oblivious [l.n.]

39

lando's pov

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The annoying knock on the door woke me up once again from my sleep.

"Go away!" I groaned out in complaint.

"Get up. It's three in the afternoon."

Not responding anything, I sat up in my bed, rubbing my eyes as they tried to adjust to the light coming in through the window. "Cunt." I mumbled as I walked around the room, searching for a shirt through the mess of clothes on the floor.

Opening my bedroom door, I came face to face with Max as I threw on the first shirt I found. Taking a look into my room, he shook his head in disappointment. "It's disgusting in there mate"

"My room, my mess." I replied walking into the kitchen and grabbing a pitcher of water.

Max trailed after me as I headed towards the balcony.

"Lando, you can't keep doing this."

I ignored him as I poured water gently over Giana's plants, careful not to overwater them. Max stood at the sliding door, watching me wearily.

"I'm fine." I said when I was done watering all of her plants.

Gi wouldn't want to come back home to dead plants.

As much as I tried to ignore Max's presence behind me, I could feel his eyes lingering on me as I moved around the balcony.

It was getting annoying being watched all the time as if I was going to crack under pressure or something. My family called me constantly after I talked to my mother about the situation. Carlos was on my ass the entire race weekends. He wouldn't leave me alone either. It was exhausting. I thought that once I was back home I would be left alone but no. I don't know who told him, but next thing I knew, Carlos Sainz bothering me was replaced with Max Fewtrell.

I kept up my performance in the car, I responded during interviews, I smiled for pictures, I did my job. What else did they want from me?

"You think this is fine? You're not eating well, you stay holed up in your room, and you won't talk to us." Max kept following after me as I walked back to my room, having left the pitcher on the kitchen counter.

"There's nothing to talk about" I responded.

"Lando" He pleaded, hoping I would speak to him or give him anything other than the silence he's been getting since he arrived.

"I said I was fine." I replied, letting my room door slam behind me once more.

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max's pov

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I watched as Lando slammed the door behind him. My patience was running seriously low with this man.

Shaking my head, I walked to the kitchen. Opening random cabinets and the fridge, I gathered ingredients to make him something to eat.

The apartment felt really empty.

You could feel how heavy the atmosphere was without Giana's presence.

If I felt the change, I knew Lando felt it ten times worse. He was an absolute wreck right now. It got worse now that he's just at home due to the break in his racing schedule. The only times he left his room was to take care of things around the apartment or to use the restroom.

The only times I got to see him were when he was walking around the apartment either watering Giana's plants or dusting her books or cleaning something. He didn't say what he was doing but I could tell.

He wanted to keep things just the way Giana liked it. Neat and organized.

The one thing he wouldn't do was groceries. That was practically my chore at this point. If I didn't bang on his door holding a plate of food until he opened the door, he wouldn't eat.

Even then, he always gave me the plates back half full.

It's like I was physically watching him shut down.

Carlos had told me what had happened after the race in France. I had tried to go into Lando's streaming room to take a look at the rest of the helmets but that door had been locked. He also explained the rest of the situation. He had asked me to keep watch over him since he couldn't. Carlos had hoped that I would be able to get through to him.

At the end of the first day staying here, I knew it would be nearly impossible. There was no getting through to Lando right now. I know his family is constantly checking in on him but he's pushing them away too.

Right now, the only person that could get to him in an instant was out of reach.

As I once again finished making another plate of food Lando wouldn't eat, an idea came to mind.

I had tried to get through to Lando through the nice way and he refused to listen. If he kept going like this, he was going to get sick. From a lack of sun, from a lack of food, from a lack of socialization, from anything. I needed someone to force the idiot to listen and to stop shutting himself away.

That is when I figured out exactly who I had to call.

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