You were both friends at first.

That was all, and that was what it was supposed to be. But then Bahrain came along.

You don't usually drink, but something was different that night. Maybe it was the heat, the music, or the way Lando looked at you with that stupid, teasing grin.

You took your first sip of alcohol, then another, and before you knew it, the words were slipping out.

"You're my type."

Just like that. Simple. No hesitation, no pondering.

Lando blinked in surprise before his lips curved into a slow grin.

"Oh, yeah?" He asked, leaning forward ever so slightly.

"Yeah."

It was supposed to be nothing.

Just a drunken moment, a fleeting confession. But here you are, twelve months later.

You wake up, his arm over you, his breath warm on your neck.

The truth is, falling for him feels like a drug.

Dizzying. Addictive. Impossible to shake.

And you know love when it hits. And this?

This is love.

The early morning light slips through the curtains, casting everything in a soft glow.

You should have seen it coming, the night it happened, that it wouldn't just happen once.

And maybe you did.

Maybe you just ignored it.

Lando shifts next to you and opens his eyes, his arm still casually around your waist, his body warm against yours.

He watches you for a second, his eyes scanning your face as if he's searching for something.

You two never talk about it.

The way this feels like more, the way you catch him staring when he thinks you won’t notice.

You were supposed to be just friends, and yet…here you are.

Over and over again.

“You regret it?” He asks. His voice tired and low.