The door slammed shut behind us. My body was still buzzing from the hours of practice, the kind of exhaustion that’s equal parts satisfying and punishing. I saw her dropping her duffle bag on the floor.

“Long day?” I asked, a small grin tugging at my lips.

She shot me a look over her shoulder. “You’re kidding, right?” she said. “I’ve been running sprints for 4 hours. Your day doesn’t even come close.”

I raised my hands in mock surrender. “Hey, driving a car at 300 km/h is no walk in the park.”

She snorted, heading toward the kitchen. “Sure, Norris. Let me know when your legs feel like they’re about to fall off.”

I followed her, leaning against the counter as she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. She looked exhausted.

“That’s the problem with you runners,” I teased. “You think you’re the only ones who know what hard work feels like.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you think just because you can handle a steering wheel, you’re some kind of superhero.”

I laughed, shaking my head. This was us. Friends, but most of the times more than that. Always trading jabs, toeing the line between playful and something more. But it wasn’t just jokes, and we both knew it.

“Still,” I said after a pause, “you were incredible today.”

Her smirk faded. “You think so?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know much about running, but I know effort when I see it.”

Her eyes softened. “Thanks,” she muttered, almost too quietly to hear.

I stepped closer. “You’re too hard on yourself sometimes, you know that?”

She sighed and leaned back against the counter, her arms brushing against mine.

“Lando,” she said finally, “what are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But whatever it is… it works, doesn’t it?”

She studied me for a long moment. “Yeah,” she said. “It does”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Good,” I said, and wrapped my arms around her. “Because I don’t think I’m ready to stop”

She shook her head. “You’re impossible”

“And you’re stuck with me.”