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[alarwynnwhispers]

🧡 ᴜɴᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ — ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 11: ᴛᴇʀᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴꜱ 🧡

ꜰ1 x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪꜱ ᴀᴜ | ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ + ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ

⚠️ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:

ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ

ꜱᴜʙᴛʟᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜰʟɪᴄᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴏʟᴜᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴅɪꜱᴄᴜꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ ꜰᴀᴛɪɢᴜᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ

ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀᴛᴇʀɴɪᴛʏ ᴅᴏᴜʙᴛ

ᴄᴏ-ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅᴀʀʏ-ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ

��ᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴄʀᴜᴛɪɴʏ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴄʏ

ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇx ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴜɴᴘᴀᴄᴋɪɴɢ (ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ, ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇ, ᴀɴxɪᴇᴛʏ)

ꜰʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏɴᴄɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴘᴀᴄɪɴɢ

It was late afternoon when they reached her apartment, Monaco light still clinging to the sky, soft and amber like honey spread over stone.

Lando didn’t follow her in right away. He paused at the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, unsure if he was welcome past it.

(Y/n) noticed. “Come in,” she said simply, unlocking the door.

Inside, it smelled faintly of citrus and fabric softener. A candle flickered on the windowsill, half-burned. The space was modest, lived in, not designed for show. A book lay spine-up on the coffee table, and a glass of ginger water sat beside it, unfinished.

Lando stood awkwardly near the coat rack as she slipped off her shoes. He rubbed the back of his neck, then finally said, “This place is… calm.”

“It’s small.”

“I didn’t mean that as a bad thing.”

She gave him a sidelong look, but her shoulders relaxed just a touch. “You want anything? Water? Tea?”

“Just… to talk.”

They ended up sitting across from each other on the couch, an ocean of space between them. Neither leaned back. The ultrasound photo lay between them, still creased at the corners.

“I’m not going to chase you around Monaco,” she said first. “I don’t want money. I don’t want tabloids. I just want… peace.”

“I get that.”

She looked at him, eyes sharper than usual. “Do you?”

Lando swallowed. “No. But I’m trying.”

A quiet moment stretched between them.

Then, he reached forward, placing both palms on his knees. “What do you want from me? Not what you don’t want. Tell me what you do want.”

(Y/n) blinked, taken aback. “I… I want a stable pregnancy. I want to keep working as long as I can. I want to not have to lie to my coworkers when I get dizzy or tired.”

He nodded.

“I want to not be constantly anxious about you showing up and acting like I tricked you.”

Lando winced. “Yeah. Okay. That’s fair.”

“I want—” she hesitated “—you to mean it. When you say you want to be here. Not because you’re a public figure. Not because you feel bad. Just because you mean it.”

Lando was silent for a long time.

“I do,” he said finally. “I mean it.”

Another beat.

“I can help with the appointments,” he added. “We can keep everything off the radar. I’ve got people who know how to keep things quiet. You don’t have to deal with the circus.”

“I’m not ashamed of it.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

She softened slightly. “I know. But I’ve been carrying this alone for weeks. I don’t want secrets. Just… privacy.”

He nodded again. “Privacy. Not secrecy. Got it.”

She leaned back, finally exhaling. “We can set boundaries. Conditions.”

“Like a truce?”

“More like a contract.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re tougher than I remember.”

“I’ve had to be.”

He looked down at the ultrasound again. “That little dot… that’s ours.”

She didn’t correct him.

“I’ll start with the basics,” he said, voice quieter now. “Transport when you need it. Appointments. Groceries if you’re too tired. I don’t want to overstep. But I want to show up.”

(Y/n) studied him.

Then she nodded. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

Lando looked up at her. “Deal.”

Outside, the sun had almost set. The sky was streaked with soft pinks and lavenders.

Inside, things were still complicated. Still fragile.

But for the first time, they weren’t entirely broken.

To be continued... 🧡

🧡 ᴜɴᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ — ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 12: ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴏᴜꜰʟᴀɢᴇ 🧡

📝 Note from the Author: Second post of the day HAHAHAHA I couldn’t help myself, the plot bunnies are running wild and I’m just holding on for dear life 🐇✨

Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog, and if you’re loving the stories so far, follow for more, the drama isn’t done with us yet 😌

With love, me 🧡

[theloulouge]

Life Lens - Entry 159

Not Our Job to Fix Others I’ve come to accept that some people are genuinely messed up and struggling with their own deep issues. It’s important for me to recognize that it’s not my job to heal or fix them. I might want to help and offer support, but ultimately, I can’t take on the responsibility of solving their problems or changing their lives for them. Everyone has their own path to walk and…