the fact that Lando Elizabeth Norris is in DIRTY fucking MYRTLE BEACH, a mere five hours from me, interacting with people that SOUND like me, in the same place I once got a Fetty Wap henna tattoo, an underage drinking ticket, lost my phone in the ocean, traded a pair of sandals for a cigarette, learned to surf, went to a foam party, & woke up in someoneโs beach house that was not a known person to me at all, all in a 12 hour time period, is absolutely sending me to outer space. Him being in this part of the world has upset the natural balance of things.
A/N: Iโm dead serious when I say this chapter took years off me. I wrote it three different ways, scrapped two of them, and landed here because at this point I needed somebody in my life, real or not, to get something that even looks like a happy ending. Warโs over, itโs finally up, and weโre at least a little closer to whatever version of happy I decide weโre gonna get. I know it seems like I am writing just for shits and giggles, but it does get so much better after this chapter.
I proofread this one time while I was half asleep, so if you see mistakes, kindly ignore them.
โThatโฆ was a lot.โ
The therapist exhales, closing her notebook like sheโs finally admitting how far off track this whole thing went.
โNot my finest moment,โ you say with a shrug. โSilverstone, I mean. Everything after that, with Zak and his band of idiots, I stand by.โ
โAnd you?โ she asks, looking at Lando.
He drags a hand down his face. โYeah. Went a bit mad there for a second.โ
โA bit,โ you mutter.
Her eyes move back to you. โEarlier, you both mentioned the over sexualisation of your relationship. Publicly and privately. Boundaries being blurred by the both of you. Some incidents happening within the last few weeks.โ
You donโt respond.
โAnd yet youโre still around it,โ she continues. โThe garage. The paddock.โ
โIโm trying to understand how that works,โ she says, โif you resigned from McLaren and are no longer present in their space.โ
You glance at Lando like he might answer.
He doesnโt. Heโs still looking down at your hand, thumb dragging over your fingers like thatโs the only thing heโs paying attention to.
โIโmโฆโ you pause, then settle on it, โrace adjacent.โ
She looks at you. โThatโs vague.โ
โItโs meant to be.โ
โIn what capacity?โ
โIn whatever capacity Iโm needed.โ
โOfficially or unofficially?โ
You let out a quiet breath. โDepends who you ask.โ
โWho would answer differently?โ
You shrug.
โIโve told you enough.โ
She watches you for a second like she doesnโt believe that.
Lando shifts beside you.
โSheโs working,โ he says. โJust not how she was.โ
You donโt look at him. He doesnโt look at you.
โAnd that works?โ the therapist asks.
โIt works,โ you say.
She doesnโt look convinced.
She opens her notebook again.
โYou can continue.โ
__
You had been in bed long enough that the light had shifted without you noticing when it happened. Your phone was somewhere in the blankets beside you, close enough that you didnโt have to look for it when you reached for it, which you had been doing on and off all afternoon without really thinking about it.
The last two weeks had blurred together in a way that made them hard to separate.
You woke up and stayed there, rolled onto your side, then your back, then your other side, checking the time like it was going to change something, closing your eyes again anyway, doing it a few times before you finally got up.
You caught yourself in the mirror on the way to the bathroom and paused for a second, not long, just enough to look, take it in, then move on.
Some days you ate, some days you didnโt, showered when you felt like it, stood there longer than you needed to when you did, pulled something on after and went straight back to the bed or the couch, turned something on just to have it there, sometimes it held your attention long enough that you didnโt think about anything else, sometimes you just let it run.
You kept losing track of time, looking up and the light was different, the day already gone, the room darker than it shouldโve been, that part kept catching you.
You still answered him, calls, texts, whenever it came through, you picked up, you replied, you said you were fine, said you were busy, said whatever you needed to say so it sounded like nothing had changed, like you were still the same girl he met, the one who told Zak Brown to get fucked without thinking about it, the one who didnโt hesitate, didnโt sit around overthinking everything.
You said it like it was still true.
You didnโt tell him about the rest of it, how long it took you to get out of bed, how youโd stand in the kitchen and just not do anything for a minute because you couldnโt decide what came next, how you avoided leaving unless you had to, kept putting things off, stayed in longer than you ever wouldโve before.
You didnโt say any of that.
You stayed up there, high enough above everything that it didnโt feel real, like the city was happening somewhere else entirely, far enough removed that sometimes you caught yourself wondering if any of it had actually been worth it.
There were calls that started normally and ended too easily, texts that went back and forth just enough to say you werenโt ignoring each other, but never long enough to turn into anything real, every conversation skirting around the same thing without either of you actually touching it.
โHave you actually thought about how this works outside of this?โ
Since you had said it outside of McLaren, neither of you had answered it.
Your phone buzzed in your hand.
โHi.โ
โHey,โ you could hear voices, footsteps, someone talking too close to him for a second before it dropped off. โYou alright?โ
โYeah.โ
โYeah?โ
โYeah.โ
โSorry, itโs a bit mad,โ he added. โTheyโve had me in press all morning.โ
โMm.โ
You shifted slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around you.
โHow is it,โ you asked.
โThe same,โ he said. โEveryoneโs everywhere. I canโt really move without someone stopping me.โ
โSounds about right.โ
โYeah.โ
Another pause.
You could hear someone call his name, louder this time.
โOne sec,โ he muttered, not covering the phone. A quick โtwo minutesโ to someone else, then he was back. โSorry.โ
โItโs fine.โ
โHowโs your day been?โ he asked.
โFine.โ
โYeah?โ
โYeah.โ
You didnโt add anything.
โAlright,โ he said quietly, like he knew you werenโt giving him much to work with but wasnโt going to push it.
โIโve just been trying to get things sorted here,โ you said.
โYeah, same,โ he replied. โItโs justโฆ a lot at the minute.โ
You could feel it sitting there again, the same thing it had been every time.
โI was thinking about you earlier,โ he said, softer now, like heโd stepped just far enough away from everyone else.
You stared at the ceiling. โYeah?โ
โYeah.โ
It hung there.
You didnโt take it any further.
โI know youโre busy,โ you said.
โYeah,โ he said. โTheyโre already waiting on me, to be fair.โ
You nodded to yourself. โThen go.โ
He hesitated for half a second. โIโll text you later, yeah?โ
โOkay.โ
โYeah.โ
A pause.
โIโll talk to you.โ
โYeah.โ
The line went dead.
You let the screen go dark and dropped it back beside you, rolling onto your side instead, pulling the blanket in tighter like that was going to do anything.
A few minutes passed before you reached for your phone again, thumb already moving before you really thought about it, app store, one after the other, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, downloading them again like they hadnโt chewed you up and spit you out three weeks ago.
They opened like nothing had changed, your accounts still there, messages still there, everything exactly where you left it.
You didnโt look at anything else, just went straight to him.
His profile came up and you paused on it for a second before opening the first thing you saw, a video, someone else filming, him outside with a club in his hands, lining something up while someone said something off camera, he laughed, shook his head, took the shot anyway.
You backed out and opened another one, media, sponsors, something from earlier that morning, another clip from the same place, different angle.
Nothing about it looked off. Nothing about him looked off.
You tapped into one more and watched him talk, answering a question, smiling like he always did when he wasnโt taking it seriously, and you stayed on it longer than you meant to before stopping it.
You didnโt open the comments, didnโt look at anything under it, just sat there with your phone in your hand, his face paused on the screen.
It took a second for it to land.
Not what he was doing. You knew what his week looked like. You knew where he was, what heโd be pulled into, how it all ran once he was there.
You just werenโt part of it.
You heard from him, calls, texts, enough that you couldnโt pretend heโd disappeared.
But this part of it, this version of his day, this version of him, you were nowhere near it.
__
You woke up slow the next morning, light already coming through the curtains.
Your phone was still on the nightstand where you left it. His name sat at the top when you picked it up, a few texts from the night before and one from earlier that morning. You opened them and scrolled through properly this time.
Lando: you still upLando: today was a bit of a messLando: theyโre still on it
A little later heโd sent another.
Lando: i wanted to call but it was chaosLando: iโll try you in the morning
And then, more recent:
Lando: you awake
You read it again before you typed back.
You: just woke up
He answered straight away.
Lando: yeah?
Lando: you sleep okay?
You glanced at the time.ย
You: like the deadYou: youโre busy?
Lando: a bit yeahLando: quali later
You: thought soย
There was a pause before the next one came through.
Lando: iโll call you after yeah
You: okayYou: good luck
Lando: thanks
You set your phone back on the nightstand and got up.
You showered, then pulled on black yoga pants and his hoodie, sleeves falling past your hands when you pushed them through. You went into the kitchen after and made eggs and toast, ate it standing at the counter, then left the plate in the sink.
You rolled your mat out in the living room in front of the windows, the light coming in low across the floor, and moved through it without holding anything too long, shifting from one position to the next before you were really done with it. When you finished, you left the mat where it was.
Laundry after.
You dragged the basket into the living room, dumped it onto the couch, and reached for the remote before you started folding. You put qualifying on, the sound filling the room, commentary running over the engine noise while you worked through the pile, one piece at a time, smoothing things out and stacking them beside you.
You were half watching it at first, glancing up between folds, tracking the times as they came in without really thinking about it. They cut through the usual shots, cars on track, garages, pit lane, and then to him, helmet off, talking to someone just out of frame with one hand braced against the car like heโd been there all morning.
You looked up properly then and didnโt look away when the commentary shifted.
โThere were questions about how the Silverstone moment might affect him, but he looks completely settled this weekend.โ
Your hands slowed where they were in your lap, the shirt half folded.
โThat moment involving the McLaren communications rep has been a talking point over the last couple of weeks.โ
You muted it.
The room went quiet, the picture still moving in front of you, him still on screen, still talking, still exactly the same.
You finished folding the shirt in your hands, set it down on the pile, and kept watching.
Your phone sat on the cushion beside you.
And then you grabbed it, opening Twitter before your brain could tell you what a mistake you were about to make.
Your feed was already full of it, his name over and over, clips, screenshots, people talking like they all had something to say. You opened the first one you saw and it was the clip, the same one youโd already watched a thousand times over, just tighter, slowed a little, paused at the worst possible second like that was the only part that mattered.
You backed out and went into the next thing, a thread sitting at the top, thousands of likes, still climbing. Someone had pulled together everything they could find, your name, your job, a screenshot of your LinkedIn with your photo next to it like that explained anything.
You opened it anyway.
Replies stacked under it faster than you could read.
@paddocktalker
mclaren need to get a grip this is embarrassing
@sector3heroย
she knew exactly what she was doing donโt be stupid
@papayaburner
ย imagine risking all that for her
@f1throwaway22 heโs in a title fight and this is what heโs doing
You kept scrolling, more photos showing up the further down you went, things pulled from everywhere, tagged posts, old pictures, angles you didnโt even remember being taken, all of it dragged into one place like it had always been there.
Someone had posted a picture from a work thing, you half turned, drink in your hand, laughing at something off camera, the caption twisted into something it wasnโt.
@gridwatch yeah real professional
@turnoneincident you can tell what sheโs like straight away
You hovered on it for a second, then kept going.
Another one, a picture from years ago, something you hadnโt thought about in forever, zoomed in, your face circled like it needed pointing out.
@tyrewarmup
this her??
@maxvbabygirl
no fucking way
@sector2slow
he downgraded so bad
Your grip tightened around the phone as you kept scrolling, more of it, more people talking like they knew you, like they had any idea what they were looking at, reducing it down to something small enough to pick apart. It wasnโt even the same tone anymore, less jokes, less guessing, people had decided. Someone had your LinkedIn open again, your name under it, your title, replies stacked underneath like it explained everything.
@brandriskdaily
ย this is exactly why teams shouldnโt blur professional lines
@gridethics
she knew the position she was in and did it anyway
@papayaboardroom
mclaren let this get messy and now itโs on her
You scrolled past it, then stopped, then went back to it like you hadnโt meant to. Another one had your photo next to his, side by side, like it was something to compare.
@apexmetrics
you can see the difference in class immediately
@sectoranalysis
this is a downgrade in every sense
@pitstrategyhub
this is going to follow her career forever
That one sat there, you read it twice, then pushed yourself up without really thinking about it, phone still in your hand as you walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed the first bottle you saw and twisted the cork off before you even closed the door again. You came back and dropped into the same spot on the couch, tucking one leg under you, the laundry still piled beside you like you hadnโt moved at all, and took a drink straight from the bottle before you looked back down at your phone.
You kept going.
More threads, more replies, the same clip in different versions, different captions trying to say the same thing in a new way, your name sitting in all of it like it belonged there. You took another drink, barely registering it this time, your thumb slowing just enough that you were actually reading it instead of skimming past it, letting it sit instead of backing out.
The TV was still on in front of you, muted, him still moving through it, working, focused, exactly where he was supposed to be, and you were sitting there on the couch with your phone in your hand and the bottle resting against your leg, wondering if that one moment had been enough to turn you into this, something people could pass around and pick apart, something that would follow you long after it stopped meaning anything to anyone else.
__
An hour later, you were past the point of pretending you were fine, the wine sitting heavy, your head off, everything a little slower and a little louder at the same time.
Your phone rang.
You grabbed it too fast, almost dropping it before you got it to your ear.
โHello.โ
โHey,โ he said, and then, โWhat are you doing?โ
โNothing.โ
โYeah?โ
โYeah.โ
You shifted on the couch, pressing your fingers into your temple like it might steady you.
โYou alright?โ he asked.
โIโm fine.โ
You could hear it in the way he went quiet for a second.
โYou donโt sound fine.โ
โI am,โ you said, but it slipped. โIโm just tired.โ
He let it sit there for a second.
โP1,โ he said, like he was trying to keep it normal. โPole. Front row lockout.โ
โI know,โ you cut in, too quick. โFastest lap in Q3, pole position, McLaren one two. I watched it. I know.โ
โโฆOkay,โ he said. โSo whatโs going on?โ
โNothing,โ you said again, quieter this time. โCan we just talk about something else? Youโve got a race tomorrow.โ
โNo,โ he said. โNot if you sound like this. Whatโs wrong?โ
You let out a breath that turned into a laugh and then into something else.
โTheyโre eating me alive,โ you said.
โWhat?โ
You pulled the phone away and put him on speaker, your thumb clumsy on the screen as you opened Twitter again.
โJust listen,โ you said.
You didnโt have to look for anything.
โโThis is exactly why teams shouldnโt blur professional lines,โโ you read, stumbling slightly as you scrolled. โโShe knew the position she was in and did it anyway.โโ
โHey,โ he said, sharper now. โYou donโt need to read that.โ
You kept going.
โโYou can see the difference in class immediately.โโ Your voice started to shake. โโThis is going to follow her career forever.โโ
โStop,โ he said. โStop reading it.โ
โTheyโve got my LinkedIn up,โ you said over him, words starting to blur together. โMy job, my face next to it, like thatโs enough, like thatโs all it takes. Theyโve got pictures from years ago and theyโre just picking it apart.โ
You swallowed hard, your breath catching.
โYouโre out there racing,โ you said, pushing through it, faster now. โNo one is saying anything about you. Youโre fine. Youโre on pole. Youโre doing your job and theyโre tearing me apart for the same thing like Iโm the only one in it.โ
โI know itโs not fair,โ he said immediately.
โNo, itโs not,โ you snapped. โItโs not even close.โ
There was a pause.
โHave you been drinking?โ he asked, quieter now.
You let out a shaky breath that almost turned into a laugh.
โThat is not the point,โ you said. โThatโs not even a little bit the point.โ
โI know,โ he said quickly. โIโm just trying to understand whatโs going on with you.โ
โThereโs nothing to understand,โ you cut in, your voice rising and then breaking. โThereโs nothing you can say thatโs going to fix this when Iโm sitting here by myself with all of it, acting like a completely different person, feeling like a completely different person, and I canโt even go back to work because of it.โ
You stopped, your hand coming up to your face, your breathing uneven.
โI donโt even know what we are,โ you said, quieter now, and it cracked. โI donโt know what this is and they all think they do and theyโre just deciding it for me.โ
He didnโt answer right away.
โHey,โ he said, softer now. โJust breathe for a second, yeah.โ
You shook your head, crying now.
โI am breathing,โ you said, words slipping. โIโm sitting here and theyโre all just saying it like itโs fact, like this is what I am now, and itโs not fair.โ
โI know,โ he said. โI know itโs not fair. You donโt have to sit there and read it. Just put it down.โ
โI canโt,โ you said, your voice breaking again. โI canโt. Itโs everywhere.โ
โDelete all of the apps again,โ he said. โJust get off of them, yeah. Go lie down. Iโll stay on the phone with you.โ
You let out a breath that shook.
โNo,โ you said, quieter now. โJust focus on tomorrow. You have a race. Just focus on that.โ
โIโm not hanging up on you like this.โ
โIโm fine,โ you said quickly, even though you were crying. โSeriously. Just leave it. Iโm fine.โ
โDonโt do that.โ
โIโll talk to you after,โ you said, the words running together again. โJust go. Itโs fine.โ
You hung up before he could stop you.
You sat there for a second, phone still in your hand, then got up, walking back to your room without turning anything off in the living room.ย
You crawled into bed still wearing his hoodie, pulling the covers over yourself, and it hit all at once, your breathing uneven, your chest tight, everything catching up to you at once.
You didnโt try to stop it.
You just cried until you wore yourself out and fell asleep.
__
Your phone was ringing when you woke up.
You stayed there for a second, eyes still closed, head heavy, the sound cutting through everything in a way that made you wince.
It kept going.
You reached for it without looking, dragging it closer through the blankets before you got it to your ear.
โHello.โ
โHey.โ
You blinked at the ceiling, trying to get your bearings, and then it all came back at once, fast enough that it made your stomach turn.
โOh my god,โ you said, pushing yourself up, already talking. โIโm sorry about last night. I shouldnโt have said any of that. I donโt even know why I did that, I justโฆ I was upset and that wasnโt fair, especially the night before a race, I just dumped all of that on you and that was completely out of line.โ
โWait a secโโ
You ignored him and kept going.
โI sounded insane. I know I did. I just lost it for a second and I shouldnโt have, I shouldnโt have said any of that to you.โ
โHey.โ
You didnโt stop.
โI mean it, that was completely out of character for me and I know you didnโt need that, not yesterday, I justโโ
โI really need for you to shut the fuck up for a second.โ
You actually stopped.
โWhat?โ
โJust stop talking for a second,โ he said. โYeah?โ
You frowned, still trying to catch up.
โGo open the door.โ
You blinked.
โWhat?โ
โThe door,โ he said. โGo open it.โ
You sat there for a second, staring at nothing.
โWhat are you talking about?โ
โJust open the door, okay?โ
You pushed the covers off and got up, your head still off, your heart starting to pick up in a way you didnโt understand yet.
โWhatโs going on?โ you asked, already moving.
โJust open it,โ he said.
You walked down the hall, phone still pressed to your ear, your hand finding the handle without really thinking about it.
You pulled it open.
He was standing there.
Phone in his hand, looking at you like this had been obvious the entire time.
You just stared at him.
โWhat are you doing here?โ
โI told you,โ he said. โLet me in.โ
You didnโt move right away.
โThe race,โ you said, like that was the only part your brain would land on. โWhat time even is it?โ
โP2 and half seven.โ
โI slept that long and youโre here?โ
โYeah.โ
You stepped back automatically, still holding the door open, still looking at him like if you stared long enough it might make more sense.
He walked past you like it wasnโt a question.
You turned, watching him move through your space like it was normal for him to be here.ย
โYou just flew here?โ you said.
โPretty much.โ
โLando, thatโs insane.โ
He looked at you like that was obvious.
โYou were gone last night,โ he said.
โI know, I said Iโm sorry, I shouldnโt have done that, I shouldnโt have put that on you before a race, that was completely out of line, I justโโ
โStop,โ he said.
You shut up immediately this time.
โStop apologising,โ he said. โJust stop.โ
You blinked at him.
โIโm serious,โ he added. โI didnโt come here for that.โ
Your throat tightened before you could stop it.
โYou shouldnโt have come,โ you said, even though you were already stepping closer. โYou had a race today, youโve got things to do, you canโt just leave and come here.โ
โI can,โ he said. โI did.โ
You shook your head, but it didnโt really land.
โIโm fine,โ you said.
He looked at you for a second.
โNo youโre not.โ
โI am.โ
โYou were crying last night and then hung up on me,โ he said. โYouโre not fine.โ
You didnโt have anything to say to that.
Your face justโฆ went.
He saw it happen.
Then he stepped forward, closing the space between you before you could start talking again.
You didnโt even think about it, just went straight into him when he reached for you, your hands fisting into the front of his shirt, your face pressed hard into his shoulder like you needed something solid to hold onto.
He caught you easily, one arm coming around your back, the other up at the back of your neck, steadying you when you leaned your full weight into him.
You didnโt stop to breathe before it came out.
โI miss being Sheela,โ you said into his shoulder, the words muffled, running together. โI miss us in Miami, I miss the cats in Italy, I miss us in Italy, I miss the stupid music you blast all the time, I miss the garage, I miss the stress you put me through with your big mouth, I miss the jetlag.โ
Your grip tightened.
โI fucking miss you.โ
He didnโt interrupt you, just held you there, his hand pressing more firmly at the back of your neck like he was keeping you right where you were.
โYeah,โ he said quietly, โI know.โ
He didnโt let you pull away.
You stayed there, face pressed into his shoulder, your breathing uneven, your hands still gripping his shirt like you thought he might disappear if you let go.
His hand moved up your back slowly, not rushing it, just steady, like he was waiting for you to come back to yourself.
โYou done,โ he asked quietly.
You let out a breath that shook.
โNo.โ
โAlright,โ he said. โStay there then.โ
You huffed something that almost sounded like a laugh, your forehead shifting against his neck, but you didnโt move.
He tilted his head slightly, his cheek brushing your hair.
โI missed you too,โ he said, simple, like it didnโt need anything else.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still in his shirt, your face a mess.
โYou actually came here,โ you said, like you were still trying to catch up to it.
He didnโt hesitate.
โYeah.โ
You searched his face for a second, like you were waiting for him to take it back.
He didnโt.
โOkay,โ you said, softer now, like you didnโt quite know what to do with that.
He watched you for a second.
He pulled you back in, tighter this time, his hand settling at the back of your neck again, pressing you into him like he wasnโt letting you spiral off somewhere else.
โAll of that you just said,โ he added. โIt didnโt go anywhere.โ
Your grip tightened again.
โDoesnโt feel like that,โ you muttered.
โI know,โ he said. โThatโs why Iโm here.โ
You stayed there for a second, your face still pressed into his shoulder, your breathing not quite steady yet.
Then you pulled back.
Not far. Just enough to look at him.
โYou canโt just show up and say that,โ you said.
โWhy not?โ
โBecause itโs not that simple.โ
โIt is to me,โ he said.
You shook your head slightly, searching his face.
โNo, itโs not,โ you said. โWe said weโd figure it out. Outside of the entire mess weโve gone through.โ
โI know,โ he said.
You searched his face, like you were trying to find where this was going before he said it.
โIโm not confused,โ he added.
โYou should be,โ you said. โThis is messy. Itโs your career, itโs my job, itโsโโ
โI donโt care.โ
โYou should.โ
โI donโt,โ he said again. โIโve done all of that. Iโve thought about it. Iโve looked at every angle youโre trying to look at right now.โ
You went quiet.
โI told you what this was,โ he said. โYou just didnโt want to hear it yet.โ
Your chest tightened.
โYou donโt get to just decide that,โ you said.
โI didnโt,โ he said. โWe did.โ
โWhen?โ
He let out a short breath, almost a laugh, like he couldnโt believe you were asking that.
โMiami,โ he said.
You opened your mouth to argue it and nothing came out.
He watched it happen.
โYou think that was nothing,โ he went on, quieter now. โYou think I just do that and walk away from it like itโs nothing.โ
โThatโs not what I said.โ
โIt is,โ he said. โEvery time you try to turn this into something temporary or question how I feel, thatโs what youโre saying.โ
You shook your head, but it didnโt land.
โIโm trying to be realistic.โ
โAnd Iโm telling you I donโt want realistic,โ he said. โI want you.โ
That stopped you.
He didnโt look away.
โI donโt care about the job part right now,โ he added. โI donโt care about what people are saying or what it looks like or how it fits into anything else. I care about the fact that you were crying last night and I couldnโt do anything about it.โ
Your throat tightened.
Silence sat between you for a second.
โIโm not doing this halfway,โ he said again, softer now but no less certain. โIโm not going back to pretending this is just work or just something that happened in a few cities and thatโs it.โ
You swallowed.
โAnd you donโt get to miss me like that,โ he added, โand then tell me weโre nothing.โ
โIโve been there,โ he continued quietly. โ Every time youโre not with me. Itโs not the same.โ
โI know youโre trying to make it make sense,โ he said. โBut Iโm not interested in it making sense if it means walking away from you.โ
There was a second where it couldโve gone either way, where you couldโve said something else, asked another question, tried to pull it back into something that made sense.
You didnโt.
Your hand slid up into his hair instead, fingers tightening just enough to pull him down to you, and you kissed him before you could think about it too much.
It wasnโt careful, it wasnโt slow. It was everything youโd been holding onto for weeks, all of it hitting at once, your other hand gripping tighter at his shirt as you pressed into him like you needed to make sure he wasnโt going anywhere.
He didnโt hesitate, his hand coming straight to your waist, pulling you in properly, closing whatever space was left like heโd been waiting for you to do exactly that.
You made a small sound into his mouth without meaning to, breath catching, and he felt it, his grip tightening in response, his other hand sliding up to your neck, steadying you when you leaned into him harder.
There was nothing hesitant about it, no second guessing, just that same thing youโd both been circling finally landing.
You broke just enough to breathe, your forehead brushing his for half a second, your fingers still caught in his hair.
โOkay,โ you said, quieter now, more to yourself than anything else.
He didnโt answer, he just pulled you back in again.
I have no motivation to write today. Going back to work has kicked my ass, and I donโt want to slop down a bunch of shit in an effort to stay updated and keep engagement going. I would much rather wait until my head is clear and deliver A+ content aka what yโall deserve. Promise Iโm trying my best ๐ซถ๐ป
(Fr though Iโm an extremely busy nurse/mom (TMI I know) so my time is not mine rn. I was on vacay for two weeks and thatโs when the massive updates kept coming, but Iโm trying to get one out this weekend)
sometimes I accidentally like yโallโs comments and reply to comments from my main and it makes me feel like Iโm a mistress exposing myself to someoneโs wife.