It’s late when the apartment door opens quietly. Lando pulls the hood of his sweatshirt back, tosses the car keys onto the console and exhales deeply. The race weekend is over, the adrenaline is fading, but the exhaustion doesn’t hit him until he walks down the hallway.

He expects silence.

Darkness.

But there’s a soft, yellow glow coming from the kitchen.

You’re sitting at the table. The laptop screen flickers, books are scattered everywhere, your notebook overflowing with formulas and Latin terms.

With tired yet precise movements, you draw lines, marking sentences you already know by heart but can’t stop rereading.

Your hand moves automatically across the paper. 'Sympathetic activation increases heart rate.' You underline the sentence, then highlight the word heart rate, even though almost the entire chapter already shines yellow.

Yellow for important, green for extra.

It’s your system.

Organized chaos.

You calculate blood pressure, jot down formulas, your eyes burning, but you force yourself to keep reading.

The letters are beginning to blur. Your head throbs and you haven’t eaten in hours, the tea beside you is stone cold.

Lando stands in the doorway, watching quietly. Then his voice, soft, but with that edge that comes from genuine worry. “How long have you been sitting here?”

You flinch and turn around. “Oh…you’re home. I..I don’t know. A few hours maybe.”

“A few?” He steps closer, eyes flicking over the mountain of papers. “This looks like an entire degree on one table. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to pass out.”

“I have to.” You take a deep breath, trying to sound calm. “I can’t afford mistakes. If I fail this exam..”

He pulls out the chair beside you and sits down. You feel his hand brush over your leg before resting on your knee, a touch that somehow calms you and makes everything inside you hum.

“Hey.." He says quietly. “You’ll pass. But not if you destroy yourself doing it.”

You swallow, your throat burns, everything burns. “I don’t have a choice, I’m already behind. And everyone else—”

“They’re struggling too." He cuts in softly. “But you..you forget sometimes that you’re human, not a machine.”

He picks up your cup, feels it with his thumb.

Cold.

Ice cold.

“It’s cold. How long has this been sitting here? Have you even eaten?” His voice is calm, but tight.

You blink, caught off guard by the question, as if it hadn’t even occurred to you. “Uh…I think around noon?”

“Noon?” He repeats the word, testing it, then shakes his head. “That was almost twelve hours ago, baby. I drive 370km/h on a track and still don’t look half as exhausted as you do right now.”

“I have the exam soon. I have to do this. If I don’t—”

“If you don’t, then what?” His voice sharpens slightly. “The world ends?”

You press your lips together. Your throat is dry, your eyes burn. “I just don’t know if I can do it." You whisper finally. “Everyone else seems to get it, and I…I can’t keep up. I.."

You stop. The words get stuck in your throat. You don’t want to sound weak, but the air isn’t enough to hide it anymore.

Lando reacts immediately. His hand still rests gently on your knee as he leans a little closer, his gaze steady.

“Don’t cry." He murmurs, almost pleading. “Please. You’re doing amazing. Even if you can’t see it right now.”

You shake your head, the trembling in your chest is too much to fight. “I’m so scared. I can’t think straight. Everything’s blurring together.”

He reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, careful, as if he’s touching something fragile. “I know that feeling when you give everything you have and still think it’s not enough. But trust me, it is. You are.” He whispers.

“You’re doing more than enough. You can do this. Just…not like this. Not if you lose yourself along the way.”

You breathe shakily, trying to steady yourself.

He stands slowly, picks up the cup and looks at you. “I’ll make you a new tea and then you’re eating something. I’ll cook for us and you lay down okay?"