You were scrolling through photos after a night out. Slightly tipsy, still buzzing from the music and lights. You texted a friend — a close one — “love uuuu”. A routine, really. You send love to people all the time. That’s just you. Open. Warm.

You didn’t know he saw.

Lando was beside you on the couch, scrolling through his own feed when the notification popped up on your lockscreen. Just a glance. Just a flash.

He didn’t say a word.

But later that evening, you noticed the shift. He pulled away a little faster when you brushed past him in the kitchen. He stopped making small jokes under his breath. When you laughed at something on your phone, he didn’t ask what it was.

“Forgot how easy that word is for you.”