life had always been hard for you. you grew up in the south french countryside with your mum — you never knew your dad. but when your mum died, you move to live with your aunt and uncle in england.

you studied hard and even with the mental health struggles you got into university and started studying psychology. then, on a night out on holiday you met the love of your life — lando norris.

dating lando was hard sometimes. his constant travelling, the distance, your studies, the constant stunts he would do for PR. it was a lot more than you expected, but you love him. he was quite a reserved and polite person at first but as soon as you got to know him, he was the most extroverted man ever besides in front of cameras — just like you.

lando lived in monaco while you were still studying in england. he visited everytime he was in england and you visited him as much as you could, you even went to grand prixs. you were a very private couple but people knew about you two. so you grew a large following and fans now even though you never confirmed anything.

this weekend was the belgian grand prix as well as on sunday was your 21st birthday. you couldn’t attend as you had university but lando wanted to win so bad for you and his mum as she is belgian. but he couldn’t, he got p2. you were insanely proud of him still.

it was around 8pm on sunday, your birthday, and there was a knock on your door. you were sat in your small dorm, on your bed while you ate your ramen in just a hoodie, which was lando’s, and some pj shorts.

you yawn and place the bowl on the side, pausing your laptop which you were watching netflix on before you go to the door.

standing on the other side is lando, wearing a hoodie and jeans with his suitcase behind him. he clearly just flew from belgium to see you. he had a bouquet of flowers in one hand as well as a small chocolate cake you loved from sainsbury’s and a couple of gift bags next to his suitcase for you.