A race to your heart (Zarry AU)

15.- Consequences 🏁

Harry's POV

I tried to sleep, but Zayn's texts and calls kept coming. Each notification pulled me further from rest, turning my mind into a spinning carousel of thoughts. I couldn't help but wonder if his jealousy was a sign of how deeply he cared—or if it was something more toxic, more suffocating. I knew I loved him, but this relentless need for reassurance was gnawing at the edges of what we had.

I closed my eyes, hoping to drift off, but my phone buzzed again. I sighed, rolling over and grabbing the device. Another message from Zayn. I felt a mix of frustration and guilt bubbling up. I loved him, but I needed space, especially in a world as intense as Formula 1. Every minute was packed with adrenaline, and when the day ended, all I wanted was peace—not more turbulence.

Later that night, I found myself tossing and turning, unable to escape the unease that settled over me. My phone rang again, but this time, I ignored it. I needed to clear my head.

Zayn's POV

After the altercation with Sainz, Toto, the team's principal, summoned me to his office. His expression was unreadable, but the sternness in his eyes made my stomach churn. The meeting was a blur, a series of reprimands and consequences. The words "suspended" echoed in my mind like a death sentence.

When I finally left Toto's office, I was in a daze. The reality of my actions hit me hard, but instead of processing it, I reached for my phone. I needed to hear Harry's voice, to feel some sense of connection amid the chaos I'd created. I called him repeatedly, but every time, the call went to voicemail. The sting of rejection was sharp, but I didn't stop. I needed to see him.

I made my way back to the hotel, my heart pounding with each step. My hands were shaking, and I couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the fear of losing him. I grabbed a bottle of Patron from the mini-bar, the liquid burning down my throat as I tried to drown out the anxiety biting at me.

The elevator ride felt like an eternity, the numbers lighting up one by one until I reached the floor where I knew Harry was staying. I stumbled down the narrow hallway, trying to remember his room number. My head was spinning, and I couldn't focus. I called him again, but still, no answer.

Desperation took over. I began to bang on doors, shouting his name. "Harry! Open up! Harry!" My voice echoed down the empty corridor, and I could feel my pulse racing in my temples.

It wasn't long before the hotel manager appeared, clearly irritated. "Sir, I'd have to ask you to come with me," he said, his tone firm.

"No! Get off me! Harry! Open up!" I kept shouting, my voice growing more frantic.

Finally, Harry's door opened. He stood there, surprise and concern etched on his face.

"Zayn? Oh my God. What the...?" He trailed off, taking in the scene.

"Sir, do you know this gentleman?" the manager asked, eyeing me warily.

"Harry! There you are! Of course, he knows me!" I slurred, relief washing over me as I stumbled towards him.

"Yes, I'm sorry if he caused any trouble. He's... Not in his right mind," Harry said, his voice tight with frustration.

The manager looked hesitant. "Are you going to be alright, sir? Do you want me to send security?"

"Security?! Fuck off! Tell him who I am, babe," I spat out, my words slurring together. Harry sighed, his patience wearing thin.

"No, no need. I can handle him. Could you send some coffee instead? And I'd appreciate it if we keep this just between us. Thanks," he said.