“lando norris trumps verstappen and wins the miami grand prix!” god. for the last two years, you had been dying to hear that

you and lando had been together the past two years, it had been rocky due to him being a name which was always in peoples mouths due to his career but you loved one another. you were each other’s rocks.

miami was one of the best days of your lives. ge stood at the top step of the podium: smiling, waving, cheering at everyone below, including you. down amongst the people, you stood with your hand in lando's mother's hand. sobbing your hearts out for your boy. obviously, the cameras had cut to you two a few times as the champagne was sprayed but all you could do was look at lando with pride.

after post-race shenanigans you could finally see him. the team was set up outside the mclaren garage for the “post podium photo” as usual when mclaren secured a podium. lando exits the media pen, still in his race suit with his sweaty curls hidden beneath his papaya hat. you stood, back turned, chatting to one of the mclaren media girls, who wanted a photo of you and lando later.

you had a black dress which went half way down your thighs; it had short sleeves which were off the shoulder and your hair was in a half up, half down with a beautiful, silk bow in. and, of course, you had some black sunglasses and heels on.

lando quickly greets his family, you still blissfully unaware of his presence, before running up to you from behind. he swiftly lifts you up (i mean it wasn't hard when you weigh nothing) his arms around your waist and spins around. after a few spins, he stops and puts you down; before you turn to face him, a large smile across your face.