i forget you aren't mine - lando norris - Chapter 14: Chapter 14
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"seven years will cut through / other people like a knife..."
the next few days are perfect.
almost too perfect.
lando finds himself forgetting about the next race, the interviews, the meetings — all the things that usually fill his head. for the first time in a long time, he's not worrying about what's coming next. he's just... with her.
it's the kind of peace he's been craving.
the kind of peace he hasn't felt in a long time.
they spend their days exploring the city together, eating in small cafés, wandering through quiet streets, and laughing over shared memories.
it's simple, but it's everything.
when they're together, it's like the world fades away.
like nothing else matters except the moments they share.
and for lando, it feels like a kind of magic — one that's hard to put into words, but one he can't seem to shake.
but even in the moments when everything feels right, there's still that undercurrent of reality.
the clock is ticking.
they don't have forever.
and no matter how much he tries to ignore it, the thought of leaving her again is always in the back of his mind.
he's used to leaving people behind. he's used to distance. he's used to the feeling of moving from place to place, always on the go.
but now? now, it's different.
he doesn't want to leave.
he doesn't want to go back to the race track and leave her behind, even if just for a few days.
he wants to stay. to be here. with her.
but he knows he can't.
the race season waits for no one.
it's the evening before he has to leave, and they're sitting on a rooftop, watching the sun dip below the horizon. the air is cool, the city lights flickering on below them.
they're quiet for a moment, both lost in their thoughts.
"what do you think?" she asks suddenly, her voice breaking the silence.
lando turns to her, surprised. "what do you mean?"
"about... us," she says, her voice hesitant. "about this. about the distance. about everything."
he sighs, running a hand through his hair. it's a conversation he's been avoiding, but it's inevitable. it's always inevitable.
"i think..." he pauses, thinking carefully about his words. "i think it's worth it. i think we're worth it."
her eyes meet his, and there's something soft in them — like she's relieved to hear him say that. but there's still uncertainty there, too. because she knows what he knows.
the distance is never going to get easier.
"but what about when you leave?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "what happens then?"
lando feels his heart sink a little.
it's the question he's been dreading. the question that hangs over everything they've built.
"i don't know," he admits. "i wish i had an answer. i wish i could promise you it's going to be easy. but it's not. it's never going to be easy. not with my schedule. not with the time zones. not with everything pulling us in different directions."
he takes a deep breath. "but i'm not giving up. not on you. not on us."
there's a long silence after that. she's looking at him, her gaze soft but guarded, like she's trying to decide if she believes him.
finally, she speaks.
"i don't want to give up either," she says quietly. "but it's hard, lando. it's so hard."
he nods, knowing exactly what she means. because it's hard for him too.
harder than he ever expected.
"i know," he says softly. "but we can figure it out. one day at a time. that's all we can do, right?"
she doesn't say anything for a moment, just watches him. and in that silence, he can feel the weight of the world between them. the unspoken things. the doubts. the worries.
but there's something else there too.
something that's been growing between them, something that feels stronger than all the things pulling them apart.
after a moment, she reaches for his hand, threading her fingers through his. it's simple, but it feels like a promise.
"one day at a time," she agrees.
the next morning, lando wakes up early, the quiet of the room settling around him. it's still dark outside, and for a moment, he just lies there, listening to the soft sound of her breathing beside him.
he doesn't want to leave.
he doesn't want this to end.
but he knows he has to. the race schedule waits for no one.
he gets up quietly, grabbing his phone and checking his messages. there's a reminder about the flight. another email about the upcoming race.
he sighs, rubbing his eyes. he's not ready for this. not ready for the grind. not ready for the constant movement.
he's not ready to leave her.
but then he hears her stir beside him, and he turns to see her looking up at him with sleep-rumpled hair and tired eyes.
"hey," she says softly, her voice hoarse from sleep. "when do you leave?"
he swallows, trying to push the lump in his throat down.
he doesn't want to say it. doesn't want to hear the words come out of his mouth.
but he knows he has to.
"soon," he says quietly. "soon, but... i'll be back. i'll be back, okay?"
she nods, though he can see the sadness in her eyes. it's the same sadness he feels.
the sadness of knowing this moment is fleeting. that in a few hours, they'll be saying goodbye again.
they spend the rest of the morning together, but there's an underlying tension in the air — a sense of knowing that this time is limited.
they make breakfast together. share stories. laugh over small things.
but it's all tinged with the sadness of what's coming.
finally, it's time for him to go.
he grabs his bag, feeling the weight of it more than usual.
she walks him to the door, her hand in his, and for a moment, they just stand there, looking at each other.
"i'll miss you," he says, his voice thick.
"i'll miss you too," she replies, her voice steady, though her eyes are soft with emotion.
he leans down to kiss her, slow and lingering, and in that kiss, he feels everything. the love. the longing. the desire to make it work, no matter what.
he walks out of the door, but before he goes, he turns back to look at her one last time. she's standing there, watching him with those same soft eyes, and he knows — no matter what happens, he'll carry this moment with him.
the next race. the next time zone. the next airport.
it's all just part of the journey.
the next few days are perfect.
almost too perfect.
lando finds himself forgetting about the next race, the interviews, the meetings — all the things that usually fill his head. for the first time in a long time, he's not worrying about what's coming next. he's just... with her.
it's the kind of peace he's been craving.
the kind of peace he hasn't felt in a long time.
they spend their days exploring the city together, eating in small cafés, wandering through quiet streets, and laughing over shared memories.
it's simple, but it's everything.
when they're together, it's like the world fades away.
like nothing else matters except the moments they share.
and for lando, it feels like a kind of magic — one that's hard to put into words, but one he can't seem to shake.
but even in the moments when everything feels right, there's still that undercurrent of reality.
the clock is ticking.
they don't have forever.
and no matter how much he tries to ignore it, the thought of leaving her again is always in the back of his mind.
he's used to leaving people behind. he's used to distance. he's used to the feeling of moving from place to place, always on the go.
but now? now, it's different.
he doesn't want to leave.
he doesn't want to go back to the race track and leave her behind, even if just for a few days.
he wants to stay. to be here. with her.
but he knows he can't.
the race season waits for no one.
it's the evening before he has to leave, and they're sitting on a rooftop, watching the sun dip below the horizon. the air is cool, the city lights flickering on below them.
they're quiet for a moment, both lost in their thoughts.
"what do you think?" she asks suddenly, her voice breaking the silence.
lando turns to her, surprised. "what do you mean?"
"about... us," she says, her voice hesitant. "about this. about the distance. about everything."
he sighs, running a hand through his hair. it's a conversation he's been avoiding, but it's inevitable. it's always inevitable.
"i think..." he pauses, thinking carefully about his words. "i think it's worth it. i think we're worth it."
her eyes meet his, and there's something soft in them — like she's relieved to hear him say that. but there's still uncertainty there, too. because she knows what he knows.
the distance is never going to get easier.
"but what about when you leave?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "what happens then?"
lando feels his heart sink a little.
it's the question he's been dreading. the question that hangs over everything they've built.
"i don't know," he admits. "i wish i had an answer. i wish i could promise you it's going to be easy. but it's not. it's never going to be easy. not with my schedule. not with the time zones. not with everything pulling us in different directions."
he takes a deep breath. "but i'm not giving up. not on you. not on us."
there's a long silence after that. she's looking at him, her gaze soft but guarded, like she's trying to decide if she believes him.
finally, she speaks.
"i don't want to give up either," she says quietly. "but it's hard, lando. it's so hard."
he nods, knowing exactly what she means. because it's hard for him too.
harder than he ever expected.
"i know," he says softly. "but we can figure it out. one day at a time. that's all we can do, right?"
she doesn't say anything for a moment, just watches him. and in that silence, he can feel the weight of the world between them. the unspoken things. the doubts. the worries.
but there's something else there too.
something that's been growing between them, something that feels stronger than all the things pulling them apart.
after a moment, she reaches for his hand, threading her fingers through his. it's simple, but it feels like a promise.
"one day at a time," she agrees.
the next morning, lando wakes up early, the quiet of the room settling around him. it's still dark outside, and for a moment, he just lies there, listening to the soft sound of her breathing beside him.
he doesn't want to leave.
he doesn't want this to end.
but he knows he has to. the race schedule waits for no one.
he gets up quietly, grabbing his phone and checking his messages. there's a reminder about the flight. another email about the upcoming race.
he sighs, rubbing his eyes. he's not ready for this. not ready for the grind. not ready for the constant movement.
he's not ready to leave her.
but then he hears her stir beside him, and he turns to see her looking up at him with sleep-rumpled hair and tired eyes.
"hey," she says softly, her voice hoarse from sleep. "when do you leave?"
he swallows, trying to push the lump in his throat down.
he doesn't want to say it. doesn't want to hear the words come out of his mouth.
but he knows he has to.
"soon," he says quietly. "soon, but... i'll be back. i'll be back, okay?"
she nods, though he can see the sadness in her eyes. it's the same sadness he feels.
the sadness of knowing this moment is fleeting. that in a few hours, they'll be saying goodbye again.
they spend the rest of the morning together, but there's an underlying tension in the air — a sense of knowing that this time is limited.
they make breakfast together. share stories. laugh over small things.
but it's all tinged with the sadness of what's coming.
finally, it's time for him to go.
he grabs his bag, feeling the weight of it more than usual.
she walks him to the door, her hand in his, and for a moment, they just stand there, looking at each other.
"i'll miss you," he says, his voice thick.
"i'll miss you too," she replies, her voice steady, though her eyes are soft with emotion.
he leans down to kiss her, slow and lingering, and in that kiss, he feels everything. the love. the longing. the desire to make it work, no matter what.
he walks out of the door, but before he goes, he turns back to look at her one last time. she's standing there, watching him with those same soft eyes, and he knows — no matter what happens, he'll carry this moment with him.
the next race. the next time zone. the next airport.
it's all just part of the journey.
End of i forget you aren't mine - lando norris Chapter 14. Continue reading Chapter 15 or return to i forget you aren't mine - lando norris book page.