The paddock buzzed with energy—mechanics shouting, engines roaring, journalists weaving through the chaos. Lando was focused, but something felt off. He missed you. You were supposed to be in another country, tied up with work, too far to make it to this Grand Prix. You’d both accepted it.

Until you showed up.

Standing near the garage, just beyond the pit wall, your eyes met his. His breath hitched.

Helmet off, suit unzipped to his waist, he froze, stunned.

“You’re joking,” he breathed, half-smiling, half-shocked.

You shrugged, barely hiding your grin. “Surprise.”

He didn’t say anything more. Just walked straight to you and wrapped you in his arms like he’d been holding his breath for days.

And finally, he exhaled.