A race to your heart (Zarry AU)

8.- Future 🏁

Harry's POV

After that night we spent together, everything changed between Zayn and me. We resumed our friendship, but it was different—more intense, more charged. We started hanging out more than before, and the boundaries between friendship and something more became increasingly blurred.

It was one of those nights, at yet another sponsor's party in London, that I realized how much had shifted. The off-season buzzed with energy as everyone gathered to celebrate before the new season kicked off. The event was held at a sleek rooftop bar, with the city skyline glittering around us. Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but my focus was on Zayn.

We stood together by the bar, our champagne glasses nearly empty, the lights of the city reflecting in the golden liquid. As the night went on, our conversation drifted into familiar territory—race stories, adrenaline-fueled memories of high-speed chases, and the unspoken rivalry that had driven us both to the brink.

Zayn's laughter rang out, deep and genuine, and I found myself captivated by the warmth in his eyes. His presence was magnetic, drawing me in with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. It was in these moments that I realized something was growing between us, something unexpected and electrifying.

I had always seen Zayn as my fiercest competitor on the track, someone who pushed me to my limits and fueled my drive to win. But now, there was more. The competitive spirit that had once fueled our rivalry was still there, but it had evolved into something new—an undeniable chemistry that neither of us could resist.

As the party began to wind down, we made our way back to my flat. The energy between us was palpable, a mix of anticipation and tension. The moment we stepped inside, we were all over each other, the intensity of our connection playing out in every kiss, every touch.

Later, we lay side by side in my bed, the room bathed in the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. The earlier urgency had given way to a comfortable silence, a peaceful aftermath to our passion. The contrast between our tough exteriors and the vulnerability we shared in these quiet moments was stark, and it only deepened the connection we were building.

Zayn's voice broke the silence, his tone light but thoughtful. "Never thought we'd end up here, did you?"

I turned to look at him, a smirk playing on my lips as my fingers traced patterns on his chest. "Life's full of surprises. On and off the track."

He chuckled softly, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that caught my attention. Our conversation shifted, moving from playful banter to something deeper. We talked about our dreams, our ambitions, and the paths we wanted to take in our careers. We both knew the challenges that lay ahead, but there was also an unspoken understanding that we were in this together, no matter where the future took us.

"I can't imagine anyone else pushing me to be my best," Zayn admitted, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if he were staring at the horizon of his future.

His words resonated with me, striking a chord deep within. "It's what drives us, isn't it? But maybe... maybe there's more we can build together."

He turned to face me, our eyes locking. The possibility hung in the air between us, heavy with promise. We weren't just competitors anymore; we were partners, on and off the track.

As the night wore on, we spoke of our hopes and dreams, crafting a shared vision for the future—one where we could race together, not as rivals, but as allies. The idea of being on the same team, working side by side to achieve our goals, was as thrilling as it was daunting.

But there was still the question of what team would take me on. I hadn't received any confirmation yet from the team principals I'd interviewed with. Jeff had assured me they were still deliberating, weighing their options in a market full of talented drivers. But the uncertainty was eating me alive.

The Next Morning

The first light of dawn crept through the blinds, casting long shadows across my living room. I stood in front of the marble coffee table, staring down at my phone. Any moment now, Jeff would call with news that could change everything. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of excitement and dread swirling in my gut.

Zayn shuffled into the room, still groggy and dressed only in his underwear. His hair was a mess, but he looked perfect. "You okay, babe?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

I nodded, though my hands were shaking slightly. "Yeah... just waiting for a call."

He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. "Don't stress. You've got this. You always do."

I leaned into his embrace, grateful for the comfort he offered, but the anxiety gnawed at me. I hadn't told Zayn much about my interviews, only that I was in talks with a few top teams. He knew the stakes, just as I knew he was in the same position. We were both gunning for the same spots and deep down, we both knew that only one of us might get the call we were hoping for.

As if on cue, my phone rang. The shrill sound cut through the silence, making my heart leap into my throat. "It's Jeff," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Zayn pressed a kiss to my temple. "Good luck, babe. I'll be here making us something to eat."

I nodded, barely able to respond, and stepped out onto the balcony for some privacy. The cold morning air bit at my skin, but I barely noticed it. All I could think about was the voice on the other end of the line.

Zayn's POV

Watching Harry walk out onto the balcony, my chest tightened with a mix of pride and dread. Of course, I wanted the best for him—he was my friend, my lover, and one of the most talented drivers I'd ever known. But I couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling in my gut. We were both competing for the same dream, and only one of us could come out on top.

I wandered into the kitchen, trying to distract myself by rummaging through Harry's fridge. Cooking always helped calm my nerves, and right now, I needed something to do with my hands before I lost my mind.

I was proud of Harry, but I couldn't help feeling threatened. He had a natural talent that I'd always admired, a raw skill that had earned him a world championship at such a young age. I had the brains and the strategy, but sometimes I wished I could be more like him—effortless, instinctive, a born racer. He had the X-factor. It was undeniable.

My manager had mentioned that Harry was in talks with Ferrari. The very idea sent a pang of jealousy through me. Ferrari was the dream team, the one every driver wanted to be a part of. If anyone deserved to be on that team, it was Harry. But I couldn't help the bitterness that crept in, wondering if I'd ever get my chance.

I tried to focus on the task at hand, grabbing eggs, bacon, and a few vegetables to whip up a breakfast that would take the edge off my nerves. But as I cracked the eggs into the pan, I couldn't shake the image of Harry out on that balcony, receiving news that could change everything.

We were friends, lovers, and rivals all at once. It was a delicate balance, one that we had to navigate carefully. But as I cooked, I realized something important: no matter what happened, I'd always have Harry's back. Whether we ended up on the same team or opposite sides of the track, I'd always be in his corner.

But as I finished cooking and set the plates on the table, I couldn't help the small voice in the back of my mind that whispered, *What if I'm the one left behind?*