user mclaren you will pay for your sins 🔪

📅 july 20, 2026

papayagirl: THIS IS ABOUT TO END IN A BREAKUP 😭⚽️ → lan4ever: football before love → gridgirlie: survival of the strongest

orange4ever: "no couples therapy will be needed" famous last words 😭 → papayahq: i'll check back after full time

amelieupdates: THE CAPTION IS TAKING ME OUT 😭

f1gossipdaily: someone separate them when a goal gets scored 😭 → papayaprincess: security on standby

lanmeliehub: this is the healthiest rivalry i've ever seen 😭 → orangeobsession: until penalties happen

maxfewtrell: see you both in therapy tomorrow 👍 → lando: booked for 9am already → maxfewtrell: knew it

oscarpiastri: i'm supporting whoever wins so i can say i backed them all along → lando: unbelievable teammate → oscarpiastri: efficient

alex_albon: who's driving home? → ameliedayman: depends on the score → lando: i'm suddenly nervous

georgerussell63: one of you is sleeping on the sofa tonight → lando: we don't own one big enough for that problem → georgerussell63: fair enough 😭

charles_leclerc: i support the drama 🍿

carlossainz55: as a neutral... this will be entertaining 😂 → ameliedayman: you're banned from celebrating either way → carlossainz55: understood 🫡

maxverstappen1: imagine caring about football this much 😭 → lando: says the man who screams at football every tournament → maxverstappen1: fake news

jackdayman: can't wait for the post-match debrief 😂 → ameliedayman: it will be a powerpoint presentation

elysiadayman: i'm just here for the matching jerseys 🥹 → ameliedayman: priorities

alexwolffofficial: if England wins i'm not answering your calls for 24 hours → ameliedayman: fake friend

pietra.pilao: VIVA MÉXICOOOOO 🇲🇽🇲🇽🇲🇽 → lando: muted.

ciscanorris: have fun you two ❤️⚽️

flo_norris_showjumping: remember to be nice to each other 😂❤️ → lando: no promises → ameliedayman: i'll try

olivernorris1: i'm expecting the correct result 🇬🇧 → ameliedayman: awkward...

f1updates: imagine the atmosphere in their section 😭 → lan4ever: every goal = relationship test

papayahq: i need cameras on them more than the match honestly → orange4ever: same priorities

amesnation: watch them celebrate each other's goals anyway 🥹

ameliedayman: if anyone sees him celebrating against mexico... no you didn't 🇲🇽🙂 → lando: ??? that's literally my job today 😂 → ameliedayman: incorrect

lando: just so everyone knows she already threatened to leave me at the stadium 👍 → ameliedayman: and i stand by it 😌 → maxfewtrell: THIS MATCH HASN'T EVEN STARTED 😭

papayagirl: THEY'RE SO STUPID I'M CRYING 😭😭😭 → lan4ever: never change please → orangeobsession: best couple on this app honestly

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

The sprawling Airbnb mansion had settled into the kind of comfortable chaos that only came from four people sharing the same space for several days. Sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the garden, illuminating half-empty coffee mugs, yesterday's newspapers, and a pair of football scarves abandoned across the marble coffee table after an unnecessarily passionate debate about England's chances the previous night. Somewhere upstairs, the distant sound of laughter drifted through the open hallway, followed by drawers opening and closing as the girls continued getting ready.

Downstairs, however, absolutely nothing productive was happening.

Lando and Max Fewtrell had been occupying opposite ends of the enormous cream-colored sectional sofa for nearly forty minutes, each wearing England's red away jersey with matching black shorts. The television played quietly in the background, cycling through pre-match coverage from Estadio Azteca, but neither of them had paid attention in several minutes. Instead, both sat in the universal posture of two men waiting for their girlfriends—slouched comfortably into the cushions, phones in hand, occasionally exchanging comments without ever really looking up from their screens.

Max let out a dramatic sigh.

—I reckon they've started rebuilding the entire bathroom up there,— he muttered, scrolling through his messages before checking the time again. —We've been ready for ages.—

Lando hummed absentmindedly.

—Mm-hmm.—

Max looked over.

That response alone was suspicious.

Ordinarily, Lando would've immediately agreed and probably added something about how women possessed an entirely different understanding of time before making a joke about missing kickoff. Instead, he barely seemed to have registered the conversation at all.

Max lowered his phone onto his lap, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly as he studied his best friend from the opposite end of the sofa.

Lando hadn't moved.

His elbows rested on his knees, completely absorbed by whatever was on his screen. Every few seconds his thumb would scroll down, pause, scroll back up again, zoom in on something, then shake his head almost imperceptibly before continuing his search. It was far more concentration than Max had ever seen him dedicate to social media.

—Mate,— Max called.

Lando didn't answer.

He was still staring at his phone with an intensity usually reserved for race data or FIFA Ultimate Team during lockdown. His eyebrows pulled together thoughtfully as he pinched the screen to zoom in on another photograph before tilting his head ever so slightly, silently comparing one design against another.

—Mate,— Max repeated, louder this time.

—Hmm?—

—Should we go upstairs and remind them the match actually starts today?—

—Give them another five minutes.—

—Five minutes?— Max scoffed, throwing his head back against the plush cushions. —We both know that in girl-time, five minutes actually means thirty. If we don’t move now, we’re going to miss the national anthems completely.—

Lando didn't even blink, his thumb performing another quick swipe across the illuminated glass.

—Just relax, Fewtrell. Azteca traffic is going to be a nightmare anyway, so five minutes won't change our lives.—

Max rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to lean over the armrest so he could look at his friend. He was just about to make a sharp comment about Lando's sudden, uncharacteristic patience when his eyes naturally drifted down, catching a clear glimpse of the bright display before Lando could react.

The screen wasn't showing a car, a race track, or a stream. It was parked on a highly aesthetic Instagram grid filled with macro photography of gleaming platinum, intricate gold bands, and massive, flawless diamonds that practically blinded him through the screen.

Max’s jaw dropped instantly, his eyes widening to the size of saucers.

—What the hell are you doing?— Max asked, his voice suddenly cutting right through the quiet hum of the television pre-match show.

Lando’s entire body went rigid. With the panic of a teenager caught doing something highly illegal, he abruptly slapped his phone face-down against his thigh, clearing his throat as he tried—and completely failed—to adopt an air of casual, nonchalant innocence.

Max stared at him for another second before slowly blinking.

Then he pointed toward the phone still lying face-down on Lando's thigh.

—I... I'm sorry,— he said carefully. —Did I just hallucinate an entire Instagram page full of engagement rings, or are you actually sitting here shopping for diamonds five hours before England kick off?—

Lando scratched the back of his neck.

—I wasn't shopping.— Lando sighed. —I was... looking.—

Lando let out a slow sigh, rubbing the back of his neck before finally reaching down to pick the phone back up. There was absolutely no point pretending anymore. Max had already seen enough to know exactly what he'd been looking at, and lying to the one person who knew him better than almost anyone else would've been completely pointless.

—I was just... looking,— he repeated, sounding almost embarrassed by the admission.

Max continued staring at him in complete disbelief, his mouth hanging slightly open as though he genuinely couldn't decide whether he should laugh first or ask another question. Of every possible thing he'd expected to catch Lando doing while supposedly waiting for the girls, scrolling through engagement rings had ranked somewhere below learning Mandarin or researching alpaca farms. It simply hadn't been on his mental bingo card for the afternoon.

—Looking?— Max repeated slowly, emphasizing the word with obvious skepticism. —Mate, you weren't "looking." You were zooming in. There were comparisons happening. You had that face you get when you're choosing race strategy.—

Lando couldn't help letting out a small laugh, shaking his head as he looked back down at his phone.

—I know.—

—No... seriously.— Max leaned forward, resting both elbows on his knees. —What are you actually doing?—

For a moment, Lando simply looked at the screen again before locking it and placing the phone beside him on the sofa.

He took a slow breath.

—I don't know... I think I'm just starting to look at options.—

Max blinked.

—Options?—

Lando nodded.

—Maybe over summer break.— He shrugged, trying to sound far more casual than he actually felt. —Just... seeing what's out there. Getting ideas before I actually walk into a jeweler looking completely clueless.—

—Wait, wait, wait,— Max said, shifting his entire body around on the sectional until he was sitting cross-legged, staring at Lando as if he had just grown a second head. —You're serious. Like, actual engagement rings? For Amelie?—

Lando rolled his eyes, though the heat instantly flushing his cheeks completely betrayed him.

—No, Max, for Pietra. Of course for Amelie, you absolute idiot,— Lando muttered, running a hand through his curls while his thumb flipped the phone face-up again, exposing the grid of delicate bands and custom diamond cuts.

Max stared at him for another long second before the corners of his mouth slowly lifted into a grin that was equal parts disbelief and genuine happiness.

—I can't believe we're actually having this conversation,— he admitted, shaking his head with a soft laugh. —You know, five years ago the biggest commitment you could make was signing a two-year Twitch sponsorship.—

Lando snorted quietly.

—I know.—

—And now you're comparing diamond cuts.—

—Apparently.—

Max leaned back into the sofa cushions, folding one leg beneath himself while studying his best friend with an expression that had become noticeably softer. The teasing was still there—of course it was—but beneath it sat something undeniably sincere. They'd spent the better part of a decade growing up together. Max had witnessed every version of Lando: the awkward teenager obsessed with racing simulators, the overwhelmed rookie trying to navigate Formula One, the young man who swore he'd never settle down anytime soon, and now... this.

It was strange.

In the best possible way.

—So...— Max said after a moment. —You've actually started thinking about it properly? Not just one of those "maybe one day" thoughts?—

Lando rested his forearms across his knees, his phone dangling loosely between his hands.

—I think so.—

He rubbed his thumb absentmindedly along the edge of his phone, staring down at the dark screen for a few seconds before looking back at Max. There wasn't the slightest trace of his usual joking confidence now. Instead, there was something quieter, something more vulnerable than Max had seen in a long time.

—I don't think it's a "one day" thing anymore,— Lando admitted honestly. —I think... it's becoming a "when" thing.—

The words settled between them.

Max simply nodded.

He understood that difference better than almost anyone.

For years, marriage had existed as one of those distant milestones people joked about eventually reaching. Something that belonged to another version of themselves, much older and somehow more grown-up. Then, almost without warning, one day it stopped feeling hypothetical.

It simply started feeling... right.

He leaned back into the sofa, folding his arms loosely across his chest.

—I know exactly what you mean.—

Lando looked over.

—You do?—

Max smiled to himself before letting out a quiet laugh.

—I haven't told anyone this... not even Pietra, obviously... but I've started thinking about it too.—

Lando's eyebrows immediately lifted.

—Seriously?—

Max nodded.

—Yeah.—

He shrugged almost sheepishly.

—I don't know when. I genuinely haven't got a clue. But lately... every time I picture the next five or ten years, she's there. Every version of my future has her in it without me even trying to imagine it.—

Lando smiled.

—That's exactly it.—

Neither of them spoke for a few moments.

The television continued showing interviews with former footballers predicting the evening's match, but neither of them paid the slightest attention anymore. The conversation had drifted somewhere far more important than football.

Lando let his head rest against the back of the sofa, quietly turning his phone over in his hands while sunlight streamed through the enormous windows overlooking the pool. Somewhere upstairs another burst of laughter echoed through the house, followed by what sounded suspiciously like Pietra insisting she couldn't find one of her earrings. It made both men smile automatically. Moments like these had become strangely ordinary over the past few years, weekends away together, holidays, races, and random trips blending into a version of adulthood neither of them had imagined when they first met as teenagers.

Max broke the comfortable silence first.

—It's funny,— he admitted thoughtfully. —Because when people ask whether I'm ready, I always say, "Maybe one day." But in my head... I stopped thinking about whether I'm ready months ago. I started thinking about whether she'd like the proposal instead. That's when I realized something had changed.—

Lando looked across the sofa at him before slowly nodding.

—I know exactly what you mean.—

He smiled faintly.

—I don't really think about being married anymore. I just think about... Amelie being my wife.—

The sentence hung comfortably in the air.

Max let out a soft whistle.

—Blimey.— He laughed quietly. —You've got it bad.—

—I know.— Lando smiled without a trace of embarrassment. —I don't even care anymore.—

Max studied his best friend for a long moment before speaking again, his expression noticeably more serious now.

—I think you're going to do it.—

Lando glanced over.

—I think so too.—

He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked toward the garden outside.

—I don't know exactly when. Maybe this year... maybe later. I haven't figured any of that out yet. But I know it's her. I knew that ages ago.—

Max nodded slowly.

—I don't think anyone who's actually watched you two is surprised by that.—

Lando laughed under his breath.

—I hope she won't be either.—

—Oh, she'll absolutely cry.— Max grinned. —Probably before you've even finished asking.—

Lando let his head rest against the back of the sofa, quietly turning his phone over in his hands while sunlight streamed through the enormous windows overlooking the pool. Somewhere upstairs another burst of laughter echoed through the house, followed by what sounded suspiciously like Pietra insisting she couldn't find one of her earrings. It made both men smile automatically. Moments like these had become strangely ordinary over the past few years, weekends away together, holidays, races, and random trips blending into a version of adulthood neither of them had imagined when they first met as teenagers.

Max broke the comfortable silence first.

—It's funny,— he admitted thoughtfully. —Because when people ask whether I'm ready, I always say, "Maybe one day." But in my head... I stopped thinking about whether I'm ready months ago. I started thinking about whether she'd like the proposal instead. That's when I realized something had changed.—

Lando looked across the sofa at him before slowly nodding.

—I know exactly what you mean.—

He smiled faintly.

—I don't really think about being married anymore. I just think about... Amelie being my wife.—

The sentence hung comfortably in the air.

Max let out a soft whistle.

—Blimey.— He laughed quietly. —You've got it bad.—

—I know.— Lando smiled without a trace of embarrassment. —I don't even care anymore.—

Max studied his best friend for a long moment before speaking again, his expression noticeably more serious now.

—I think you're going to do it.—

Lando glanced over.

—I think so too.—

He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked toward the garden outside.

—I don't know exactly when. Summer break maybe... maybe later. I haven't figured any of that out yet. But I know it's her. I knew that ages ago.—

Max nodded slowly.

—I don't think anyone who's actually watched you two is surprised by that.—

Lando laughed under his breath.

—I hope she won't be either.—

—Oh, she'll absolutely cry.— Max grinned. —Probably before you've even finished asking.—

Lando smiled at the thought.

—I hope so.—

Max's grin softened into something more thoughtful before he took a slow breath.

—Can I be honest with you?—

—Since when aren't you?—

—Fair point.—

He shifted slightly on the sofa, looking directly at Lando now.

—I know how you're feeling because I'm starting to feel it too. I really do. But... I'm also going to tell you the things everyone else is probably thinking but won't actually say to your face.—

Lando raised an eyebrow.

—Go on then.—

Max rubbed his hands together absentmindedly before speaking.

—You know what the headlines are going to look like.—

Lando's expression remained neutral.

—They're going to say you're too young. That you're rushing it. They'll say you're only twenty-six, that you've both got careers that barely let you stay in the same country for more than a week. They'll write pieces about statistics, celebrity relationships, Formula One schedules, pop tours... the whole lot.—

Lando quietly listened.

Max continued.

—Some people will say you've been together long enough. Other people will say you've waited too long. Some will claim she's sacrificing too much. Others will claim you're sacrificing too much. There'll be strangers convinced they know your relationship better than either of you does.—

He let out a knowing little laugh.

—And if she says yes, which, for the record, I think she absolutely will, the internet's going to lose its mind for about three weeks.—

Lando couldn't help smiling.

—Only three? That's optimistic.—

Max laughed.

—I was being generous.—

His smile faded into something gentler.

—The important bit is... none of those people are living your life.—

Lando remained quiet.

Max shrugged.

—People are always going to have opinions because of who you both are. They don't see the normal stuff. They don't see movie nights. Grocery shopping. Walking Charlie. They don't see you arguing over what takeaway to order or who forgot to charge the coffee machine.—

He smiled knowingly.

—They see race weekends and sold-out stadiums. That's not the relationship. That's the job.—

Lando looked down at his hands for a moment before nodding.

—Exactly.—

Max continued carefully.

—The only thing I'd tell you is... make sure you're doing it because the timing feels right for the two of you. Not because everyone keeps asking when it's happening.—

Lando looked back up.

—I am.—

—I know you are.—

Another quiet silence settled between them before Lando finally spoke again.

—I honestly don't give a shit what people think anymore.—

He smiled, almost to himself.

—I spent years worrying about headlines and comments and whether people approved of everything I did. Then one day I realized... none of those people are coming home with us at night. None of them know her. None of them know us.—

His smile widened.

—If she's happy... that's literally all I care about.—

Max nodded with genuine admiration.

—I figured you'd say that.—

Lando chuckled.

—I mean it.—

He picked up his phone again, glancing briefly at the jewelry page still open before locking the screen.

—The only person whose opinion actually matters is hers.—

Before Max could reply, the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed down the grand staircase, followed immediately by laughter that filled the entrance hall.

Both men instinctively looked toward the foyer.

Pietra appeared first, effortlessly making her way down the final few steps in Mexico's green national team jersey tucked into denim shorts, her blonde hair falling over one shoulder. Right behind her came Amelie, wearing the exact same green Mexico shirt with relaxed white shorts and brown boots, her curly hair swaying as she laughed at something Pietra had just whispered.

Lando blinked.

Then looked at Max.

Then back at the girls.

—Hold on...— he said, pointing dramatically toward their shirts. —What's this?—

Pietra spread her arms proudly.

—I made an executive decision.—

Max frowned.

—You're Brazilian.—

—I am.—

She nodded confidently.

—Brazil got eliminated this afternoon, which means my patriotic duties have officially expired.—

She slipped an arm around Amelie's shoulders with a grin.

—Now I'm supporting Latin America.—

Amelie laughed.

—She spent ten minutes explaining the geopolitical importance of this decision while we were upstairs.—

—I did no such thing.— Pietra smiled innocently.

—You absolutely did,— Amelie replied, unable to stop laughing.

Lando looked utterly betrayed.

—So... my own girlfriend is supporting Mexico?—

Amelie tilted her head.

—I mean... I am Mexican.—

He pretended to think about it.

—I suppose that's a reasonable excuse.—

She smiled sweetly.

—I thought so too.—

Max stood up from the sofa, shaking his head dramatically as he looked between the two couples.

—Well... this should make the drive to Azteca interesting.—

Lando slipped his phone into his pocket, the conversation about engagement rings quietly tucked away with it for now.

There would be another time to think about diamonds.

At the moment... England had two very unexpected rivals to argue with all the way to Estadio Azteca.

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

liked by gridgirlie, orangeobsession, and others

fifaworldcup: When football brings special guests together. 🤝⚽️

Lando Norris and Amelie Dayman welcomed to the Estadio Azteca ahead of tonight's England 🇬🇧 vs Mexico 🇲🇽 showdown. What better way to celebrate the beautiful game?

View all 854 comments

papayagirl: WHY ARE THEY MEETING THE FIFA PRESIDENT 😭😭😭 → orange4ever: casually collecting side quests → gridgirlie: their lives are actually insane

lanmeliehub: THEY LOOK SO PROUD IN THEIR NATIONAL JERSEYS 🥹 → papayahq: this is so wholesome → f1updates: both repping their countries 🫶

amesnation: the fact that neither of them compromised and wore their OWN jersey 😭 → orangeobsession: exactly as it should be

f1gossipdaily: not them becoming honorary football celebrities 😭 → gridgirlie: they've unlocked another achievement → lan4ever: next thing you know they're presenting the trophy

englandfan: COME ON LANDO 🏴 → mexicofan: VAMOS AMELIE 🇲🇽 → papayagirl: the comments are already a war 😭

f1updates: imagine explaining to someone five years ago that an F1 driver and a pop star would be official guests at a World Cup match 😭 → orange4ever: sounds fake but here we are

amelieupdates: SHE LOOKS SO HAPPY REPRESENTING MEXICO 🥹🇲🇽 → amesdefender: i'm emotional already → orangegrid: queen behavior

landostandhq: Lando wearing the England shirt with THAT smile 😭 → lan4ever: man's ready for kickoff → papayagirl: he's taking this very seriously

footballfan22: i need a camera on these two the entire match 😭

papayaprincess: they're standing together now but give it 10 minutes into the match 😭 → orangeobsession: friendship suspended for 90 minutes → gridgirlie: survival mode activated

f1detectives: i KNOW they've already been arguing about the score prediction 😭 → detectiveera: absolutely no doubt

orange4ever: they really went from Silverstone to Wimbledon to the World Cup 😭 → papayagirl: busiest couple alive → f1updates: passport getting WORKED

amesnation: this is actually such a cool moment for both of them 🥹 → papayahq: representing their countries together 🤍 → orangegrid: love this for them

mexicofan: Amelie better not celebrate an England goal 🤨😂 → englandfan: and Lando better not celebrate Mexico 😭 → papayaprincess: impossible challenge

gridgirlie: i just know they're talking trash to each other already 😭

papayagirl: whoever approved this guest list deserves a raise 😭 → f1updates: they knew exactly what they were doing → lanmeliehub: elite booking honestly

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

The private suite overlooking Estadio Azteca buzzed with the unmistakable energy that only a World Cup knockout match could create. Through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, the pitch glowed beneath the floodlights while nearly ninety thousand supporters slowly filled the stands, creating a sea of green and white broken only occasionally by clusters of red-clad England supporters. Chants rolled through the stadium in waves, vibrating faintly beneath their feet even from several levels above the pitch.

Inside the suite, however, the atmosphere was considerably more relaxed.

A buffet stretched across one side of the room, untouched for the moment as conversations flowed between guests, laughter bounced off the glass walls, and televisions mounted in the corners counted down toward kickoff. Every few seconds another familiar face wandered in, exchanging greetings before gravitating toward the panoramic view overlooking one of football's most iconic stadiums.

Lando stood beside the glass with one hand tucked into his pocket, his England jersey fitting comfortably beneath a lightweight jacket draped over his shoulders. Max was explaining—with complete confidence and very little evidence—exactly why England's midfield would dominate possession, while Pietra interrupted every third sentence simply to disagree on principle. Amelie leaned against the edge of a high cocktail table nearby, laughing more at the way the two of them argued than at the football discussion itself.

—You've never watched a tactical analysis in your life,— Max accused.

—I don't need to,— Pietra answered proudly. —I have instincts.—

—Your instincts are wrong.—

—They're Latin American.—

—That's not the same thing.—

Amelie covered her mouth to hide another laugh.

Before she could add her own opinion, two familiar arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her shoulders from behind.

She barely had time to react before she was being gently rocked from side to side with uncontainable enthusiasm.

Amelie let out a surprised laugh, instinctively grabbing onto the forearms wrapped around her shoulders as whoever had ambushed her continued swaying her dramatically from side to side. The hug was impossibly familiar—far too energetic to belong to anyone in the suite, accompanied by a squeal that sounded as though Christmas morning, a Grammy win, and the World Cup final had all happened simultaneously.

—I knew it! I knew you'd already be here!— an excited voice practically sang into her ear.

Amelie laughed harder before twisting around inside the embrace.

—Minnie!—

The two girls immediately threw themselves into a proper hug, laughing as though they hadn't seen each other in years instead of barely a few weeks. Minnie looked impossibly excited, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in Mexico's green national team jersey tucked into relaxed jeans, her dark hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders. Standing directly behind her, hands shoved comfortably into the pockets of his jeans, Alex watched the reunion unfold with the fond, thoroughly unsurprised smile of someone who had witnessed this exact greeting dozens of times before.

He opened one arm dramatically.

—You gonna pretend I'm not here?—

Amelie's eyes immediately widened.

—Alex!—

She abandoned Minnie just as quickly, wrapping both arms around her childhood best friend while he laughed warmly, squeezing her tightly off the ground for a brief second before setting her back down.

—I haven't even been in the room thirty seconds,— he teased, —and you've already replaced me.—

—I replaced you years ago,— Minnie answered without missing a beat.

—Rude.—

—Accurate.—

The exchange earned another round of laughter from Amelie.

Lando wandered over with an amused smile spreading across his face, extending a hand toward Alex before immediately abandoning the formal greeting altogether and pulling him into a quick hug instead.

—Good to see you, mate.—

—You too,— Alex replied easily. —How's married life?—

Lando raised an eyebrow.

—Bit early for that.—

Alex looked at Amelie.

—Emotionally married then.—

Amelie rolled her eyes so dramatically it made everyone laugh.

Max stepped forward next, greeting both Minnie and Alex before Pietra joined them, instantly complimenting the Mexico jerseys with exaggerated approval.

—Finally,— Pietra declared proudly. —People making sensible decisions.—

Lando looked horrified.

—I am literally surrounded.—

—You brought an England shirt to Mexico,— Minnie pointed out. —That's on you.—

—I thought loyalty meant something.—

Alex shrugged.

—Wrong continent, mate.—

The conversation dissolved effortlessly into overlapping laughter.

For several minutes they stood together overlooking the pitch, catching up on recent weeks while occasionally glancing through the enormous windows as players began warming up below. The suite continued filling with guests, conversations blending together beneath the growing roar echoing through Estadio Azteca.

Then a polite voice interrupted them.

—Miss Dayman?—

Amelie turned.

One of FIFA's event coordinators stood a respectful distance away, dressed in an official navy blazer with a laminated accreditation hanging neatly from her neck.

—Sorry to interrupt,— the woman said with an apologetic smile. —We're just about ready downstairs. If you're ready, we'll need to head toward the players' tunnel in the next couple of minutes.—

Amelie nodded immediately.

—Of course.—

The coordinator smiled.

—You're also welcome to bring one guest with you if you'd like. They'll accompany you through the access route before returning to the suite after the ceremony.—

—Perfect. Thank you so much.—

Amelie thanked the coordinator one last time before she disappeared back toward the suite entrance to continue organizing the pre-match ceremony. The moment the woman walked away, four pairs of eyes immediately settled on Amelie with identical curiosity.

Lando was the first to speak.

—Want me to come with you?— he asked almost instinctively, already taking a small step closer. —Might as well keep you company before they throw you in front of ninety thousand people.—

His tone was light, accompanied by an easy smile, as though he assumed the answer was already obvious. Normally, it would've been. They had developed an almost unconscious habit over the years of choosing each other whenever those little moments arose. Whether it was walking into award shows, waiting backstage before performances, or standing together before some enormous public event, they gravitated toward one another without ever needing to discuss it.

Amelie smiled warmly at him.

—It's okay,— she answered gently. —Alex's coming with me.—

Lando's smile didn't disappear immediately.

It lingered for the briefest second, almost as though his brain needed an extra moment to process what she'd just said. Then it softened into something smaller, accompanied by a nearly imperceptible nod.

—Oh... okay,— he replied easily.

The silence that followed was microscopic.

Barely even a second.

Yet somehow, everyone in the group felt it.

Max's eyebrows lifted slightly. Pietra blinked once, looking between Amelie and Alex as though she was waiting for someone to explain a joke she had somehow missed. Minnie looked equally confused, her eyes moving from her best friend to Lando and then back again. Even Alex, who had only been in the room for a handful of minutes, immediately noticed the collective reaction.

Amelie, however, seemed completely unfazed.

She simply smiled at Lando as though she hadn't just casually chosen someone else to accompany her into the middle of Estadio Azteca instead of her boyfriend.

—I'll save you a seat,— Lando said, recovering quickly and offering her a small smile.

Amelie nodded, giving him a soft smile before stepping closer as Lando leaned down to kiss her. It was the kind of kiss that had become second nature between them, familiar and effortless, the quiet reassurance they exchanged even in crowded rooms full of people watching. His hand rested briefly against her waist while his lips met hers gently, and for a moment she almost forgot about the elevator waiting downstairs, the ceremony, and the thousands of people outside.

Except this time was different.

Normally, Amelie was the one who deepened the kiss.

Normally, she would be the one smiling against his lips, refusing to let go first, teasing him for trying to pull away too soon. Lando had joked about it countless times, claiming that saying goodbye to her required at least three separate attempts because she always found a reason to steal "one more kiss."

This time, however, Amelie pulled away first.

It was subtle.

So subtle that anyone else might not have noticed.

But Lando did.

His eyebrows lifted slightly as she stepped back, her fingers brushing his arm affectionately before she turned away. It wasn't rejection—not even remotely. Her smile was still there, her eyes still soft, and there was nothing cold about the gesture. Yet for someone who knew every tiny habit she possessed, the change immediately stood out.

—I'll see you in a bit,— she whispered.

Lando nodded, still smiling.

—Yeah. See you soon.—

Before he could say anything else, Amelie reached for Alex's arm.

—Come on, Alex. You're my escort now.—

Alex looked between her and Lando with a confused expression but allowed himself to be dragged away, following her toward the exit doors of the suite. Minnie watched them leave, still wearing the same puzzled look everyone else had, while Pietra slowly turned toward Lando.

—Okay...—

Lando looked at her.

—What?—

She pointed subtly toward the hallway where Amelie and Alex had disappeared.

—Nothing. Just... interesting choice.—

Lando let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

—Don't start.—

Max immediately raised both hands.

—I'm not saying anything.—

The fact that he said it while very obviously wanting to say something made everyone laugh.

Meanwhile, Amelie and Alex walked through the private corridor leading toward the elevators, the noise of Estadio Azteca growing louder with every step. Staff members moved quickly around them, checking credentials, communicating through headsets, and preparing the final details before the opening ceremony. Yet despite the chaos surrounding them, there was a strange silence between the two childhood friends.

Alex waited until the elevator doors closed.

The moment they were alone inside the mirrored space, he turned toward her.

—What the hell was that?—

Amelie looked at him through the reflection of the elevator doors, completely expressionless.

—What was what?—

Alex stared.

For a moment, he genuinely considered whether she was being serious or simply choosing the most annoying possible answer because she knew exactly what he meant. After knowing her since they were kids, he had learned that Amelie possessed a very specific talent for pretending not to understand situations whenever the truth was inconvenient.

—Don't do that,— he said, pointing at her with a small laugh of disbelief. —Don't give me the "I have no idea what you're talking about" thing. You've been doing that since you were twelve and your mom asked who broke the vase.—

Amelie pressed her lips together, fighting the smile threatening to appear.

—I still don't know what you're talking about.—

Alex let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.

—You're unbelievable.—

The elevator continued descending, the numbers above the door slowly changing as they moved closer toward the field level. Through the glass walls at the end of the corridor, flashes of green shirts and waving flags moved through the stadium, the anticipation of kickoff becoming louder with every passing second.

Alex crossed his arms.

—Look, I'm flattered. Truly. I mean, obviously I'm an incredible escort choice. Fantastic personality, great hair, very charming. The obvious option.—

That finally earned a small laugh from her.

—You are very humble.—

—Extremely.—

He paused, then his expression softened.

—But you and I both know you would've picked Lando any other day.—

Amelie continued looking straight at the polished metallic elevator doors, raising one hand to carefully fix her hair and tuck a loose strand behind her ear, acting entirely casual as if she were not about to absolutely drop a massive bomb on her childhood best friend. She smoothed out the front of her green Mexican national team jersey, keeping her expression perfectly blank while the elevator continued its smooth descent toward the stadium's lower levels.

—I caught Lando looking at engagement rings on his laptop,— she told him shortly, her voice completely calm and even, though the sheer weight of the words immediately shattered the quiet atmosphere inside the mirrored enclosure.

Right on time, the elevator doors slid open with a soft electronic chime, revealing a brightly lit security corridor where several FIFA coordinators were waiting for them. Amelie exited the elevator immediately with a small, confident smirk playing on her lips, leaving a thoroughly shocked and completely frozen Alex standing entirely alone inside the car as his brain struggled to process the information.

It took several long seconds before Alex finally woke up from the shock, his eyes widening to the size of saucers as he bolted out of the elevator to catch up with her fast pace. He sprinted down the concrete hallway, quickly navigating past a group of stadium staff, until he reached out and firmly grabbed Amelie by the shoulders to force her to stop walking and look at him.

Amelie stopped mid-step, slightly startled by the sudden movement, turning around to find Alex standing in front of her with an expression that looked like he had just been told the entire World Cup had been cancelled. His hands remained gently placed on her shoulders, not because he was trying to stop her from leaving, but because he genuinely needed physical confirmation that this conversation was actually happening.

—Wait,— he said, blinking rapidly. —Wait, wait, wait. Go back.—

Amelie stared at him.

—Alex.—

—No, because I need to understand the sentence you just casually dropped in an elevator like you were telling me the weather.— He shook his head in disbelief. —You caught Lando looking at engagement rings?—

She nodded slowly.

—Yes.—

The simplicity of her answer somehow made it worse.

Alex released her shoulders and dragged both hands down his face, letting out a quiet laugh that sounded equal parts shocked and overwhelmed.

—Amelie, you cannot just say something like that and then walk away.—

She smiled slightly.

—I kind of just did.—

—Exactly! That's the problem!—

The FIFA staff walking past them gave them curious looks, but neither of them paid attention. The noise of the stadium surrounding them was growing louder, but for a few seconds, the chaos of the World Cup disappeared entirely. There was only Alex trying to process the fact that his best friend might be on the edge of getting engaged.

He looked at her carefully.

—How did you find out?—

Amelie hesitated.

That hesitation alone told him there was a story.

—I borrowed his laptop.—

Alex narrowed his eyes.

—Borrowed?—

—I wanted to watch something while he was showering.—

—And?—

—And his browser was open.—

Alex immediately pointed at her.

—You didn't snoop?—

She looked offended.

—No!—

A pause.

—Okay, maybe I looked for like... three seconds.—

Alex laughed.

—Amelie.—

—I wasn't trying to! It was just there! I opened it and suddenly there were engagement rings everywhere.—

She shook her head, still slightly in disbelief herself.

—Like, not even subtle things. Actual rings. Different cuts. Different stores. He had clearly been looking at options.—

Alex's expression softened.

Because beneath the surprise, beneath the jokes, he understood exactly why this had shaken her.

This was Lando.

This was Amelie.

This wasn't some random celebrity relationship moment that existed only through cameras and headlines. He had known them separately before they had even become this version of themselves. He knew how much they had grown, how much they had changed, and how rare it was for Amelie to let someone truly become her person.

—Are you scared?— he asked quietly.

The question caught her slightly off guard.

Amelie looked away toward the corridor where staff members continued moving around them, carrying equipment and preparing for the ceremony. For the first time since she had stepped out of the elevator, the teasing expression disappeared.

—Scared?—

Alex nodded.

—Yeah. Like... actually scared.—

She didn't answer immediately.

Her fingers brushed over the edge of the Mexico jersey she was wearing, a small nervous habit he had known since they were teenagers. Whenever Amelie was trying to figure out what she actually felt instead of what she was supposed to feel, she always did something with her hands.

—No,— she finally admitted.

—Or... well, maybe I was at first,— Amelie corrected herself, letting out a small breathy laugh as she leaned back against the wall beside the corridor. —When I first saw it, I literally forgot how to breathe for like five seconds. I think my brain just stopped working because it was so unexpected.—

Alex watched her carefully, waiting for the rest.

—But now?— he asked.

Amelie looked down at the floor for a moment before smiling faintly.

—Now I'm just freaking out.—

The honesty in her voice made Alex's expression soften immediately. This wasn't panic. It wasn't fear of Lando. It wasn't doubt about him. It was something much more complicated, something that had been sitting quietly inside her for longer than she probably wanted to admit.

They started walking again when one of the coordinators signaled that they needed to continue toward the waiting area, but Alex stayed close beside her, clearly not willing to let the conversation end there. They eventually reached a quieter section near the tunnel entrance where several rows of stadium stairs sat empty, the roar of Estadio Azteca echoing around them while they waited for the official call to bring Amelie onto the field.

Instead of standing, they both sat down on the concrete steps.

For a moment, they simply watched the stadium below.

Thousands of fans waved flags, Mexico chants rolling through the air like waves. The green jerseys surrounding them created a breathtaking sea of color, and somewhere in the distance, England supporters responded with their own chants. It was loud, overwhelming, and completely surreal.

Yet somehow, the conversation between them remained quiet.

Alex rested his forearms against his knees.

—You know, when you said "freaking out," I knew exactly what you meant.—

Amelie looked at him.

—Did you?—

He nodded.

—Yeah. Because I know you.—

She smiled softly.

—Unfortunately.—

—Very unfortunately.—

She laughed quietly.

Alex bumped his shoulder against hers.

—But seriously. I think people who don't know you would probably assume you're scared because you don't want it.—

Amelie's expression immediately changed.

—No.—

The answer came so quickly that Alex didn't even need anything else.

He nodded.

—I know. That's what I figured.—

Amelie looked back toward the pitch.

The floodlights reflected against the grass, making the field look almost unreal from where they were sitting. For a few seconds, she simply watched the movement below before finally speaking.

—Since New Year's, we've talked about it.—

Alex turned slightly toward her.

—Marriage?—

She nodded.

—Not like... planning anything. Not like "when are we getting engaged?" or anything like that. Just... talking about the life we want.—

Her fingers twisted together in her lap.

—We talked about having a house somewhere that actually feels like home. We talked about kids one day. About Charlie growing up with a garden. About waking up somewhere together without having to immediately check flights or calendars.—

A small smile appeared on her face.

—We talked about wanting the same things.—

Alex smiled.

—That sounds pretty serious.—

—I know.—

Her smile faded slightly.

—And that's the thing that makes me feel ridiculous.—

Alex frowned.

—Why?—

Amelie shrugged.

Because it was easier than admitting the truth.

—Because I do want that life.— She looked down at her hands. —I really do.—

Her voice became quieter.

—I've never been someone who thought marriage was impossible or something I didn't want. I always imagined it. I always wanted the whole thing. The stupid house, the annoying dog, the person who knows everything about me, the person I come home to.—

She laughed softly.

—I'm actually embarrassingly romantic when you think about it.—

Alex smiled.

—I've known you since you were thirteen. I know.—

She rolled her eyes.

—Thanks.—

—You're welcome.—

The smile disappeared again, replaced by something much more vulnerable.

—I just never really thought someone would want that life with me.—

Alex's expression immediately softened.

Amelie swallowed.

—And I know how stupid that sounds because it's Lando. I know how much he loves me. I know what we have. But sometimes I still have this weird feeling that I'm too much.—

She looked toward the field.

—I've always been a mess, Alex.—

The words came quietly.

—My life has always been chaotic. My career is chaotic. My schedule is chaotic. Half the time I don't even know what country I'm waking up in. I'm emotional, I'm stubborn, I overthink everything, I disappear into work, I forget where I leave my phone...—

She smiled slightly.

—I'm not exactly the easiest person to build a normal life with.—

Alex stared at her for a moment before shaking his head.

—Amelie.— She looked over. —Do you actually hear yourself?—

She frowned slightly.

—What?—

He smiled sadly.

—You're describing the person Lando fell in love with like it's some kind of problem.—

She didn't answer.

Alex continued.

—You think he doesn't know you're chaotic? He literally travels around the world with you. He knows exactly what your life looks like. He knows the crazy schedules, the cameras, the pressure, all of it.— He shrugged. —And he still chooses you every single day.—

That made her look away.

Because she knew he was right.

—You know what I think?— Alex continued.

Amelie looked back.

—I think you spent so much of your life being told you're lucky people stayed that you forgot you're also someone worth staying for.—

The words hit harder than she expected.

Her eyes softened.

Alex smiled gently.

—You and Lando are actually ridiculous because you're both constantly worried the other person is too good for you, when everyone watching from the outside is just thinking, "yeah, that makes complete sense."—

Amelie laughed quietly through her nose.

—That's annoyingly accurate.—

—I know.—

He leaned back against the step.

—You two deserve each other. And I don't mean that in some cheesy movie way.—

He looked at her seriously.

—I mean you found someone who understands the parts of you that most people only see from a distance. And he found someone who loves him beyond the racing, beyond the trophies, beyond all the things everyone else cares about.—

Amelie stayed silent.

Because that was exactly it.

Lando had never loved the version of her that appeared on magazine covers.

He loved the girl who stole his hoodies.

The girl who cried during sad movies and pretended she wasn't crying.

The girl who forgot where she put her keys five minutes after holding them.

The girl who danced around the kitchen with Charlie while making coffee.

He loved all the messy parts.

—I'm happy,— she finally whispered.

Alex smiled.

—I know.—

She looked at him.

—That's the scary part.—

He laughed softly.

—Of course it is.—

She smiled.

—Because it's real.—

Before Alex could answer, a FIFA coordinator appeared at the end of the corridor.

—Amelie? We're ready for you now.—

She stood up slowly, smoothing the front of her Mexico jersey and taking one final look toward the stadium.

The noise was deafening.

The lights were brighter.

The moment was approaching.

But somehow, the thing occupying her mind wasn't the ninety thousand people waiting outside.

It wasn't the cameras.

It wasn't the World Cup.

It was the fact that somewhere upstairs, Lando Norris was probably completely unaware that she had just spent ten minutes talking about a future he had apparently already started imagining too.

Alex stood beside her.

—You good?—

Amelie took a breath.

Then smiled.

—Yeah.— And this time, she meant it. —I'm really good.—

Together, they walked toward the tunnel entrance, the roar of Estadio Azteca growing louder with every step, while somewhere above them Lando waited in his England jersey, completely unaware that the biggest secret of his life had already become the most beautiful surprise of hers.

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

liked by lando, papayagirl, and others

amelieupdates: Amelie bringing out the match ball ahead of Mexico vs England at the Estadio Azteca tonight!!!

View all 535 comments

amesnation: FROM COACHELLA TO THE ESTADIO AZTECA???? 😭😭😭 → amelieupdates: her range is actually ridiculous → papayagirl: no one is doing it like her

mexicofan: AMELIE BRINGING OUT THE BALL IN MEXICO CITY 😭🇲🇽❤️ → vamosmexico: orgulloooo → amesdefender: she looked so happy 🥹

papayaprincess: she really went from singing on stages to walking onto the pitch with the World Cup ball 😭 → orange4ever: the crossover we deserved

f1updates: imagine telling 2018 Amelie fans this would happen 😭 → ameliecentral: they would not believe you

lanmeliehub: LANDO WATCHING HIS GIRL REPRESENT MEXICO AT THE AZTECA 🥹 → papayagirl: he's definitely smiling somewhere → orangeobsession: proud boyfriend moment

mexicofan88: THE WAY THE WHOLE STADIUM CHEERED 😭🇲🇽 → vamosmexico: she belongs there → amesdefender: hearing that crowd must've been insane

f1gossipdaily: Amelie Dayman is officially collecting sports achievements now 😭 → gridgirlie: what's next??

amelieupdates: THE LITTLE SMILE WHEN SHE WALKED OUT 🥹 → amesnation: she looked genuinely emotional → orange4ever: such a special moment

papayagirl: not me crying over someone holding a football 😭 → lan4ever: same actually → gridgirlie: sports moments hit different

mexicofan: MI REINA 🇲🇽❤️

footballfan22: okay but this is actually such a cool guest choice → f1updates: global star, Mexican representative, huge sports fan → papayahq: perfect fit honestly

orangeobsession: LANDO AND AMELIE BOTH REPRESENTING THEIR COUNTRIES TODAY 🥹 → lanmeliehub: the cutest rivalry ever

gridgirlie: she looked more nervous holding that ball than performing in front of thousands 😭 → amesnation: because this was personal → mexicofan88: representing your country hits different

papayagirl: LANDO LIKED I'M DONE 😭 → lan4ever: HE'S SO PROUD → orange4ever: everyone go home

jackinnanen: from music videos to football pitches, somehow this makes sense → ameliedayman: i ask myself the same thing daily

amesnation: SHE DID THAT IN FRONT OF THE AZTECA. THE AZTECA. 😭 → mexicofan: unforgettable moment → papayaprincess: what a way to start the match

f1fangirl99: this week has been unreal for LanMelie content 😭 → lanmeliehub: Silverstone ➡️ Wimbledon ➡️ World Cup → orangegrid: we're spoiled

vamosmexico: AMELIE ONE OF US 🇲🇽❤️ → amesdefender: the comments passing the vibe check → papayagirl: everyone loves her tonight 🥹

mexicofootball: AMELIE DAYMAN AT THE AZTECA IS SOMETHING I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED 😭🇲🇽 → vamosmexico: THE CROWD LOVED HER → amesnation: she looked so proud 🥹

papayagirl: THE FACT THAT SHE WAS HOLDING THE WORLD CUP BALL LIKE IT WAS A GRAMMY 😭 → orange4ever: girl has collected every possible achievement

amesdefender: no because seeing her walk onto THAT pitch in Mexico with the whole stadium watching 🥹 → ameliecentral: such a full circle moment → mexicofan: she represented perfectly ❤️

footballgirlie: not to be dramatic but this is the coolest thing ever 😭 → papayaprincess: you're not dramatic, you're correct

landostandhq: somewhere Lando is probably saying "that's my girlfriend" every five seconds 😭 → orangeobsession: proud boyfriend energy → lanmeliehub: he definitely took 100 photos

f1gossipdaily: Lando brought the F1 world, Amelie brought the music world, now they're taking over football too 😭 → papayagirl: unstoppable duo

mexicofan88: THE CHEERS WHEN SHE WALKED OUT 🥹🇲🇽 → vamosmexico: goosebumps → amesnation: she was smiling so big

gridgirlie: remember when people thought she would only be known as "Lando's girlfriend" 😭 → amesdefender: meanwhile she's out here doing THIS

ameliecentral: she looked nervous for half a second and then smiled like she owned the stadium 😭 → amesupdates: performer instincts kicked in → f1updates: born for big moments

papayaprincess: imagine telling someone "yeah the pop star girlfriend of an F1 driver will open Mexico vs England" 😭 → orangegrid: they'd call you delusional

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

The final whistle had echoed around Estadio Azteca nearly an hour earlier, confirming England's dramatic 3–2 victory over Mexico and bringing the hosts' World Cup journey to a heartbreaking end. Since then, the stadium had slowly begun emptying, though the energy lingering in the air remained impossible to ignore. Some corridors still echoed with disappointed Mexican chants, while others carried jubilant English songs that refused to fade despite the passing time. It had been one of those matches destined to be replayed for years, full of impossible saves, late drama, and enough emotion to leave every supporter mentally exhausted.

The FIFA suite, which had buzzed with excitement before kickoff, now carried the unmistakable atmosphere that followed every major sporting event. Empty champagne flutes, abandoned dessert plates, and scattered match programmes covered the cocktail tables while guests slowly filtered toward the exits, replaying every controversial decision and spectacular goal from memory. Conversations overlapped in several different languages, each one somehow louder than the last as everyone attempted to convince everyone else that their version of the match was the correct one.

Lando stood patiently beside the suite entrance, one hand tucked into the pocket of his black jacket while the other remained firmly intertwined with Amelie's. The England jersey beneath his jacket was slightly wrinkled after ninety exhausting minutes spent alternately standing, shouting, and celebrating with Max. His voice had nearly disappeared entirely from singing "Wonderwall" with several former England players during the closing stages of the evening, yet despite England advancing to the next round, his attention remained fixed almost exclusively on the woman standing beside him.

Amelie looked surprisingly cheerful for someone whose national team had just been eliminated from a home World Cup.

There was, admittedly, a perfectly reasonable explanation for that.

Over the course of the evening, several sympathetic FIFA guests had insisted on buying her drinks after discovering she would be bringing the official match ball onto the pitch only to watch Mexico fall in heartbreaking fashion less than two hours later. She hadn't intended to drink quite that much, but every "I'm so sorry about the result" had somehow been followed by another glass of champagne or tequila. By the time guests began saying their goodbyes, she wasn't remotely drunk—far from it—but she was unmistakably tipsy, her cheeks carrying a rosy flush that had very little to do with the altitude of Mexico City.

Lando had noticed almost immediately.

Not because she was louder than usual or particularly unsteady on her feet, but because she had become impossibly affectionate. She'd barely let go of his hand for the better part of the last forty minutes, absentmindedly tracing circles over his knuckles while conversations happened around them. Every chance she got, she leaned against him, rested her head on his shoulder, or slipped an arm around his waist without saying a word. None of it felt performative. If anything, it felt instinctive, as though somewhere in her champagne-softened brain she'd decided physical contact with him was currently the most comfortable place in the world.

He certainly wasn't complaining.

As the last members of their group gathered near the suite entrance, security quietly informed them it was time to leave before the surrounding corridors became even more crowded. The stadium was still overflowing with supporters attempting to exit, and moving their group through the VIP areas would only become more complicated if they waited much longer.

—Right,— Max announced, clapping his hands together dramatically. —Let's escape before someone starts another tactical debate in the hallway.—

—Or before England fans adopt you into another rendition of Wonderwall,— Pietra added with a grin, nudging Lando.

—I regret nothing,— Lando replied proudly.

—Your voice regrets everything,— Minnie laughed.

The group filtered into the corridor together, immediately surrounded by security personnel guiding them toward the private elevators. Even within the restricted VIP sections, the stadium remained remarkably busy. Players' families, FIFA executives, celebrities, former footballers, and various staff members all moved through the same maze of hallways, creating a constant stream of conversations and movement that echoed beneath the concrete ceilings.

Almost instinctively, Amelie reached for Lando's hand again.

Not simply holding it.

She threaded every finger between his before tightening her grip, walking so close beside him that their shoulders brushed with nearly every step.

Lando glanced sideways.

—You alright?— he asked quietly.

She nodded without opening her eyes, offering his hand another gentle squeeze.

—Mhm.—

Her answer was accompanied by the tiniest smile.

He smiled back.

Somewhere ahead, Alex noticed the interaction and couldn't stop himself from smiling to his own reflection in one of the polished glass walls lining the corridor. The conversation they'd shared beneath the stadium barely two hours earlier replayed quietly in his mind. Watching Amelie absentmindedly cling to Lando now, looking so effortlessly comfortable beside him, only reinforced everything he'd told her.

They really did belong together.

By the time they reached the private elevator, several more groups had gathered nearby waiting for transport between levels. The confined space became noticeably crowded once the doors opened, forcing everyone closer together than they ordinarily would've been.

Amelie responded by stepping even nearer to Lando.

Her free hand found the sleeve of his jacket, fingers curling gently around the fabric while her shoulder rested lightly against his arm throughout the short ride down. She remained almost completely silent, occasionally glancing up at him with sleepy eyes before smiling for absolutely no reason at all.

Lando looked down at her.

—You're very clingy tonight,— he observed softly.

Amelie looked up at him through slightly sleepy eyes, the corners of her mouth lifting into the smallest, most content smile imaginable.

—I know,— she admitted without the slightest embarrassment.

There wasn't even an attempt to deny it.

Instead, she simply tightened her fingers around his hand again before resting her head briefly against his shoulder as the elevator continued its descent. The champagne had softened every instinct she usually had to overthink things, leaving behind only the simple certainty that she wanted to be as close to him as physically possible.

Lando chuckled quietly beneath his breath.

—Not complaining,— he whispered.

—Good.—

She looked up again, studying his face for a second before absentmindedly smoothing the collar of his jacket with her free hand, apparently deciding it wasn't sitting quite right. Once satisfied, she gave his chest a gentle pat as though completing a very important task.

—There,— she murmured.

Lando laughed.

—What exactly did you fix?—

—I don't know.— She shrugged. —Something.—

The elevator doors slid open onto the underground VIP level, immediately replacing the quieter atmosphere with organized chaos. Security officers directed guests toward different exits while production staff hurried in every direction carrying equipment. Beyond the secured barriers, distant cheers still echoed from supporters lingering outside the stadium, refusing to let the night end just yet.

The group followed security through the concrete corridors toward the private vehicle entrance.

The closer they came to the exit, the louder everything became.

England supporters were still singing somewhere nearby, while disappointed—but remarkably spirited—Mexican fans answered with chants of their own. Rather than bitterness, the atmosphere had settled into something strangely celebratory. It felt less like one nation mourning defeat and more like an entire city unwilling to let the biggest sporting event it had ever hosted end quietly.

Waiting beneath the covered pickup area sat the familiar convoy of black SUVs.

The lead security officer opened the rear passenger door of the first vehicle before stepping aside, allowing the group to climb inside one by one.

Max and Pietra settled into the back row first, immediately continuing the debate they'd somehow managed to carry uninterrupted from the suite.

—I still think the referee missed that foul,— Pietra insisted.

—Because you're biased.—

—Because I have functioning eyesight.—

Minnie laughed before climbing into the middle row beside Alex, leaving the remaining seat for Lando and Amelie.

Lando climbed into the SUV first, sliding across the leather bench before immediately turning back toward the open door. He didn't even have to offer his hand. Amelie reached for it automatically, intertwining their fingers as she carefully stepped into the vehicle before settling beside him with an exhausted sigh that sounded as though the emotional roller coaster of the evening had finally caught up with her. The moment the door shut behind them, sealing out much of the stadium noise, she instinctively leaned sideways until nearly her entire body rested against his.

Within seconds she had practically folded herself into him.

Her legs angled toward his, one arm slipping lazily around his waist while her cheek disappeared into the crook of his neck. Her eyes drifted shut almost immediately, and she breathed out a long, content sigh, as though she'd finally found the only comfortable position in the entire city. Lando smiled to himself, wrapping one arm securely around her shoulders without interrupting whatever peaceful little world she'd disappeared into.

Nobody said anything.

Not because the silence was uncomfortable, but because it wasn't.

The car filled with the pleasant quiet that often followed long days spent together, everyone mentally replaying the match while Mexico City's traffic slowly carried them away from Estadio Azteca. Max stared absentmindedly out the window at the endless streams of supporters walking through the streets in jerseys and waving flags. Pietra scrolled through photographs she'd already been tagged in from inside the stadium. Minnie rested her head against the window while Alex quietly answered a message from one of his brothers.

Meanwhile, Amelie hadn't moved an inch.

Her face remained buried comfortably against Lando's neck, one of her hands absentmindedly clutching the fabric of his England jersey beneath his jacket. Every now and then she would lazily rub her thumb against his side without even realizing she was doing it, her movements slowed by the champagne still lingering warmly in her system. Lando occasionally brushed his fingers through the ends of her hair, smiling every time she instinctively leaned even closer in response.

For several more minutes, she remained perfectly still, curled comfortably against him while the SUV crawled through the maze of service roads surrounding Estadio Azteca. The rhythmic vibration of the engine, combined with the warmth radiating from Lando's body, had almost lulled her into falling asleep. She could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek and occasionally felt him press the gentlest kiss against the top of her head, absentminded gestures that somehow made her melt even further into his side. Every so often she'd smile without opening her eyes, tightening her arm around his waist just enough for him to notice.

Lando, meanwhile, couldn't stop smiling to himself.

He had absolutely no idea what had gotten into her tonight, but if this was the result of two glasses of champagne, a few celebratory tequilas, and an emotional football match, he certainly wasn't going to question it. Ever since they'd left the suite, she hadn't voluntarily created more than a few centimeters of space between them, and every tiny display of affection had been so instinctive that it felt even more meaningful than her usual confidence. It wasn't grand or dramatic. It was simply Amelie deciding, over and over again, that being close to him was exactly where she wanted to be.

The comfortable silence inside the vehicle stretched on until, completely without warning, Amelie suddenly sat bolt upright.

The abrupt movement startled nearly everyone inside the SUV.

Her eyes flew open with a level of excitement that hadn't existed even thirty seconds earlier, and she turned so quickly toward the rest of the group that Lando instinctively reached out to steady her before she accidentally headbutted the roof of the car.

—I have an idea!— she announced brightly.

Every head inside the SUV turned toward her at exactly the same time.

Lando's arm remained wrapped securely around her waist, partly because he liked having her there and partly because he was fairly certain the sudden burst of enthusiasm, combined with the amount of champagne she'd consumed, might send her tumbling into the center console if he wasn't careful. He looked at her with an amused smile, watching the excitement practically radiate from her face.

—Oh?— he asked, unable to hide the laugh already threatening to escape. —Should I be worried?—

Amelie gasped dramatically, placing one hand against her chest as though he'd deeply offended her.

—Very rude,— she declared. —You should be excited. This is an excellent idea.—

Max looked over the back of his seat.

—Those are usually the famous last words before someone gets arrested.—

—I have never been arrested.—

—There's still time tonight,— Pietra answered, grinning.

Amelie ignored them completely.

She clapped her hands together once, her smile somehow growing even brighter before looking around the vehicle like she was about to unveil the greatest plan in recorded history.

—We should go to the Ángel de la Independencia!—

Silence.

Alex blinked.

—The... Angel?—

—Yes!— she nodded enthusiastically. —Everyone celebrates there after football matches. England won, Mexico hosted an incredible match, everybody's going to be there. It'll be so much fun!—

Minnie tilted her head.

—Amelie... the whole country knows what you look like.—

—Exactly,— Max agreed. —And Lando isn't exactly anonymous either.—

Amelie pointed triumphantly.

—I have a solution.—

Lando raised an eyebrow.

—Which is?—

She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with excitement.

—Kenia went after the last Mexico match wearing one of those lucha libre masks and nobody recognized her. She was literally walking around with everybody, taking videos, celebrating, dancing... nobody had a clue.—

She looked directly at Lando.

—We get two masks.—

He stared at her.

—Your plan... is to disguise ourselves as luchadores?—

She nodded so enthusiastically her ponytail bounced.

—Exactly!—

Lando couldn't help laughing.

—That's genuinely insane.—

—I know! Isn't it brilliant?—

Max buried his face in his hands.

—She's impossible when she's tipsy.—

—She's impossible when she's sober too,— Alex corrected. —The champagne has just made her believe every idea deserves immediate implementation.—

Lando looked at her for several long seconds, searching her face for even the smallest indication that she was joking.

There wasn't one.

If anything, she seemed even more convinced by her own idea the longer she talked about it, already gesturing animatedly with both hands as though the entire plan had somehow become logistically flawless in the space of thirty seconds. The faint flush across her cheeks, combined with the unmistakable sparkle in her eyes, told him exactly how much the champagne had contributed to this burst of confidence.

—I cannot believe I'm even considering this,— he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

Amelie's entire face lit up.

—You're considering it!—

—I didn't say that.—

—You thought about it for at least half a second.— She pointed triumphantly. —That counts.—

Pietra laughed from the back row, leaning forward between the seats.

—I vote yes,— she declared. —When are we ever going to celebrate an England win in Mexico City again?—

—Exactly!— Amelie exclaimed, immediately finding an ally. —See? Pietra gets it.—

Max groaned dramatically.

—You two together are genuinely dangerous.—

Alex looked between the couples before shrugging.

—I mean... she's got a point. The atmosphere around Reforma tonight is probably unreal.—

Minnie nodded thoughtfully.

—And if they actually wear masks... there's a decent chance nobody notices them. People are going to be far more interested in celebrating than analyzing facial structures beneath lucha masks.—

Lando looked around the SUV, slowly realizing he was rapidly losing the vote.

He sighed theatrically.

—I hate all of you.—

Amelie immediately threw both arms around his neck.

—I knew you'd say yes!—

—I literally haven't.—

—Details.—

She kissed his cheek loudly before settling back against him, grinning so widely that nobody in the car had the heart to point out she'd completely ignored his actual answer.

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

liked by orangeobsession, lan4life, and others

lanmeliehub: Lando and Amelie were spotted leaving the Estadio Azteca together after tonight's Mexico vs England match, still side by side after 90 minutes of football rivalry.

View all 943 comments

papayagirl: THEY SURVIVED THE MATCH 😭👏 → lan4ever: couples therapy canceled → orange4ever: the caption aged beautifully

gridgirlie: still walking out together... we all won 🥹 → papayahq: football couldn't break them → lanmeliehub: true love passed the test

papayaprincess: i need to know what that car ride home was like 😭 → orangegrid: complete silence or nonstop banter

f1gossipdaily: the way they're still smiling 😭 → orangeobsession: nobody slept on the couch apparently → lan4life: relationship status: intact

amelieupdates: holding hands after spending 90 minutes supporting opposite teams 🥹 → amesdefender: healthiest rivalry ever

footballfan22: okay but WHO WAS TALKING THE MOST WALKING OUT 😭 → papayagirl: definitely Amelie → lan4ever: Lando was defending every England decision

lanmeliehub: imagine the debates they had during the match 😭

papayaprincess: "no couples therapy will be needed after today" AND THEY WERE RIGHT 😭 → f1updates: they manifested it → orangegrid: iconic caption

orangeobsession: they're actually so cute i can't deal 🥹 → papayahq: every event somehow becomes date night → lan4life: it's a talent

amesnation: they really spent the whole week going from Silverstone ➡️ Wimbledon ➡️ World Cup 😭 → papayagirl: i need their energy levels → gridgirlie: meanwhile i need a nap after grocery shopping

f1detectives: okay but who's wearing whose jersey in the car home 🤨 → detectiveera: asking the important questions

papayagirl: i KNOW one of them kept bringing up the score while leaving 😭 → lan4ever: "just one more thing..." → papayahq: the argument never ended

f1updates: imagine the fans seeing them leave together 😭 → orangeobsession: i'd forget where i parked → gridgirlie: same honestly

ameliecentral: they're so "us against the world"... except today it was "us against each other" 😭 → amesdefender: temporary enemies

footballgirlie: they're making football look romantic somehow 😭 → lanmeliehub: impossible challenge completed → orangegrid: only they could

papayahq: the fact that they spent the entire day proudly supporting different teams and still ended it hand in hand 🥹 → f1updates: that's actually really sweet

gridgirlie: i just know they were teasing each other the entire walk out 😭

orangeobsession: can we all appreciate how much FUN they seem to have together?? 🥹 → amesnation: that's my favorite thing about them → papayahq: they genuinely look like best friends

f1gossipdaily: okay... now post the selfies from inside the stadium 😭 → papayaprincess: DON'T BE SHY → lanmeliehub: we know they took at least 200

papayagirl: survived Silverstone emotions, survived Wimbledon, survived England vs Mexico... these two are literally unstoppable 😭 → orange4ever: strongest couple on the grid

mexicofan88: okay but seeing them leave together after cheering for opposite teams is actually adorable 😭❤️ → vamosmexico: football rivalry lasts 90 minutes, love lasts longer 🥹 → amesnation: STOP THAT'S CUTE

englandtillidie: Lando won on the pitch, Amelie won everyone's heart 😭 → orange4ever: everyone left happy somehow

papayagirl: imagine the first thing they said when they got in the car 😭 → gridgirlie: "so..." → lan4ever: "don't."

lanmeliehub: they're definitely arguing over ONE specific referee decision all the way home 😭 → papayaprincess: no one is changing anyone's mind

footballgirlie: they're literally smiling in every exit photo 😭 → f1updates: zero post-match tension detected → papayahq: couples therapy truly wasn't needed

amesdefender: if they don't post a selfie together after this i'm suing 😭 → papayagirl: WITH THE JERSEYS STILL ON PLEASE

gridgirlie: i love that neither of them switched jerseys after the match 😭 → lan4ever: loyal until the very end → orange4ever: as they should be

f1gossipdaily: okay but imagine being the driver listening to them debate football 😭 → papayahq: "just keep driving..."

papayaprincess: the way they probably spent more time teasing each other than actually watching the game 😭 → amesnation: absolutely no doubt → lanmeliehub: that's their love language

orangeobsession: the smiles are giving "we had the best night regardless of the result" 🥹 → f1updates: exactly what date nights are supposed to be

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

The flow of people along Paseo de la Reforma seemed endless.

Thousands of supporters drifted beneath the illuminated skyline of Mexico City, weaving around food stalls, street performers, musicians, and spontaneous circles of strangers who had decided that one unforgettable World Cup night deserved to last until sunrise. Green Mexican jerseys mixed effortlessly with England's red shirts, flags waved from shoulders, chants erupted every few seconds before dissolving into laughter, and somewhere in the distance someone had managed to start an entire brass band in the middle of the avenue.

The Ángel de la Independencia towered above everything, glowing gold against the dark summer sky.

Amelie couldn't stop smiling.

Her hot pink lucha libre mask hid most of her face, but nothing could disguise the happiness radiating from her eyes. Every few steps she looked around like someone determined to memorize absolutely everything—the children sitting on their parents' shoulders waving tiny flags, elderly couples dancing together to music pouring from portable speakers, complete strangers hugging after discovering they supported opposing teams but had shared beers anyway.

There was something undeniably beautiful about it.

Lando walked beside her with one hand comfortably intertwined with hers, his black-and-silver lucha libre mask sitting surprisingly securely despite the amount of laughing he'd done over the last half hour. Every now and then someone bumped gently into his shoulder as the crowd shifted around them, but the avenue never felt aggressive or overwhelming. Instead, it carried the loose, collective rhythm of thousands of people simply enjoying the same evening together. Behind them, one member of their security detail followed at a respectful distance, close enough to intervene if necessary but discreet enough that most people probably assumed he was simply another friend walking with the group.

Ahead of them, Max had somehow convinced Alex that he could accurately predict the next England starting eleven for the quarterfinal simply by "reading body language," a statement that had immediately prompted Minnie and Pietra to spend the last five minutes making increasingly ridiculous faces and asking him to interpret those instead. Every prediction somehow became more absurd than the last, until Alex was laughing so hard he had to stop walking altogether while Pietra dramatically informed Max that, according to his own logic, she was apparently destined to become FIFA president before breakfast.

Amelie listened to the conversation without really listening to it.

The words floated around her like background music, blending naturally with the chants echoing from every direction and the occasional burst of laughter from groups of strangers celebrating nearby. It all felt wonderfully alive. Warm night air brushed gently against the exposed skin of her legs while the scent of grilled street food, fireworks, and summer drifted lazily through Reforma. Somewhere behind them someone began singing "Sweet Caroline," only for a group of Mexican supporters to answer with "Cielito Lindo," and instead of competing, the songs somehow coexisted, creating a soundtrack so wonderfully chaotic that she wished she could bottle the moment forever.

She found herself squeezing Lando's hand a little tighter.

Lando immediately noticed the subtle change.

He glanced sideways beneath the silver trim of his mask, feeling the gentle increase in pressure where her fingers intertwined with his. Without thinking, he returned the squeeze instinctively, brushing his thumb lazily across the back of her hand as they continued walking through the sea of supporters. It had become one of those unconscious conversations they'd developed over the years, communicating entire thoughts without speaking a single word. A tighter squeeze meant I'm here. His answering one meant I know.

Amelie smiled to herself.

She wasn't entirely sure whether the champagne was still responsible for the softness lingering in her chest anymore. Earlier in the evening she'd blamed every affectionate impulse on being tipsy, every stolen glance on tequila, every unnecessary hug on Mexico's heartbreaking elimination. But as they wandered beneath the glowing lights of Reforma, surrounded by thousands of strangers who had absolutely no idea who they were beneath the embroidered masks, she realized something quietly wonderful.

This wasn't the alcohol.

This was clarity.

The conversation with Alex underneath Estadio Azteca replayed gently through her mind, every sentence returning with surprising precision despite everything that had happened afterward. Every version of my future has her in it. Lando had admitted that to Max. Alex had told her they deserved each other. And somewhere between finding engagement rings on a laptop and celebrating beneath the Ángel dressed as anonymous luchadores, something inside her had settled into place.

She'd spent years wondering whether she was too much.

Too emotional.

Too impulsive.

Too loud when she was excited, too quiet when she was hurting, too complicated for someone to willingly choose forever.

Those thoughts had followed her for most of her adult life like persistent shadows, whispering that people loved the exciting version of Amelie Dayman but would eventually grow tired of the real one. The anxious one. The messy one. The woman who sometimes overthought herself into complete exhaustion before pretending everything was perfectly fine.

She had never admitted that fear out loud very often.

Not even to Lando.

Pieces of it had slipped through the cracks during difficult conversations over the years, usually late at night when honesty came a little easier than daylight. But she'd never fully explained just how impossible forever had always seemed whenever she pictured herself standing at the center of it. Marriage had always been something she desperately wanted, something she'd dreamed about since she was little, yet somehow she'd convinced herself it belonged to other people. To women who were steadier, calmer, easier to love.

She had spent so much of her life believing that love came with an expiration date.

Not because anyone had explicitly told her it did, but because somewhere along the way she'd started assuming people eventually grew tired of complicated hearts. She'd watched relationships fall apart, watched promises dissolve, watched "forever" quietly become "for now" more times than she cared to remember. Even after she and Lando had found their way back to each other, after every difficult year and every impossible conversation, there had still been a tiny, stubborn part of her that occasionally whispered, Don't get too comfortable. People leave.

Tonight, for the very first time.. that voice was quiet.

Almost completely silent.

She turned her head slightly, looking at the man walking beside her.

Lando was laughing at something Max had just said, the sound muffled slightly beneath the black-and-silver lucha mask covering most of his face. His shoulders shook with genuine amusement before he reached up to adjust the edge of the mask that had begun sliding down his nose. Even hidden behind embroidered fabric, she recognized every tiny expression. The crinkle at the corners of his eyes. The way he tilted his head back when something genuinely caught him off guard. The unconscious way his thumb continued tracing slow circles against the back of her hand, never once letting go as they walked.

She didn't need to see his whole face.

She knew him by heart, and suddenly, standing in the middle of thousands of celebrating strangers beneath the glowing lights of Mexico City, the realization landed with such certainty that it almost stole the air from her lungs.

It wasn't simply that she wanted to marry him.

It wasn't even that she hoped he might ask someday.

It was the quiet certainty settling deep inside her that, whether it happened next year or five years from now, whether it was in a tiny chapel or on a cliff overlooking the sea or somewhere entirely unexpected...

He would always be the one waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

No one else had ever occupied that place in her heart.

No one else ever would.

She smiled to herself beneath the bright pink mask.

Alex was right.

They deserved each other.

Not because they were perfect.

Not because they'd always gotten everything right.

But because after every mistake, every misunderstanding, every year spent growing into different versions of themselves, they had somehow continued choosing one another anyway.

Again and again and again.

Until choosing him no longer felt like a decision.

It simply felt like home.

The realization made something inside her chest ache so beautifully that she couldn't keep it to herself any longer.

She stopped walking.

The movement was so sudden that Lando instinctively stopped beside her, still holding her hand as the rest of the group continued several steps ahead before eventually realizing they were no longer following.

He turned toward her, tilting his head slightly.

—Everything okay?— he asked, his voice softened by concern.

She didn't answer.

Instead, she simply looked at him.

Really looked at him.

At the familiar curve of his shoulders beneath the England jersey, at the ridiculous wrestling mask somehow making him look both intimidating and impossibly adorable at the same time, at the pair of eyes that had become her favorite place in the world years ago without her even realizing it.

Lando's eyebrows lifted slightly beneath the edge of the mask.

—Ames...?—

She reached up with her free hand and gently rested it against the side of his face.

He immediately leaned into the touch.

The gesture was so instinctive neither of them even thought about it.

Without another second of hesitation, Amelie rose onto the tips of her trainers and closed the remaining distance between them.

Her lips found his with absolute certainty.

It wasn't rushed.

It wasn't playful.

It wasn't one of the countless little pecks they'd stolen throughout the evening.

It was slow.

Deep.

Certain.

She kissed him with every emotion she hadn't quite found words for since opening his laptop hours earlier. Every fear she'd finally let go of. Every dream she'd stopped believing belonged only to other people. Every ounce of love she'd been carrying around in her chest suddenly poured into one impossibly tender kiss beneath the golden glow of the Ángel de la Independencia.

Around them, the celebration continued uninterrupted.

Supporters sang.

Car horns echoed.

Someone set off another burst of green fireworks overhead.

The city kept moving.

Yet for those few seconds, neither of them noticed anything except each other.

Lando smiled into the kiss before finally pulling back just enough for their foreheads to rest together, both of them still hidden beneath their colorful masks.

He let out the softest little laugh.

—Well...— he murmured. —You finally decided to stop acting like you're disgusted by me.—

Amelie stared at him for exactly one second.

Then she burst into laughter.

—You're such an idiot,— she whispered.

—I've been saying good morning to you all day and this is the appreciation I get.—

She shook her head, unable to stop smiling.

—I kiss you every five minutes.—

—Could've fooled me.—

She gasped dramatically.

—I cannot believe this man.—

—Thought I'd have to file a formal complaint eventually.—

She didn't even bother answering.

Instead, she cupped his face with both hands and kissed him again.

This time she laughed softly against his mouth halfway through, making him laugh too before he wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly close despite the crowd flowing around them.

—I love you,— she whispered against his lips.

The words came so naturally that she barely realized she'd spoken them aloud.

Lando's smile softened immediately.

The teasing disappeared as though it had never existed.

He brushed the tip of his nose gently against hers beneath their masks.

—I love you too,— he answered quietly.

She kissed him again.

—I love you.—

He smiled wider.

—I know.—

Another kiss.

—I really, really love you.—

He chuckled softly.

—I gathered that.—

She leaned in once more, stealing another lingering kiss before resting her forehead against his again.

—I just wanted to make sure you knew.—

Lando looked at her for a long moment.

There was something different about the way she was looking at him tonight.

Not more loving—that would've been impossible—but somehow... lighter.

As though she'd finally put down a weight she'd been carrying for years.

He didn't know why.

He didn't know what had changed.

He only knew that whatever it was, it had made the woman he loved look happier than he'd seen her in a very long time.

He lifted their intertwined hands and kissed her knuckles gently.

—I know,— he whispered. —And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never have to wonder if I love you back.—

For the briefest moment, Amelie's eyes shimmered.

She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat before smiling so brightly it reached her eyes even through the ridiculous hot pink lucha mask.

Then, unable to help herself, she stole one last kiss.