You were sitting across from Lando, the bright lights of the camera crew softly illuminating the room. The conversation was supposed to flow naturally an easy interview about his recent race but something felt… off. He wasn’t his usual animated self. Instead, his eyes seemed to wander, lingering on you longer than usual. His gaze wasn’t distant or distracted; it was focused in a way that made your stomach twist, though you couldn’t quite place why.

As you asked another question about strategy, his eyes flickered to yours, holding your gaze for just a moment too long before darting down briefly perhaps to your hands or the way you were sitting. Then, just as quickly, they returned to your face. It wasn’t judgmental, nor did it feel inappropriate, but it was enough to make you pause mid-sentence.

“Lando,” you said softly, tilting your head with a small, concerned smile. “Are you okay?”

His eyes widened slightly, as if caught off guard. “What? Uh… yeah, totally,” he stammered, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, the tips of his ears faintly pink. “Why do you ask?”