A race to your heart (Zarry AU)

13.- Jealousy, jealousy 🏁

Harry's POV

Weeks passed, and the connection between Zayn and me grew more intense, the allure of stolen moments was too strong to resist. 🏁

Between practices and races, we found ourselves sneaking off for secret rendezvous, our passion spilling over in stolen kisses and quick, heated encounters. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, but what started as a way to release the tension of our careers began to morph into something more complicated.

Despite the thrill of our hidden romance, I started to notice subtle shifts in Zayn's behavior. After the conversation we had about the seriousness of our relationship, I could see that his emotions were evolving, and it was changing the dynamic between us. What had once been a carefree fling was becoming a tangled mess of clashing feelings.

I love him—there's no question about that. But oftentimes I also need my space, especially in this high-pressure environment where every second is measured, and every action scrutinized. Zayn didn't seem to understand that. He was all in, all the time, and while I craved our physical connection, sometimes I just wanted to be alone or simply cuddle with him, with no expectations of anything more. I know I was going insane when he disappeared on me, but this is different. We have a bond now, an understanding where we are together exclusively. So, it might sound like a strange contradiction—wanting to be with him while also needing to keep my world intact. But in the world of Formula 1, having a space to decompress is essential.

Sex with Zayn had become my way of unwinding after a race, a way to relax and vent the pent-up energy that came with every victory or loss. But as much as I enjoyed our time together, there were moments when I needed to step back, to recharge on my terms. Zayn, however, was impossible to deny. I never wanted to start a fight, afraid that it would mean I was losing interest - which is not that way in the slightest- or that he would think I was cheating on him. The idea of always wanting what you can't have was becoming a recurring theme, one that seemed to haunt our relationship.

One afternoon after practice, I was hanging out in the paddock with my teammate Carlos. We were getting along well, and our camaraderie was something the team had started to notice. They decided to capitalize on it, using our friendly banter as a way to boost the team's social media presence and attract more followers.

We were in the middle of a fun language game, with Carlos quizzing me on Spanish words. The team thought it would be funny, and it was.

"Icónico!" I exclaimed, trying to guess a word. "Jamon icónico!" I said, grinning at Carlos.

"Ibérico," he corrected me, laughing at my mix-up. We both burst into laughter, the kind that left our sides aching.

"Mecánico," I responded, this time hitting the mark.

"No!" Carlos shouted in mock frustration, throwing his hands up in the air because I was getting ahead of him and was at square one.

"Hasta luego!" I fired back, trying to gain an edge in the game and keep my winning streak alive.

"Cielo!" I called out, excitement bubbling up as I guessed correctly again.

"How do you know that?" Carlos asked, genuinely surprised.

"Hablo español, un poquito," I said with a proud smile, feeling good about my small victory.

The game ended with me as the winner, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

"You know Spanish, huh?" Carlos said, shaking my hand and pulling me into a quick hug.

"Muchas gracias!" I replied, happy to have shown off a bit of my language skills and to have laughed with Carlos and the team.