until today.

you had come to one of his training sessions, sitting comfortably on the sidelines with a cold drink in your hands while waiting for him to finish. a few staff members and younger players greeted you as they walked by, and you happily chatted with anyone who stopped to say hello.

one of the newer players lingered a little longer.

he was funny, easy to talk to, and clearly nervous around everyone, so you did your best to make him feel welcome. you laughed at one of his jokes, smiling brightly as the conversation continued.

from across the field, carlos noticed.

he tried not to stare.

he really did.

but every time he looked over, the guy was still standing there.

still talking.

still making you laugh.

one of his teammates nudged him with a grin.

"you've been looking over there for the past five minutes."

"have not."

"acevedo."

"...i'm just making sure she's okay."

"sure."

training finally ended, and before you even had the chance to stand, carlos was already walking over.

he wrapped an arm around your waist almost immediately.

"hi."

you smiled up at him. "hi."

he kissed your forehead before glancing toward the younger player, who awkwardly smiled and excused himself almost instantly.

you blinked.

"...what was that?"

"what was what?"

"you scared him away."

"did i?"

you narrowed your eyes.

"...carlos."

he looked away innocently.

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

you crossed your arms.

"were you..."

he sighed dramatically before rubbing the back of his neck.

"...maybe."

your eyebrows shot up.

"you were jealous?"

"a little."

you couldn't stop yourself from laughing.

"you're laughing at me?"

"because it's cute!"

he groaned, hiding his face against your shoulder.

"don't tell anyone."

"the famous carlos acevedo? jealous?"

"please."

you gently cupped his face, making him look at you.

"you're ridiculous."

"i know."

"he was asking about goalkeeper gloves."

"...oh."

"because he wanted to buy the same pair you wear."

"...seriously?"

you nodded.

"he kept saying how much he looks up to you."

there was a long pause.

"...i owe him an apology."

you burst into laughter again, and he smiled sheepishly before pulling you into a proper hug.

"for the record," he mumbled into your hair, "i wasn't worried you'd leave me."

"i know."

"...i just didn't like someone making you laugh that much."

you looked up at him with the softest smile.

"good thing nobody makes me laugh more than you."

his ears turned pink.

"you say things like that on purpose."

"maybe."

he rolled his eyes fondly before leaning down to kiss you.

"come on," he murmured against your lips. "let's go get dinner."

"your treat?"

"...you've already embarrassed me enough today."

"so that's a yes?"

he sighed dramatically.

"...yes."

you slipped your hand into his, unable to stop smiling as he intertwined your fingers with his.

if being jealous meant getting to hold you just a little closer, maybe he didn't mind it after all.

it wasn't perfect.

but it was made by you.

gilberto turned the bracelet over in his hands, carefully running his thumb across the tiny braid. "you made this?"

you nodded, suddenly embarrassed. "it's just... a little friendship bracelet."

"for me?"

"well..." you laughed nervously. "i know you have a big match tomorrow, so i thought maybe it could be... i don't know... something to remind you i'm cheering for you."

for a second, he simply stared at it.

then the brightest smile spread across his face.

"i love it."

before you could say anything else, he slipped it onto his wrist.

"gili-"

"i'm wearing it tomorrow."

"you don't have to."

"i want to."

you looked at the bracelet against his wrist, the colors standing out against his training clothes.

"what if someone tells you to take it off?"

"then i'll put it back on afterward."

you couldn't help laughing.

"it's just a bracelet."

he shook his head.

"it's your bracelet."

the next day, you watched from the stands.

before kickoff, gilberto glanced toward where you were sitting.

instead of waving, he quietly lifted his wrist.

showing you the bracelet.

you smiled so hard your cheeks hurt.

-

they won.

after the match, he ran straight toward you before celebrating with anyone else.

"did you see?" he asked, completely out of breath.

"i did."

"we won."

"you played amazing."

he looked down at the bracelet.

"told you."

you blinked.

"told me what?"

he held up his wrist proudly.

"it's lucky."

you laughed.

"gilberto, i don't think my crooked bracelet made you score."

"yes, it did."

"that's not how football works."

"agree to disagree."

after that, the bracelet became part of every match-day routine.

training?

bracelet.

league match?

bracelet.

friendly?

bracelet.

traveling with the team?

still on his wrist.

his teammates noticed almost immediately.

"you've been wearing that thing every day," one of them pointed out while they were changing after training.

gilberto looked down at it.

"yeah."

"don't you ever take it off?"

"only when i absolutely have to."

someone grinned.

"is it from your girlfriend?"

his ears turned pink.

"...maybe."

the locker room erupted with teasing.

"aww."

"that's adorable."

"look at him smiling."

gilberto rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop the grin tugging at his lips.

"laugh all you want."

he looked back down at the bracelet.

"we haven't lost since she gave it to me."

the room went quiet.

"...wait."

"...seriously?"

another teammate leaned over.

"don't you dare take that thing off."

"if you do and we lose, it's your fault."

gilberto laughed.

"see?"

he tapped the bracelet proudly.

"lucky."

—

months later, the threads had started to fade.

the colors weren't as bright anymore.

one corner had begun to fray.

you noticed while the two of you were sitting together after practice.

"gili..."

he looked over.

"hm?"

"your bracelet."

he glanced down.

"what about it?"

"it's falling apart."

"...oh."

"i can make you a new one."

he immediately covered it with his hand.

"no."

you blinked.

"no?"

"i'm keeping this one."

"but it's old."

"exactly."

you reached for his wrist gently.

"it's barely holding together."

he intertwined your fingers before you could untie it.

"then you'll just have to keep fixing it."

your heart melted.

"...you're impossible."

he smiled.

"maybe."

then he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles.

"but this one..."

his thumb brushed across the worn threads.

"...this one's been with me through every important match."

his eyes met yours.

"why would i replace my lucky charm?"

you smiled, leaning forward until your forehead rested against his.

"you're such a sap."

"only because you made me one."

and secretly, he believed that no matter where football took him, as long as that tiny bracelet stayed wrapped around his wrist... a part of you would always be with him.

"you're impossible," you mumbled as he spread the blanket beneath the shade of a large tree.

"and yet," he smiled, looking up at you, "you still keep me around."

"i ask myself why every day."

"liar."

you laughed, kicking off your shoes before sitting beside him.

the basket was quickly unpacked until the blanket was covered with sandwiches, strawberries, grapes, little pastries, bottles of lemonade, and a container of sliced watermelon.

you admired everything for a moment before looking at him.

"...you made all this?"

he scratched the back of his neck.

"maybe."

"carlos."

"okay... i may have called my mom to ask if i was cutting the fruit correctly."

your lips parted before you burst into laughter.

"you what?"

"don't laugh."

"i'm trying."

"you're failing."

he couldn't stop smiling either.

"she told me if i showed up with uneven strawberries you'd probably still eat them."

"she's right."

"she also said to stop worrying because you'd appreciate the effort."

you reached over and gently squeezed his hand.

"i do."

his smile softened instantly.

"good."

after eating until neither of you could possibly finish another strawberry, you wandered toward the little pond where ducks lazily floated across the water.

you crouched beside the edge, carefully tossing duck-safe feed into the water.

"look at that one," you giggled. "he's running."

"he thinks you're hiding more food."

"maybe i am."

the boldest duck waddled surprisingly close to you, making you laugh as it stared expectantly.

carlos watched the entire interaction with a smile.

"what?"

"nothing."

"you're staring."

"you're cute."

"i'm feeding ducks."

"exactly."

you rolled your eyes dramatically.

"you're unbelievable."

"i know."

when the ducks finally lost interest, the two of you wandered back toward the blanket.

you pulled a deck of cards from the basket with an overly confident smile.

"ready to lose?"

he raised an eyebrow.

"that's adorable."

"don't underestimate me."

"i already am."

twenty minutes later...

"...you cheated."

you gasped.

"excuse me?"

"there's no way you've won four games."

"maybe you're just bad."

"i'm competitive."

"clearly not enough."

he narrowed his eyes before reaching across the blanket and stealing a strawberry directly from your hand.

"hey!"

"winner's tax."

"i'm the winner."

"not anymore."

you reached for another piece of fruit only for him to steal that one too.

"carlos!"

he laughed so hard he nearly dropped the strawberry.

"you're so dramatic."

"give it back."

"come get it."

he held the strawberry just out of reach, grinning far too proudly.

you leaned across the blanket, stretching your arm toward him.

"almost..."

he moved it farther away.

"...rude."

"try harder."

with an exaggerated sigh, you grabbed the front of his shirt instead, pulling him toward you.

he blinked in surprise.

"that's not fair."

"neither is stealing my strawberries."

"true."

before he could react, you plucked the fruit from his fingers with a triumphant smile.

"ha."

"...i've created a monster."

"your own fault."

he shook his head, laughing under his breath before noticing the corner of your mouth stained pink from the strawberry juice.

"hold still."

"hm?"

his thumb gently brushed against your lower lip.

you froze.

"you had a little..." he murmured.

"...oh."

his hand lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

your eyes met.

neither of you spoke.

the sounds of children playing nearby and birds chirping seemed to fade into the background.

"what?" you asked quietly.

"nothing."

"you're looking at me."

"am i not allowed?"

"you are."

he smiled.

"good."

his gaze dropped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes.

"you're distracting."

"i'm sitting here."

"exactly."

you smiled knowingly.

"you've been staring at me all afternoon."

"can you blame me?"

your cheeks warmed.

"maybe."

"not a chance."

he leaned forward, leaving just enough space for you to decide whether to close it.

instead, you smiled and met him halfway.

the kiss was soft.

sweet.

slow enough that it made you forget about the card game entirely.

when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours with a quiet chuckle.

"worth losing the strawberries."

"you were never getting those back."

"i figured."

you laughed before reaching into the container and holding out the very last strawberry.

"peace offering?"

he smiled.

"only if we share."

you took one small bite before handing it to him.

he finished the other half without taking his eyes off you.

"still hungry?" you teased.

"a little."

"there's no fruit left."

he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your shoulder rested against his.

"i wasn't talking about the fruit."

your face immediately warmed.

"...smooth."

"did it work?"

you tried to hide your smile.

"...maybe."

his grin only grew wider as he kissed your temple, the two of you settling back against the blanket to watch the clouds drift lazily across the afternoon sky, neither of you in any hurry for the day to end.

"because it's true."

"and yet..." you teased, "...you're still on the phone with me."

there was a quiet laugh on the other end.

"that's different."

"is it?"

"...yeah."

you could picture the shy smile that always found its way onto his face whenever you teased him.

the two of you had been talking for almost two hours.

what had started as a quick call after training somehow turned into conversations about everything and nothing.

his teammates.

your day.

the funny dog he'd seen outside the stadium.

the movie you wanted to watch together.

neither of you seemed to want to be the first to hang up.

eventually, you glanced at the clock.

"okay..."

you sighed dramatically.

"i really should let you sleep."

"probably."

"big training session tomorrow."

"mhm."

"don't be late."

he laughed.

"i won't."

there was another comfortable silence.

"...goodnight."

"goodnight."

"...sleep well."

"you too."

neither of you hung up.

you smiled.

"gili?"

"yeah?"

"...you're supposed to end the call."

"...right."

another few seconds passed.

"...okay."

"...okay."

you laughed.

"you're terrible at saying goodbye."

"i know."

he let out a small breath.

"goodnight."

"goodnight."

there was a tiny pause.

then, without thinking, "love you."

silence.

complete silence.

your eyes widened.

on the other end of the line, you could hear absolutely nothing.

not even breathing.

"...gili?"

"..."

"...are you still there?"

another few agonizing seconds passed before you finally heard him inhale sharply.

"...i..."

his voice came out barely above a whisper.

"...i didn't mean to say that out loud."

you blinked.

"...what?"

he groaned quietly.

"I mean-"

another pause.

"...i did mean it."

your heart skipped.

"..."

"...i just wasn't planning to say it yet."

he sounded absolutely mortified.

"i wanted it to be... i don't know... special."

you could almost imagine him hiding his face behind one of the pillows on his bed.

"not..."

he laughed nervously.

"...while hanging up the phone."

you couldn't stop smiling.

"gili."

"...yeah?"

your voice softened.

"look at me."

he laughed quietly.

"that's kind of impossible."

"pretend."

"...okay."

you closed your eyes for a second, picturing the boy who always insisted on walking you home, who remembered your favorite ice cream, who still wore the little bracelet you'd made him because he believed it brought him luck.

the boy who loved you so naturally that the words had slipped out before he could stop them.

"...i love you too."

silence.

"..."

"...gili?"

"..."

you giggled.

"did i break you?"

you finally heard the quietest laugh.

"...maybe."

"say something."

"...i'm smiling so hard right now."

your own smile only grew.

"good."

"i think..."

he let out another tiny, embarrassed laugh.

"...i think this is the happiest i've ever been."

your heart melted.

"me too."

there was another comfortable silence, but this one felt different.

lighter.

warmer.

like something had quietly fallen into place.

after a moment, gilberto spoke again.

"...can i say it one more time?"

you smiled.

"you don't have to ask."

his voice was soft.

careful.

certain.

"...i love you."

this time, there was no panic.

no embarrassment.

no awkward silence.

just the sound of your quiet laugh before you answered without hesitation.

"...i love you too."

and somehow, saying goodnight after that became the easiest part of the conversation.

"it is," he murmured, looking at you instead of the sunset. "but you know what's even better?"

"hm?"

"you."

you laughed immediately, nudging his side with your elbow.

"that was so cheesy."

"it worked though."

"it absolutely did not."

"it made you smile."

"...okay, maybe a little."

his grin widened triumphantly.

moments like these had always been your favorite. no cameras. no interviews. no crowds chanting his name from the stands. just the two of you walking barefoot along the beach after one of the few vacations he managed to take during the season.

you had been together for years now, growing alongside each other through transfers, victories, injuries, and the overwhelming attention that came with dating one of football's brightest stars.

through everything, joão had remained the same.

still the boy who stole fries off your plate.

still the man who insisted on holding your hand whenever you crossed the street.

still the person who looked at you like you hung every star in the sky.

he suddenly stopped walking.

you turned toward him with a confused smile.

"what?"

"i..." he scratched the back of his neck, looking oddly nervous.

that alone made your eyebrows lift.

joão félix? nervous?

"you okay?"

"yeah."

"...are you sure?"

"...no."

you giggled.

"you're scaring me."

he took a deep breath before pulling something small from his pocket.

your smile slowly disappeared.

"joão?"

his hands were shaking.

actually shaking.

"i had this whole speech memorized," he admitted with a sheepish laugh. "i practiced it in the mirror... probably a hundred times."

you felt your heartbeat speeding up.

"but now you're standing here looking at me..." he smiled softly, his eyes already glossy. "...and i forgot every single word."

a laugh escaped you, quickly followed by tears you hadn't even realized were forming.

"oh my god..."

"i know." he laughed too. "i'm messing this up."

"no."

you shook your head immediately.

"you're not."

he inhaled deeply before lowering himself onto one knee.

everything around you seemed to disappear.

the crashing waves.

the breeze.

the distant sounds of people farther down the beach.

all you could see was him.

the man you loved.

the man who had become your home.

joão carefully opened the small velvet box.

inside rested the most beautiful ring you had ever seen.

"i've been lucky enough to score goals," he began quietly.

"i've played in incredible stadiums."

"i've worn jerseys i dreamed about as a little kid."

"but none of those moments compare to meeting you."

fresh tears streamed down your cheeks.

"you've celebrated every win with me."

"you've stayed beside me through every loss."

"you remind me that i'm more than football."

his own voice cracked.

"and every single future i imagine..." he smiled through watery eyes. "...you're in it."

you covered your mouth, already crying too hard to speak.

"i don't want another day where you're just my girlfriend."

"i want you to be my wife."

he looked up at you with so much love that it made your chest ache.

"so..."

he laughed nervously.

"will you marry me?"

you didn't answer immediately.

mostly because you physically couldn't.

you were crying too hard.

joão's expression shifted into panic.

"was that too much?"

you shook your head.

"no."

"you don't have to say yes if-"

"joão."

he stopped talking instantly.

"yes."

his eyes widened.

"...yes?"

you nodded over and over again.

"yes."

"yes, i'll marry you."

"oh my-"

he stood so quickly he almost dropped the ring.

you both burst into laughter through your tears.

"so that's a yes?" he teased.

you laughed harder.

"i literally just said yes!"

"i wanted to make sure!"

"you're an idiot."

"your idiot?"

you cupped his face with both hands.

"my idiot."

he carefully slid the ring onto your finger with trembling hands before staring at it in complete disbelief.

then at you.

then back at the ring.

then back at you.

"you can't take it back now," he whispered.

"i wasn't planning to."

he wrapped both arms around your waist, lifting you off the sand as he spun you around.

your laughter echoed across the quiet beach.

"i love you," he breathed against your forehead.

"so much."

"i love you too."

he kissed you slowly, gently, like he wanted to memorize the feeling forever.

when he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.

"so..."

"so?"

"what do i call you now?"

you blinked.

he grinned.

"my fiancée."

the word made both of you laugh all over again.

"my fiancée," he repeated softly, smiling even brighter.

you looked down at the ring sparkling beneath the fading sunlight before looking back up at the man who had just promised you forever.

there would be wedding plans.

guest lists.

flowers.

late-night decisions over venues and colors.

a lifetime of memories waiting to be made.

but for now... there was only the ocean.

the sunset, and the way joão looked at you as if your "yes" had been the greatest victory of his life.

today was supposed to be the day you finally impressed him.

instead, you were sitting on the living room couch with your notebook open across your lap, whispering the same sentence for what felt like the hundredth time.

"eu gosto de você..."

you frowned.

"...eu gosto de vo-say."

no.

that wasn't right.

you sighed dramatically before replaying the pronunciation from your phone.

"você."

"vo-see."

still wrong.

you buried your face in the couch cushion.

"why is this so hard?"

"because you're saying it like it's english."

your head shot up so quickly you nearly dropped your phone.

cristiano stood in the doorway, one hand resting against the frame while the biggest grin spread across his face.

"...how long have you been there?"

he pretended to think about it.

"long enough."

your eyes widened.

"you weren't supposed to hear any of that."

"i figured."

heat rushed to your cheeks as you slammed the notebook shut.

"don't look."

"too late."

"cris."

he laughed quietly before walking over and sitting beside you.

"were you really learning portuguese?"

"...maybe."

"for me?"

you hesitated before giving the smallest nod.

"...i wanted to surprise you."

his teasing smile immediately softened.

instead of laughing, he reached over and gently picked up your notebook.

every page was covered in messy handwriting. there were little stars beside the words you'd memorized, hearts next to phrases you thought sounded romantic, and tiny notes reminding yourself how certain letters were supposed to sound.

he looked back at you with the sweetest expression.

"you've been working really hard."

you rubbed the back of your neck.

"i'm still terrible."

"who told you that?"

"my ears."

he laughed.

"you're not terrible."

"you literally caught me saying 'vo-say.'"

"okay..." he admitted, trying not to smile. "that one was pretty funny."

you groaned.

"i knew you'd laugh."

"i'm not laughing at you."

he reached over, gently taking one of your hands.

"i'm laughing because you're cute."

your cheeks somehow became even warmer.

"there's a difference."

he squeezed your hand before setting the notebook back in your lap.

"come on."

you blinked.

"what?"

"if you're going to learn portuguese..."

he smiled.

"...you deserve a proper teacher."

you couldn't help smiling back.

"you're serious?"

"of course."

he shifted on the couch until he was sitting beside you, your shoulders brushing.

"lesson one."

he pointed to the first word in your notebook.

"olá."

you nodded confidently.

"oh-la."

he smiled immediately.

"perfect."

your eyes lit up.

"really?"

"see? you're already making progress."

you sat a little straighter.

"okay... maybe i'm not hopeless."

"definitely not."

he flipped another page.

"next."

his finger landed on a much longer word.

"coração."

you stared at it.

"...that doesn't look real."

he laughed.

"it is."

"how do you even say that?"

"listen carefully."

he repeated it slowly.

"coração."

you concentrated as hard as you could.

"...cora..."

he nodded encouragingly.

"...sow?"

he immediately burst into laughter.

"cris!"

"i'm sorry."

he wasn't sorry at all.

he leaned forward, covering his face while he laughed.

you crossed your arms.

"you're a terrible teacher."

he finally managed to catch his breath.

"okay."

he smiled.

"try again."

you narrowed your eyes.

"if you laugh this time, i'm quitting."

"deal."

you looked back at the notebook.

"...cora... sao."

he pressed his lips together, clearly fighting another laugh.

"...better."

"you're trying so hard not to laugh."

"a little."

you sighed dramatically.

"i knew it."

he nudged your shoulder with his.

"you're improving."

"barely."

"learning a language takes time."

you looked over at him.

"how many languages do you know?"

he shrugged casually.

"a few."

"show off."

"just a little."

the lesson continued for the next hour.

every few minutes you'd mispronounce another word, and every single time he'd laugh until tears formed in the corners of his eyes before patiently showing you how to say it correctly.

he never made you feel embarrassed.

if anything, his laughter only made the afternoon feel lighter.

"okay," he said, turning another page in your notebook.

"what's this?"

before you could stop him, he'd already read the sentence.

"'você é bonito.'"

your eyes widened.

"...give me that."

you reached for the notebook, but he held it just out of reach.

"so..."

he smiled mischievously.

"you've been practicing how to call me handsome?"

you covered your face.

"i'm leaving."

"no, you're not."

"i'm never speaking again."

he laughed before lowering the notebook.

"come here."

you peeked at him through your fingers.

"repeat after me."

you sighed dramatically.

"fine."

"você..."

"você."

"é..."

"é."

"bonito."

"...bonito."

his smile grew.

"perfect."

"really?"

"really."

you smiled proudly.

"finally."

"see?"

he bumped your shoulder again.

"you're learning."

"only because you're helping me."

"exactly."

after practicing another handful of words, he closed the notebook.

"my turn."

you tilted your head.

"your turn?"

"teach me something in english."

you thought for a moment before smiling innocently.

"okay."

he raised an eyebrow.

"i don't trust that smile."

"say..."

you leaned a little closer.

"'i love my girlfriend more than football.'"

he stared at you for a long moment before slowly shaking his head.

"...that's a trap."

"is it?" you asked with the sweetest smile you could manage.

"absolutely."

a laugh escaped you as you gently nudged his shoulder.

"say it."

he sighed so dramatically that you almost felt bad.

almost.

"i love my girlfriend more than football."

you gasped in fake surprise.

"wow."

he narrowed his eyes.

"don't."

"your english is incredible."

he laughed, pointing a finger at you.

"you're impossible."

"i learned from the best."

he shook his head, smiling despite himself.

"okay."

his voice softened.

"last lesson."

you immediately gave him your full attention.

"this one's important."

he intertwined his fingers with yours.

"repeat after me."

"okay."

"eu..."

"eu."

"te."

"te."

"amo."

"...amo."

he smiled.

"again."

this time the words rolled off your tongue much more naturally.

"eu te amo."

he looked at you for a second before smiling so brightly it almost made your heart stop.

"that was perfect."

"seriously?"

"seriously."

you couldn't stop smiling.

"what does it sound like when i say it?"

"cute."

"that's not what i asked."

he laughed.

"it sounds like someone who's trying really hard."

"that's because i am."

he gently lifted your joined hands before pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles.

"and that's exactly why i love hearing it."

your heart fluttered.

you looked down at your intertwined fingers before quietly repeating the words one last time.

"eu te amo."

his thumb brushed across the back of your hand.

"i love you too."

you smiled.

"next lesson tomorrow?"

he grinned.

"only if you're ready to embarrass yourself again."

you rolled your eyes before laughing.

"with you?"

you squeezed his hand.

"always."

his best friend snorted beside him.

"don't even try pretending you didn't see her."

"...i wasn't."

"you're smiling."

"...am i?"

"and you're blushing."

memo groaned, dragging both hands down his face.

"please stop pointing it out."

"can't help it."

"you're the worst."

you and memo had known each other since freshman year.

history class had been the reason the two of you met.

you were paired together for a project, and somehow one assignment turned into studying together before every test, sharing lunches whenever one of you forgot yours, and walking through the hallways side by side almost every day.

everyone assumed you were dating.

everyone except the two people actually involved.

because memo was convinced you only thought of him as your best friend.

sure, you always saved him a seat in class.

you waited for him outside the locker rooms after soccer practice.

you wore his hoodie whenever the classrooms got cold.

you even remembered every game on his schedule.

to him, you were simply... nice.

there was no way someone like you could actually like him back.

one afternoon after practice, memo collapsed onto the bleachers while the rest of the team packed up.

his teammate sat beside him with a knowing look.

"so..."

memo already knew where this was going.

"...what?"

"when are you asking her out?"

he looked away.

"...i don't know."

"you've liked her forever."

memo rubbed the back of his neck.

"...yeah."

"then what's stopping you?"

he sighed.

"what if she says no?"

his teammate stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

"memo."

"...what?"

"she waits outside practice every single day."

"...yeah."

"she still wears your hoodie."

"...she said it's comfortable."

"she made you brownies last week."

"...she likes baking."

his teammate laughed.

"you are unbelievably clueless."

memo rested his elbows on his knees.

"...i just don't want to lose her."

that answer made his teammate smile a little.

"you won't know unless you ask."

monday morning arrived much faster than memo would've liked.

he sat beneath the large tree near the soccer field with an open textbook resting on his lap.

he hadn't turned the page once.

he couldn't focus.

not when he kept replaying the conversation from friday.

"hi."

your voice made him jump.

he looked up to see you smiling down at him.

"...hi."

"mind if i sit?"

"of course not."

you settled beside him, your shoulders brushing.

the familiar silence wasn't awkward.

it never had been.

until today, because memo kept opening his mouth before immediately closing it again.

you tilted your head.

"everything okay?"

"...yeah."

"you've been staring at the same page for ten minutes."

"...have i?"

you laughed quietly.

"memo."

he swallowed.

his heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest.

his palms were sweaty.

he could hear every beat pounding in his ears.

just ask her.

before you chicken out again.

"...can i ask you something?"

you smiled.

"anything."

"...promise you won't laugh?"

"i promise."

he took the deepest breath he'd ever taken.

"...would you maybe..."

his voice cracked.

he cleared his throat, cheeks burning.

"...would you maybe want to..."

another pause.

you waited patiently.

"...go out with me?"

everything became quiet.

memo's stomach immediately dropped.

the silence lasted only a few seconds.

to him, it felt like hours.

he quickly looked down.

"you don't have to if you-"

"memo."

he looked back up.

you were smiling.

the kind of smile that made him forget how to breathe.

"i thought you'd never ask."

he blinked.

"...what?"

you laughed.

"i've been waiting forever."

"...you have?"

you nodded.

"you seriously thought i waited outside every practice because i had nothing better to do?"

"...maybe."

"i baked you cookies."

"i thought you just liked baking."

"i wore your hoodie for almost three months."

"...i was wondering where it went."

you shook your head with a laugh.

"you're impossible."

"...i am?"

"a little."

he smiled sheepishly.

"i've liked you since sophomore year."

memo's brain completely shut down.

"...really?"

"really."

he stared at you for several long seconds before the biggest smile slowly spread across his face.

it was so bright that it made you laugh again.

"...so."

"so?"

"is that a yes?"

instead of answering right away, you reached over and slipped your hand into his.

your fingers fit perfectly together.

"it's a yes."

memo looked down at your joined hands before looking back at you.

his cheeks somehow turned an even deeper shade of red.

you couldn't help smiling.

"you're adorable when you blush."

he covered his face with his free hand.

"please don't say that."

"why not?"

"because it makes me blush even more."

you laughed.

"good."

he peeked at you through his fingers before letting out a shy laugh of his own.

it had taken him nearly two years to work up the courage to ask you out.

and all that time . . . you had been hoping he'd finally realize you were waiting for him the whole time.

he immediately put them back.

too serious.

too much pressure.

then he reached for white lilies.

"...wait."

weren't those for funerals?

he quickly returned them before anyone noticed.

a small laugh made him glance toward the florist arranging flowers nearby.

"first time buying flowers?" she asked with a knowing smile.

his ears turned pink.

"...is it that obvious?"

"a little."

he rubbed the back of his neck.

"i've never... bought flowers for anyone before."

"girlfriend?"

his shy smile answered before he could.

"she's gonna love whatever you choose."

"what if she doesn't?"

the florist chuckled.

"trust me. if she's the right girl, she won't remember the flowers."

he frowned slightly.

"she'll remember that you thought of her."

those words stuck with him.

instead of searching for the fanciest bouquet, he picked one that reminded him of you.

soft pink roses because they matched the blush that always spread across your cheeks whenever he complimented you.

little white daisies because they were cheerful, just like your laugh.

and tiny sprigs of baby's breath because they filled every empty space, the same way you somehow filled every quiet moment of his life.

he smiled.

"...these."

the florist wrapped them carefully with cream-colored paper and tied everything together with a pale ribbon.

gilberto held the bouquet like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

his palms were sweating the entire walk to your house.

what if you thought it was weird?

what if flowers were too old-fashioned?

what if, the front door opened before he even knocked.

you blinked in surprise.

"gili?"

he froze.

every word he'd practiced disappeared.

"...hi."

"hi?" you laughed softly. "what are you doing here?"

he looked down at the bouquet before holding it out with shaky hands.

"these are... for you."

you stared.

"...for me?"

he nodded once.

"i, um..."

his face burned.

"i saw them and... they reminded me of you."

you accepted the bouquet carefully, your fingertips brushing his.

your eyes immediately softened as you looked over every flower.

"they're beautiful."

his shoulders relaxed just a little.

"really?"

"really."

you lifted them closer, smiling as you admired the pink roses tucked between the daisies.

"i've never had anyone buy me flowers before."

his heart skipped.

"...you haven't?"

you shook your head.

"never."

for a second, neither of you spoke.

then you looked back up at him with the brightest smile he'd ever seen.

"thank you."

before he could answer, you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around him.

he stiffened in surprise for exactly one second before hugging you back.

carefully.

making sure not to crush the flowers between you.

you pulled away just enough to grin.

"you know..."

"hmm?"

"i think i like the person who gave them to me even more."

his cheeks somehow turned an even deeper shade of red.

"...don't say things like that."

"why not?"

"because..."

he hid his face in the sleeve of his hoodie.

"...you make me nervous."

you giggled.

"good."

he peeked at you over the fabric.

"good?"

"because it's cute."

he groaned quietly while you laughed.

you reached over, gently taking his hand into yours.

"come inside?"

he intertwined his fingers with yours almost instantly.

"...okay."

as you walked inside together, the bouquet rested safely in your other hand.

years later, long after those flowers had dried and faded, you'd still remember them.

not because they were the prettiest bouquet you'd ever received, but because they came from a boy who had spent twenty minutes trying to find flowers worthy of the girl he loved.

"...memo."

from the living room came the sound of muffled laughter.

you narrowed your eyes.

"memo."

he appeared in the kitchen doorway a second later, trying and failing to hide the grin spreading across his face.

"yes, mi amor?"

you pointed toward the cabinet.

"why is my mug all the way up there?"

he looked at it as if he had never seen it before.

"huh."

"don't."

"that's strange."

"guillermo."

"maybe it walked up there."

you crossed your arms.

"the mug?"

"you never know."

you stared at him for a long moment before letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"can you please get it down?"

he leaned against the counter.

"hmm..."

you already knew that look.

"what?"

"say please."

"i did."

"say it sweeter."

you rolled your eyes.

"please."

he smiled.

"with a kiss."

you gasped dramatically.

"you're negotiating over a coffee mug?"

"i prefer the term compromising."

you walked over until you were standing right in front of him.

he immediately leaned down, expecting you to kiss him.

instead, you smiled sweetly.

"no."

he blinked.

"...no?"

"no kiss until i get my mug."

"that's not how this works."

"i think it is."

he laughed.

"you're stubborn."

"learned from the best."

he reached out to wrap an arm around your waist, but you slipped right out of his grasp.

"uh-uh."

"really?"

"really."

he followed you around the kitchen, amused by your determination.

"just one kiss."

"mug first."

"half a kiss?"

"that's not a thing."

"it could be."

you shook your head, trying not to laugh.

"you're unbelievable."

"and yet you love me."

"that doesn't mean you're getting a kiss."

he placed a hand over his heart.

"you're breaking it."

"you'll recover."

he sighed dramatically before finally walking over to the cabinet.

without even stretching, he reached up and grabbed the mug with ease.

show-off.

he placed it carefully into your hands.

"there."

you smiled triumphantly.

"thank you."

then you turned around and started making your coffee.

memo blinked.

"...excuse me?"

you looked over your shoulder innocently.

"yes?"

"where's my kiss?"

you took a sip from your freshly made coffee.

"hmm."

"you promised."

"did i?"

he laughed, immediately walking over until he was standing behind you.

"you're impossible."

"maybe."

his arms wrapped around your waist as he rested his chin on top of your head.

"i got your mug."

"you did."

"so..."

you smiled to yourself, pretending to think about it.

"i suppose you've earned it."

before he could react, you turned in his arms, reached up onto your tiptoes, and gently kissed him.

it was quick.

soft.

just enough to leave him smiling when you pulled away.

"that's it?" he asked.

"that's what you earned."

he raised an eyebrow.

"i think i deserve another."

"do you?"

"definitely."

you laughed.

"only if you promise to stop hiding my things."

he stayed quiet for a suspiciously long time.

"...define stop."

you narrowed your eyes.

"memo."

he couldn't hold back his laughter anymore.

"okay, okay."

"i'm serious."

"i know."

he leaned down, stealing one more kiss before you could protest.

"i'll stop."

you smiled.

"good."

"the mugs, anyway."

your smile slowly disappeared.

"...the mugs?"

he flashed you an innocent grin.

"i never said anything about the snacks."

you groaned as he darted out of the kitchen laughing, already knowing you'd probably find your favorite bag of chips sitting on the highest shelf later that day.

"memo, that's three bags."

"exactly."

"you're going to throw your back out."

he only grinned.

"worth it."

after spending nearly an hour swimming and walking along the shoreline, the two of you returned to your towels.

you reached into the beach bag and pulled out the bottle of sunscreen before handing it to him.

"can you do my back?"

he accepted the bottle without hesitation.

"of course."

turning around, you gathered your hair over one shoulder and waited.

a second later, cool sunscreen landed against your skin.

you shivered.

"that's cold."

"sorry."

his hands began spreading it across your shoulders with slow, careful movements.

you smiled to yourself.

"don't miss a spot."

"i won't."

his palms moved down your back at an almost painfully relaxed pace.

he wasn't rushing.

not even a little.

after another minute, you glanced over your shoulder.

"memo."

"hmm?"

"you're taking forever."

"am i?"

"yes."

he continued rubbing the sunscreen into your skin as though he hadn't heard you.

"gotta make sure it's blended."

"it blended five minutes ago."

"i don't know..."

his thumbs traced gentle circles near your shoulders.

"i think this side needs a little more."

you laughed.

"you're absolutely doing this on purpose."

he smiled, though you couldn't fully see it.

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"liar."

"i'm being thorough."

"you're stalling."

"maybe a little."

you shook your head, trying to hide your smile.

"everyone's going to think i'm getting a massage."

he chuckled.

"would that be so bad?"

"no..."

you admitted.

"...but i know you."

"and?"

"you're enjoying this way too much."

"can you blame me?"

his hands slowed even more, gently working the last bit of sunscreen across your shoulders.

"i get to spend the day at the beach with the prettiest girl here."

you rolled your eyes playfully.

"you're cheesy."

"you love it."

"...maybe."

he smiled to himself.

"thought so."

finally, after what felt like forever, he clicked the cap back onto the bottle.

"all done."

you turned around to face him.

"that took at least ten minutes."

"quality work can't be rushed."

you laughed.

"you're unbelievable."

"thank you."

"that wasn't a compliment."

"i'm choosing to believe it was."

you reached for the sunscreen.

"your turn."

he handed it over before sitting down on the towel with his back toward you.

"be gentle."

a mischievous smile spread across your face.

"of course."

you squeezed far more sunscreen into your hand than necessary.

he immediately looked over his shoulder.

"...that sounded like a lot."

"did it?"

you rubbed the cold lotion onto his back.

he flinched.

"that's freezing!"

"oh?"

you smiled innocently.

"i'm just being thorough."

he laughed, recognizing his own words.

"you're getting revenge."

"maybe a little."

"i created a monster."

"you did."

by the time you finished, he turned around with a grin that matched yours.

"feel better?"

"much."

he leaned closer until your noses almost touched.

"does being thorough earn me a reward?"

you pretended to think about it.

"hmm..."

he waited patiently.

then you leaned in just enough to steal a quick kiss before pulling away again.

"there."

he smiled against your lips.

"i think i missed a spot."

you laughed, gently pushing him back onto the towel.

"nice try."

"had to ask."

carlos steps inside with a tired sigh, gym bag slipping from his shoulder and landing softly on the floor.

his hair is still slightly damp from his shower at the training grounds, and he looks absolutely exhausted.

the dark circles beneath his eyes are more noticeable today, his shoulders slumped in a way that tells you practice had been anything but easy.

he notices you almost immediately.

his entire expression changes.

the exhaustion doesn't disappear, but something softer replaces it.

"hi, hermosa."

his voice is rough from hours of shouting across the field.

you smile.

"welcome home."

before you can ask how training went, he's already crossing the room.

he doesn't say another word.

he simply wraps both arms around your waist and pulls you against his chest.

it's one of those hugs where there's no teasing.

no jokes.

no playful grin.

just all of his weight leaning into you as though you've become the only thing keeping him upright.

you automatically slide your arms around his neck.

"long day?"

he hums quietly against your shoulder.

"mhm."

you feel him melt further into the embrace.

his face presses into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo like he's trying to erase the entire day from his mind.

neither of you speaks.

there's no need to.

you slowly run your fingers through the curls at the back of his head, scratching lightly at his scalp.

he lets out the smallest sigh.

one that sounds almost relieved.

"that good?" you whisper.

"don't stop."

you smile to yourself.

"i wasn't planning to."

another minute passes.

then another.

the food you'd been making continues simmering quietly in the kitchen, forgotten for the moment.

your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

neither of you moves.

carlos tightens his hold just a little.

"five more minutes."

you laugh softly.

"you've been saying five more minutes for the last five minutes."

"then..."

he mumbles sleepily.

"another five."

you gently pull back just enough to look at him.

his eyes are half-closed.

he looks like he could fall asleep standing up.

"did coach work you that hard today?"

he groans dramatically.

"conditioning."

"again?"

"again."

he shakes his head before resting his forehead against yours.

"i don't think my legs belong to me anymore."

you reach up, cupping his face between your hands.

"well, you survived."

"barely."

"i'm proud of you."

his lips curve into a small smile.

those four words always seem to affect him more than he admits.

"thanks."

he kisses your forehead so gently it almost feels like a brush of air.

then your nose.

then your cheek.

finally, your lips.

slow.

unhurried.

like he has nowhere else he'd rather be.

when he pulls away, he doesn't go far.

he simply rests his forehead against yours again.

"i missed you today."

"you saw me this morning."

"too long."

you laugh.

"it was eight hours."

"exactly."

he says it as though that's an unreasonable amount of time.

you shake your head fondly.

"you're clingy."

"only with you."

you pretend to think about it.

"i guess i can live with that."

his smile grows a little wider.

the kind that only you get to see.

comfortable.

unguarded.

completely his.

finally, you nudge him toward the couch.

"come sit."

he obeys without complaint, dropping down beside you before immediately pulling you into his side again.

"carlos..."

"what?"

"i have dinner on the stove."

"...it'll still be there."

you raise an eyebrow.

"i need you first."

your heart softens instantly.

he wasn't asking for anything grand.

not a conversation.

not advice.

not even food.

just you.

just a few quiet minutes where the world expected nothing from him.

you lean your head against his shoulder, threading your fingers through his.

"okay."

he closes his eyes, squeezing your hand once.

"thank you."

you smile, pressing a gentle kiss against his jaw.

"welcome home, cariño."

for the first time all day, he feels like he can finally breathe.

"i'm almost done," he promised.

you looked at the clock.

"you said that forty minutes ago."

"this one counts."

"they've all counted."

he laughed without taking his eyes off the screen.

"i mean it this time."

"mhm."

you leaned farther into the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone.

every few seconds, though, your eyes wandered back to him.

his brows furrowed in concentration.

his tongue peeked out ever so slightly whenever he got competitive.

and every time something went wrong, he'd mumble to himself in portuguese under his breath.

it was...

adorable.

a few minutes later, you quietly stood up.

joão didn't notice.

you walked over behind the couch.

still nothing.

"wow," you said dramatically.

"i could disappear and you wouldn't even realize."

"i would."

his attention never left the screen.

"uh-huh."

"promise."

before he could react, you reached down and gently took the controller out of his hands.

"hey!"

he looked up at you with wide eyes.

"my game!"

"your girlfriend."

he blinked.

"...that's a good point."

you crossed your arms.

"i've been waiting."

he smiled sheepishly.

"i know."

"do you?"

"i got distracted."

"clearly."

he reached for your hand.

"come here."

you tried to stay stubborn.

"why?"

"because i miss you."

"you've been sitting three feet away from me."

"exactly."

he tugged gently until you finally gave in.

the moment you sat beside him, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest like he'd been waiting to do it all evening.

you laughed.

"so this was your plan?"

"maybe."

"lying about one more game?"

"that part wasn't the plan."

you looked up at him.

"then what was?"

he smiled before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

"this."

another kiss landed on your temple.

then your cheek.

then the corner of your mouth.

you giggled, trying to push him away.

"joão."

"yes?"

"you're distracting me."

he grinned.

"good."

"you're impossible."

"but you're smiling."

"...i am."

he rested his forehead against yours.

"worth it."

the forgotten match on the television timed out in the background, but neither of you noticed.

or cared.

because somehow, cuddling you had become much more important than winning any game.