TWENTY - FOUR

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LANDO is on the brink of a heart attack, but he's been trying to prepare himself since Charles gave him that pep talk earlier (He's been giving him a lot of those recently. Lando's seriously gotta pay him a visit when he gets back to Monaco.)

He was desperately waiting for Bianca to step out of the bathroom connected to his childhood bedroom, the place that had been their temporary home for an extremely eventful four days. It was a sanctuary for the two, away from the journalists and paparazzi clawing their way into their daily lives, and a haven for just the two of them alone.

Everything on this trip had been their's to keep, every memory, every experience. It was all between him and Bianca, and he wasn't going to let it slip away.

How often can you think of someone as a friend before you admit that they're more than that? Bianca had become that for Lando; a friend, yes, but that title didn't suit her anymore in his eyes. The stolen glances, the pet names, the kisses on clothing and cheeks.

Lando was never too scared of confrontation, always voicing his opinions if something was up or if he just wanted to speak his mind—and yet, he found his undoing in the form of Bianca Taylor, and this trip helped pave the way to this very moment he had been pushing away since he hugged her that night in Abu Dhabi.

The door to the bathroom unlocks, and Bianca walks out wearing some sweatpants and, unsurprisingly, yet another short-sleeve she packed for the trip, the Ferrari logo screen-printed on in washed-out colors. With her hair still wet from the shower, she wraps it in her towel to dry it.

"I need to get you a McLaren shirt as soon as I can," Lando jokes, holding his head high at the sight of her in the clothing representing a team that was not his own. "Red doesn't suit you quite as well as papaya."

Bianca ha's, hanging the towel up on the door of the bathroom before closing it shut, "If it helps, it's just a sleep-shirt." She finds her place on the bed next to Lando, crossing her legs and looking up at him, blue eyes meeting his own. "I'm officially a McLaren girl anyways, according to the media."

The media, He thinks with a scoff. The media would throw a fit at the conversation I'm about to have with you tonight.

Lando kicks his feet up from the side of the bed to the top of the mattress, getting comfortable as he attempts to wipe away any sort of anxiety that has been attacking him since he talked with Charles.

Okay, yeah, he decided he was gonna tell her that he wants to turn this PR relationship into something real. Great. Unfortunately, he didn't put as much thought into how he was going to do it, since he was too caught up in the excitement and/or fear of putting the plan into motion.

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