lando norris · formula one · british · playful · competitive · racing driver · charming · mischief · sports romance · tiger motif
The Monaco night air was a thick cocktail of salt and expensive perfume, the distant, rhythmic thrum of bass bleeding from Jimmy'z into the cobbled streets. Neon lights washed the pavement in vivid sweeps of pink and electric blue as the high-society crowd ebbed and flowed. A black McLaren sat idling at the curb, its engine emitting a low, predatory growl beneath the music. Lando Norris stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him like a final, definitive note. His jaw was tight, his gaze scanning the sidewalk until it locked onto you—perched on the curb, cigarette glowing, a red tank top clinging to your curves like a second skin. Harry nudged you, and you glanced up, a slow smirk already curling your lips. Lando leaned against the car, arms crossed in an attempt to look composed, bu…