It’s always the little things.

Never the grand gestures, never the loud drama.

With Lando, it’s different.

Always.

You first noticed it with the hallway light. It flickered again, twice, just for a second. You said it out loud while Lando was sitting on the couch, phone in hand. “I need to change that bulb later.”

Ten minutes after your shower, when you came back, the light was steady.

Warm. Calm. No more flickering.

You looked up and furrowed your brow slightly. And then you saw it, the note on the kitchen counter.

Quickly scribbled. So very him.

Had to go. Carlos and Rebecca had a fight, he needs some man support. I changed the bulb. Love you. — L

You held the paper in your hand and smiled. Your heart ached in that quiet, beautiful way that has nothing to do with pain.

More with missing.

That’s how it is with him.

Always.

Like a few days later, when the fridge started leaking. You’d just sent him a picture. Not to ask for help. Just to complain to someone who actually listens.

The next morning, there was a knock on your door.

A man in a blue jumpsuit, charming smile, British accent. “Hello. I was told to not let you near this fridge with a screwdriver.”

You just rolled your eyes and smiled.

Of course.

Classic Lando.

In another country, mid season and still..still he’s thinking about your leaking fridge.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked the man. But he only smiled and shook his head. “Mister Norris already paid. Have a nice day.”

You stood in the doorway, watching the van drive down the street.

Your heart heavy and light at once. You knew you’d call him later. To complain, obviously, half serious, half fond.

And you already knew what he’d say. He’d laugh, maybe a little tired, somewhere between meetings and then say “I know you can handle it on your own. I just don’t want you to have to. Not when I can do it for you.”

And you were right. That’s how he is.

Always.

And that’s exactly why you miss him in the little things.

In the hallway light. In the leeking from the fridge. In every small movement where you suddenly think, 'He was here. And I didn’t even notice.' ___

You get home late, the weight of work still sitting on your shoulders. Immediately, there’s that feeling.

Something’s different.

The hallway is clean. Even the shoes are neatly placed. The floor has been cleaned, and the air smells like freshly washed laundry.

You stop in the living room.

The bookshelf, the one that’s been wobbling for days, as if it wasn’t made of wood but memories, has been replaced.

A new one.

Solid. Beautiful in its simplicity.

And the folders that had been lying on the floor for days, are now organized. Even color organized.

You’d meant to fix it. Every time you walked past it.

But you never did.

You’ve been working a lot lately.

Long shifts. Patients, documents, surgeries.

At night you’re too tired to eat properly, to think, to even see properly. Only his last call echoes in your mind. “I’ll be back Tuesday." he had said.

You smile and then you notice the TV.

It’s on, but not playing anything. Just the Netflix screen. Images from random series and movies scrolling silently, but somehow full of life.

“Hey.” You hear behind you.

You turn and there he is.

Lando.

Hair a little messy from the flight, face tired, but eyes soft, bright, all on you.

You walk to him without thinking. Arms around him, your face in his neck.

His scent is familiar. His warmth is real.

“I missed you…” You mumble.

He kisses your temple. “I missed you too..” He says softly.

You look up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were already here? I thought-” The doorbell interrupts you.

You frown, confused, glancing toward the door. He shrugs, grinning.

“I ordered pizza…I..figured we’d make us a nice little Tuesday night. I mean...only if you want to.” He says, already heading toward the door, looking back at you over his shoulder.