Your relationship with Lando was private, not hidden. A quiet bond built on mutual support. The glare of the spotlight, however, never sat well with you. So, when summer break rolled around, you sought solace in seclusion. Lando, ever attuned to your desires, found the perfect escape, a villa in Marlocca, perched by the sea.

The two of you lay intertwined on sun loungers, your head resting on his chest, his fingertips idly scrolling through Instagram as you lost yourself in the pages of a book. The tranquility was almost cinematic — until the uneasy sensation of being watched shattered the moment. Your gaze swept the landscape and landed on a figure hidden among the bushes. A paparazzo, squinting through the lens, had found your sanctuary.

Lando’s body tensed beneath you as he noticed the direction of your gaze. His carefree scrolling halted mid-swipe, and his arm instinctively tightened around you.

"Seriously?" he muttered under his breath, his playful tone replaced by quiet frustration.

It wasn’t rage you saw in his eyes, it was protectiveness. He was used to that, but seeing you dragged into it lit a spark of determination in him. "Stay here.” he said softly, his voice steady but firm.

Before you could respond, he was already on his feet, his pace deliberate. You watched as he exchanged words with the photographer, his stance unwavering, his gestures controlled but assertive. Though you couldn’t hear their conversation, you saw how Lando pointed toward the exit, his expression leaving no room for argument.

Minutes later, he returned to the sun loungers, his features softening as his eyes met yours. "They’re gone” he assured you, sinking back beside you with a reassuring smile. His hand found yours, and his thumb traced slow, calming circles on your skin. "I’m sorry about that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again." He leaned in close, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered softly against your forehead, before he pressed a gentle kiss there.