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“Ria- I’m begging you, I need you to look after Talia.” Lando pleaded with desperation, a duffle bag swinging from his shoulder as he bent down to pick up his daughter.
“You know I would any other time but I can’t, I’m way too sick and I’ll end up passing a nasty bug on to her!” Maria responded apologetically, her voice accompanied by a nasal tone, crackling down the telephone line.
“You’re my only hope!” He responded exasperatedly. “Please, do you know anyone else who could help? I need to leave in a few minutes, this is such an important race for McLaren. I need to be there, they’ll have my ass if I don’t turn up!” Lando practically wailed as he rushed around the hotel room. With his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, dashing over to the suitcase as he swiftly packed the remainder of his daughter’s essentials bag.
“Max and Pietra are away in Rome, the rest of them are filming the new video in Scotland, they’ll never make it in time now.” Maria said, a sympathetic tone held just before letting out some deep, sharp coughs.
“God, what am I going to do?” Lando groaned loudly, abandoning the duffle bag with a thud and freeing the phone that was wedged between his shoulder and ear. Placing it on speaker, he carefully set it on the bed next to him. Meanwhile, his daughter perched on his hip tightly wrapped around him began playfully toying with the curls on his head. She let out sweet giggles around the dummy lodged in her mouth.
“I don’t think you have much of a choice, if I could help you, I would. What about your family?” Maria suggested, an ounce of hope bubbling in her words.
The Brit exhaled deeply, his eyes flickering over to his daughter. “They’ll never make it in time either. I’m fucked, they’re going to fire me if I don’t turn up.”
“So turn up! Take her with you, could anyone at McLaren help you out? You know they still have a soft spot for you!”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. Not many people knew about Talia, him and Oscar had decided after adopting Talia as a baby that they would do their utmost best to keep her out of the spotlight. She was so small, so kind-hearted and so oblivious to the world, the brightness in a dark room. Lando had laid his eyes on her and decided no harm would ever come to her, even if it was just a silly comment from someone online. Only a select few had known about Talia- friends, family and certain members of the team, no one else had any business knowing.
Lando dreaded the idea of both of them strolling into the Paddock, being spotted by a photographer and a member of the McLaren team passing information to the media. They had guarded their little ray of sunshine from public scrutiny for so long, and he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone interrupting the privacy of their small family.
But there was at least someone in the paddock who would be willing to help. “Yeah… I think someone might be able to help.” Lando spoke with a determined mind. “I’ve gotta go, Ria. I’ll speak to you later.” Without another word, he ended the call, turning his attention to his daughter.
He didn’t exactly have much of a choice, it was either stay home with Talia or take him with her and beg someone to watch her.
“Talia, sweetheart, you’ve got to come with me to work, okay?” Lando’s voice held a gentle tone as he reached up, sweeping her hair away from her face. Though her hair was braided, Lando had done it in a rush with her hair still sticking up in certain places.
“Why I go to daddy’s work?” Talia mumbled, her words slightly hindered by the bright pink dummy in her mouth. Fortunately for Lando, he was a master in the language of children.
“Because daddy has to work! Auntie Ria can’t play with you today, so we’re going to go play at work!” Lando gave her a radiant smile, to which she returned instantly. “Take your dummy out, sweetie.”
Talia popped the dummy out of her mouth with enthusiasm. “Is papa racing?” Her eyes lit up with joy. “I wanna watch papa race!” Pretending to grip a steering wheel, she turned it dramatically and thrashed around in Lando’s hold. She was making race car noises, which- to Ladno- sounded more like an odd mixture of vowels.
Every Sunday, while both of her father’s were busy working, Talia would watch the race from the comfort of wherever they were currently staying, somewhere in the world. She loved it. Lando never thought she’d be into the whole racing, but she always watched the races intently on a Sunday, rooting for her papa and saying how she wants to be a racer just like the both of them. They’d talked about her potentially karting- deciding to wait another year or two before introducing her to the tracks, but both of them fully wanting to support whatever she decided to do.
“You can watch papa race in real life!” Lando heightened his voice, aiming to ignite an eagerness in her to leave. Snatching up the discarded duffle bag and his phone, he made a beeline for the front door.
“Real life!” Talia repeated with excitement. “Daddy race too?”
“No.” Lando shook his head, locking the front door behind them. “Daddy won’t race, but when papa wins the race later, we’ll be there together!”
“Papa is gonna win!” She shouted.
“Fuck yeah-” Lando smacked his own hand over his mouth in shock. He’d gotten pretty good at keeping curses and foul language to himself since having Talia, but sometimes he still had little slip-ups. “Don’t repeat that.” He uttered with a look of horror.
God, Oscar would kill him if she dared to repeat it. Talia was only 4 years old and she was currently very impressionable, picking up on everything they said.
“Daddy said a naughty word!” Talia giggled loudly. Lando looked around himself nervously, his eyes darting to the other rooms as he waited for anyone to catch him in the act, a toddler being carried in his arms.
“Daddy said no such thing, don’t tell papa okay? Our little secret.” Lando presented his pinkie finger to her, Talia’s little one wrapping around it softly. He almost cooed at the sight, remembering how little her hands were when they first met and how much she’d grown since then.
“Secret!” She shouted. Lando quickly rushed into the elevator, pressing the button for the bottom floor and frantically pushing at the button to close the doors to the elevator. His heart was pounding out of his chest, ready to explode.
Avoiding the prying eyes of the paparazzi seemed near-impossible, especially when Lando Norris, ex-F1 driver turned Sky Sports presenter, accompanied with a mysterious child, gave the promise of a top-selling story. He couldn’t exactly blame them, he knew how much people would freak out, speculating on who the mother was (the world yet to find out he had a very loving boyfriend) and trying to find out as much information as possible.
He watched the elevator doors open on the bottom floor, the ding sounding through the air. Cautiously stepping out, he looked around for any nosey and watchful eyes in the lobby. When he was satisfied that no one had noticed them just yet, he pulled his and Talia’s hoods up, disguising their appearance. It seemed like a futile attempt, but he’d do anything to protect his daughter’s face from being plastered all over Twitter for the world to see.
Thankfully, they were staying at the Hilton hotel, courtesy of their sponsor with McLaren, meaning they were already right by the track. Lando took off speed walking, Talia’s small body bouncing up and down with movements, letting out screeches of loud laughter.
*
Retiring from racing- from Formula 1- had been one of the hardest decisions Lando had ever made. He finally won his world championship, finally achieving his lifelong dream of hearing the British national anthem playing for himself and finalising the victory in the second to last race. He poured his blood, sweat and tears into it, giving everything he had until it finally paid off.
A few more seasons passed and Oscar soon became a world champion, both of them doing it with McLaren. Eventually, they had a talk. They talked about where they saw themselves going, what their future could hold and what they currently wanted in life.
And then Talia came along and so did Lando’s retirement.
Lando missed it, he couldn’t pretend. Sure- he was rather every race weekend thanks to Sky Sports offering him the job of a presenter, but sometimes his blood still yearned for the race, the sound of the engine roaring in his ears, the air rushing around him and adrenaline fueling him as he gave everything to winning.
Looking out across the circuit now, he envisioned himself at his home race, the national anthem playing like a foggy memory in his ears. He shook his head to himself, reminding himself of where he currently was. Talia perched on his hip and on his way to start off the introductions to this week's race.
The sound of loud conversations pulled him away from watching the circuit. He cursed quietly to himself, then cursed again when Talia laughed at hearing the bad words. Shuffling Talia so she was facing away from the crowd, he quietly whirled around them, hoping their attention would be taken up by one of the current on-grid drivers walking past.
With his heart racing, he spotted just the person he was looking for walking around the paddock, heading straight for the McLaren garage. Like a race against time, Lando braced his hand on the back of Talia’s head, sprinting over to Mark Webber.
“Lando? Talia?” Mark spluttered when he laid his eyes on them, widening with shock. “What’s going on? Why is she here?”
The Brit was slightly out of breath, pushing Mark back towards the direction of the McLaren garage. As they entered the building, Lando’s eyes flickered to the ‘Forever Forward’ sign, a feeling surging through his body as he longed to tap it. “No one could look after her, and you’re the one of the only people I trust here to look after her. I know it’s a big ask- but can you help me out? I’m so sorry for asking you, but I wouldn’t be doing it if I had any other choice.” He explained, catching his breath.
“Of course I’ll look after her, anything to help you guys out. She’s in perfect hands.” Mark reassured him, hands reaching out as he pulled Talia off of Lando’s torso. “Well, hello there, our little future world champion! We can watch your papa race in the garage.” His eyes twinkled as he looked at the smiling child. “Don’t worry- I’ll keep her near Oscar’s driver's room and away from the camera.”
Lando sighed in relief. “Thanks, Mark. You’re a lifesaver. Talia, be good for Mark, okay?” He said, bending down until he was eye level with his daughter. “Me and papa will take you for some ice cream later for being so good!”
Talia nodded eagerly. “I love you, daddy!”
“I love you too, Talia.” He planted a kiss on her forehead before straightening and addressing Mark again. “Here’s her bag, everything she needs is in there. I’m doing the post race interviews today and then I’m free to come grab her again. Are you sure you’re okay with her now?” He raised his eyebrow at the Aussie.
“She’s in safe hands, now shoo! You’re probably already running late.”
“Okay… Okay, I’m leaving now. I’ll see you both later!” As Lando disappeared out of the garage without tapping the ‘Forever Forward’ sign, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d bestowed some bad luck upon himself.
“Grandad Mark! Grandad Mark!” He could faintly hear Talia shouting from inside the garage. Lando shook his head in amusement, running off to finally clock in for work.
Mark shrieked, voice booming against the walls of the garage. “Grandad?”
*
The chequered flag was waved and the cheers of the crowd roared throughout the grandstands and pit wall. The bright orange McLaren car had been leading the race for the last ten laps, bringing home the victory of the Silverstone Grand Prix. Oscar had a little bump with George somewhere within the race, managing it very well and still securing the win, bringing him just twenty points behind the current lead of the championship.
Lando felt pride bursting through his body, witnessing Oscar win a race never ceased to amaze him, and he could only hope that Talia was as happy as him right now.
He watched as the car with the number 81 rolled up to the stands, taking to rightful place at the P1 mark. Oscar emerged from the cockpit, standing atop of the nose and raised his finger to the sky. The Aussie jumped down, leaping eagerly into the open arms of his team, slapping his back and his helmet as he celebrated yet another victory. Max and Charles’ cars rolled up into P2 and P3 respectively, tearing their helmets off as they approached their teams.
A microphone was quickly thrown Lando’s way, ready for the post-race interviews to take place. Ruffling his curls and fixing his outfit, he took his place and readied himself for the interviews.
Starting with P3, Charles approached Lando with a bright smile. The Brit knew his friend would be disappointed with the results of the race, but delighted enough that he had managed to keep his lead in the championship so far. He made his way through the mandatory questions, asking about the team's strategy, how he managed to keep George at bay and what it was like to be leading the championship.
Max was next, a cheerful smile plastered on his face as he began to explain the race in detail, down to how the car felt and the strategic decisions made by the team during the race. Blabbering about how the car felt and how the constructors championship looked for Red Bull right now, Land couldn’t help but think that some things never change. The Dutchman was currently leading third in the championship, with Oscar taking over by three points thanks to his race win.
And lastly, Oscar was up next for the interview. If Lando wasn’t doing his best to be professional at his job, he’d have likely offered him a more intimate congratulations on the fantastic race he had. But he couldn’t- their relationship was private and he’d have plenty of time for a proper celebration with his boyfriend later.
The Aussie stood in front of him with his hair plastered against his forehead, pushed down by the bright papaya hat. Sweat glistened upon his skin, his chest falling and rising as the adrenaline within him began to settle. Good thing Lando couldn’t be seen on camera, otherwise everyone watching would’ve had a first row seat in seeing the Brit ogling the winner, licking his lips as he remembered their shared quick moments that were filled with adrenaline and want in their driver rooms.
Oscar eyed Lando suspiciously with a small smile, seemingly knowing exactly what kind of thoughts and memories were surging through his mind at the sight. Shaking his head at himself and at the thoughts that lingered, he raised the microphone, readying himself for the last pre-podium interview.
“Oscar Piastri! First of all, what a spectacular race from you today, you’ve continued to impress throughout this season so far and you don’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. P1 at Silverstone, how does it feel?” Lando asked, stepping to the side to allow the cameraman a proper glimpse at Silverstone’s winner.
“It feels amazing to win here, it’s such an amazing track and I think this is the track to win at, besides your home race.” Oscar responded, his PR voice ready and attempting to ignore the identity of the one interviewing him. “For the British people like you though- I know Silverstone is the ultimate race.”
He let out a hearty laugh. “You’re right there, Oscar, Silverstone was truly the big one back when I was on the tracks. Anyway, you’ve won in both Australia and Silverstone this year, setting yourself some high standards.”
“I plan to set those standards even higher, we’re aiming for the championship this year and we’re definitely in the fight to get it.”
“And speaking of being in the fight for the championship-'' Lando had a cheeky grin plastered on his face, watching as Oscar rolled his eyes. Sure- it was a mandatory question, but he’d told Oscar the night before he’d start grilling him about a second championship. “You were third in the championship overall, this race now bringing you to second and leaving you only twenty points behind the lead, Leclerc. You’ve always secured a lot of points for McLaren so far, making them third in the constructors championship so far. How do you plan to maintain this moving forward? Do you believe you can become a two time world champion?”
“You know- we’ve got the pace and we’re managing that pretty well, we know our strengths and what circuits work best for us. The team have all done a fantastic job so far, my own teammate, the mechanics, engineers and the people back at the factory. If we all keep putting in the work, I’m sure we can earn more points for the championships and uh- set some records for ourselves.” Oscar said, a proud smile plastered on his face. “To put it simple- I believe I can become a two time world champion.”
McLaren had been the team they both started with, the one they stayed with for years and the one Lando ended with. It felt like home, even in the worst of times when they couldn’t even get into the top ten. To see the team being a worthy competitor to Red Bull and Ferrari, it brought such pride to them both.
Lando may not be part of the team anymore, but it never stopped feeling like home.
“And finally before you guys get ready for the podium, what was the highlight of the race for you? Personally, your overtake on George where you guys made contact was incredible. You proved yourself handling the situation well even though you had to pit a little earlier than expected and still won.” The Brit emphasised, astonishment coating his words as he exclaimed.
He’d watched the race, certain after the contact with George that Oscar wouldn’t even make it to the podium. Hope was lost for Silverstone, he knew that Oscar would have so many more chances… but if Lando couldn’t be there to win it, he wanted Oscar to at least. Lando accepted defeat and yet what he thought was impossible happened. Of course, being a big achiever and always striving for more, Oscar managed to crawl his way from P15 to P1, overtaking Max with just ten laps to spare.
“I think I’d agree-” Oscar began to speak, but was interrupted by the loud voice of another Australian.
“Talia? Talia! Where are you? Come back, now!” Mark could be heard shouting across the paddock. The man was running frantically through the gathering crowds of people, drawing everyone’s attention to him and away from the interview.
Lando and Oscar locked eyes, dread washing over them and a look of horror on their faces. Fuck- Lando had completely forgotten his boyfriend didn’t know Talia was in the paddock. It could’ve been played off as it being another girl called Talia- but with Mark running around like he’d lost his head and with Lando paleing by the second, there was no denying it. A few beats of silence passed, the two too stunned to speak before Mark shouted out again for the little girl.
He didn’t know what to do. His job required him to keep interviewing Oscar, and Oscar’s job required him to continue with the interview so he could get to the podium. But his daughter- Talia was gone somewhere and Mark couldn’t find her. People would know- they’d know Lando had a daughter, but they didn’t need to know that Oscar did. Making his decision, he was ready to hand over the microphone and join Mark in chasing down his daughter. The Aussie looked conflicted, but his decision was set too.
A silent agreement in their eyes. Their daughter came first.
Before they could rush off to find her, they heard something coming towards them. “Papa! Papa raced today!” Their eyes shot down to the ground where the high pitched voice was coming from, only to see their daughter squeezing past reporters legs and throwing herself at Oscar. Her arms wrapped around the Aussie’s leg, little hands bunching up the fabric of his racing suit.
Just when Lando thought it couldn’t get anything worse, the universe obviously decided it could.
“Uh-” Oscar looked at her wide-eyed, unsure of what to do. His eyes darted to Lando in a desperate attempt for help, but even he didn’t know what to do.
The silence surrounding them was deafening, the cameraman had now angled the lens with Talia now in the frame, showing the world that she was clinging onto Oscar’s leg with a content smile spreading around her dummy. Quiet whispers seemed to quickly pick up around them, gossiping about who the child was and whether Oscar had anything to do with her. The whispers turned to talking, and the talking turned to shouting, and suddenly Lando just wanted to erase the entire day away.
It was his fault, he should’ve sorted something sooner, he should’ve taken the day off work and looked after Talia at home. Their sweet little girl’s face was exposed to the world, and now Oscar would have the rumours flying around about what he was to her.
Lando was ready to give it up, to take Talia in his arms, running away and not turning back until she was safe from all the prying eyes. It would make it so much more obvious to the media, Talia calling Oscar ‘papa’ and Lando running off with her, but he felt like they were left with no choice.
That was until Oscar’s frozen face slowly morphed into a bright smile, usually reserved for himself and their daughter. He bent over, picking Talia up from her underarms and the Brit watched as she burst out with laughter, wrapping her arms tightly around Oscar’s neck. Nuzzling her face against his fire-proof covered chest, she removed her dummy, poking her tongue out at the camera.
“Papa did race today! Did you watch it, sweetie?” Oscar asked, a kind tone as he addressed their daughter, ignoring the way that the crowd around them watched intently.
“I watched with grandpa Mark!” Talia responded loudly. “Daddy said you will win! Daddy was right!”
“Did he now?” Oscar said curiously, his eyes flickering over to Lando with a playful glint in his eyes. He prayed to himself silently that no one in the crowd noticed the look, but considering the loud gasps behind him, he was pretty certain people caught on quickly. “Well- how about you answer the question for me? What was your favourite part of the race?”
“When papa went fast! Really fast!” Talia exclaimed, bouncing with energy in Oscar’s arms.
“Hmmm.” Oscar tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I think that was my favourite too. But now I get to go on the podium, get my trophy! I’ll see you later, sweetie.”
“Thank you for your time today, Oscar. And again- a brilliant race from you, outstanding performance overall for this weekend. Good luck for the rest of the season, and we’ll see you on the podium.” Lando braved his way through the words, pulling a blank expression over his face. It was no use trying to pretend however, when Talia made grabbing hand motions towards him and Oscar had to hand him over, ready to head to the cooldown room.
Lando took her in his arms wordlessly, shock still evident in his system. The microphone’s were handed back, the crowds moved around him and talked about the child in his arms. The world had seen them both holding Talia. And if no one suspected they were together during their McLaren days together, then they certainly knew now.
*
“I cannot believe you lost our daughter!” Oscar slammed open the hotel room door, trudging inside with Talia following on the balls of his feet. She practically skipped her way into the room, looking at Oscar in awe and enlightenment.
Mark winced at the noise, pulling a face as he followed them. “It was an accident! She may have little legs but she is like Usain Bolt reincarnated!” He quickly defended himself.
“She’s a toddler.” Oscar deadpanned, glaring at the older Australian as he and Lando crossed the threshold into the room.
“She’s like Quicksilver!” Mark exclaimed, waving his hands around frantically before gesturing to the little girl currently running in circles around her father.
“I’m like a race car! Zoom!” Loud noises left her mouth as she ran around. Lando had to give her credit, she did seem like she was going pretty fast.
“Yes you are a race car, Talia. You’re so fast, just like papa!” Oscar cooed at her, catching her eyes quickly before she returned to running circles around him. Eventually, she fell over her own feet and let out a dramatic cry.
The Brit crossed the room with purpose, gently lifting up the weeping girl and cradling her in his arms. “Mark, I just- I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe you let a four year old child outrun you.”
“Oh- you aren’t blameless in this either, Lando.” Oscar turned to him, a flicker of furry taking over him with pursed lips and eyebrows furrowed.
“What did I do?” Lando exclaimed.
“Why was Talia even there in the first place? What happened to Ria having her?”
“She was sick! No one else could have her!” He hurriedly explained.
“So you just brought her to the paddock where everyone could see her?” Oscar’s accusation hung in the air, a tension growing between them all as Mark awkwardly shuffled his feet, unsure of what to do with himself.
The Brit pursed his lips, unsure of what to say. Looking back in hindsight, he should’ve just called in sick- surely, they could have managed a day without him, right? Regret lingered, but the damage was already done, the world already knew. Since the incident, they deliberately avoided going on their phones, allowing themselves to process it before seeing what the general reaction to it was. Meanwhile, Oscar’s PR a team were working overtime as they tried to find a way around it.
“I didn’t think anyone would see her! I just- I wasn’t thinking straight, I was rushing and I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, Oscar.” Lando apologised, guilt eating at him as Oscar sat down on the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Oscar exhaled a sigh. “I know you didn’t mean to… It’s just- I wasn’t exactly expecting her to come running over to me and calling me ‘papa’ in front of everyone there. I know you couldn’t have warned me that she was there, but I just wish I’d be prepared for it.”
“Look- I’ll leave you two to talk, I need to go work out what we’re going to do with your PR manager.” Mark spoke, exiting out of the room as a sombre mood settled in. The door closed quietly, leaving them in silence, accompanied only by the occasional weeping sniffle of their daughter. The weight of what happened lingered, a heaviness in the air feeling suffocating.
Lando anxiously bit his lip, chewing on the skin as he turned to his boyfriend. Oscar, hazing straight ahead, didn’t bat an eyelash when the Brit took a seat beside him, the actress dipping slightly. Talia clung to him like a small koala, nuzzling her head against his chest.
Like father, like daughter.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve thought it through more. I was so stupid, and I’m sorry I’ve fucked this up, I’m sorry everyone knows now, God- I don’t know how I could even begin to make this up to you.”
Oscar nonchalantly shrugged, the tension leaving his face as he turned to Lando. A sad, small smile played on his lips. “I mean, we always prepared for this, right? We knew we couldn’t hide it forever.”
“That doesn’t mean they deserved to see into our lives.” Lando shook his head, patting down Talia’s hair soothingly as she finally calmed down from tripping over herself. She wriggled out of his arms, insisting to be set free.
“Papa! Daddy!” She shouted and stomped her foot as she stood in front of them, a beaming smile on her face. “I love you!”
The Aussie smiled affectionately at her, a soft laugh escaping him as he responded. “And daddy and I love you too. I’m glad you enjoyed the race, Talia.”
“I watch every week! I wanna see you race!”
“You do watch me race every week!” Oscar chimed in.
“No!” She shook her head in frustration. “Like today! I watch papa race!”
“Talia, today was just a special day! You can watch it at home with the big tv!” Lando emphasised the word ‘big’, knowing Talia was captivated by the television’s big display, easily entertaining her. Children found joy in simple pleasures.
“Or…” Oscar began, fingers fidgeting as he turned to the side, fully looking at Lando. Gently, he took the Brit’s hands into his own, his thumbs gently tracing on the soft skin. “She could be with us at the races? Maybe it’s time we stop hiding. I mean- no amount of damage control is going to fix this, why bother hiding something that everyone would already know?” He suggested meekly. “Besides, I’m done hiding this part of my life. You’re both my family, and I love you.”
“But what about Mclaren?” Lando questioned, disbelief coating his words. “What if they’re trying to cover this up?” In Lando’s mind, there was no doubt that they were already drafting up a statement to pretend Talia was someone else’s child, someone who knew them both and had simply confused them with her own parents. Perhaps they’d find multiple angles of a story, all to spin the narrative that worked for them.
“Lando, she called me papa during a live show and then I handed her to you with no questions asked. People will already know.” Oscar deadpanned, an eyebrow raised.
“But-”
“I don’t care.” Oscar interjected decisively, his voice carrying a determined tone. “Before they can say anything, let’s announce it- on our own terms, the way we want.”
A pause hung in the air before Lando questioned with concern. “Are you sure? If you don’t want to do this, I’ll take the blame. I don’t care how it’ll happen, but I won’t drag you down for my mistake.”
“I’m positive. I love you, and I love our daughter, I won’t hide that any longer.”
“I love you too.” Lando expressed with a fond smile, his hands tenderly reaching up to cradle the Aussie’s face. Their lips met in a gentle dance, moving together slowly, butterflies seeming to brush against his skin.
“Do I get a kiss too?” Talia whined, playfully interrupting their shared intimacy with an over exaggerated pout.
The two exchanged knowing smiles between them, Talia was prone to her jealousy when the attention was on each other rather than showering her with love. Oscar pulled her between them on the bed, the small girl yelping as she was picked up with ease. They leaned in, showering Talia’s cheeks with wet kisses accompanied with a gentle hum. She erupted into laughter , squirming under their grip as they enveloped her in a love-filled attack.
Later that night, after they snuck off from the hotel in disguises, hiding from fans and the McLaren team alike while they took Talia for some ice cream to treat her, Oscar sent out a post to- as the young ones would say- hard launch his family.
His phone might've been blowing up for days to come, from friends, fans and his team, but all he really cared about was showing his love for his family in front of him.
*
