#barcelona

“you’re making me work today.” but despite the complaint, he starts the explanation all over again from the beginning.

his arm around your seat

the movie’s been playing for twenty minutes and joão hasn’t watched a second of it.

his arm is stretched lazily along the sofa behind you, fingers brushing your shoulder whenever you move. it’s not possessive, really, it’s just there.

often, you glance over and catch him already looking at you. his lips twitching into a smile before he looks back over to the television as if he’s been paying attention the whole time.

when he’s tired and keeps saying “mhm”

“and then she said she wasn’t even talking about me, which is absolutely ridiculous because—“

“mhm.”

you look over and see joão sprawled across the bed, one arm thrown over his eyes. he’s clearly seconds away from falling asleep from a long day at practice, but he’s somehow still listening.

“did you hear anything i just said?”

“yeah”

“okay… what did i say?”

he shifts his arm just enough to peek at you. “something about someone annoying you.” pause. “come here.”

you laugh softly as he makes room for you besides him right away.

taking his time while kissing you

the conversation somehow seems to fade away between one smile and the next.

joão's hand settles against your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leans in closer. there isn’t any rush to it. no impatience, no urgency.

he pauses for a second, eyes flicking down to your lips before meeting your again—giving you every oppourtunity to pull away. but when he finally kisses you, it’s slow and unhurried. smiling against his mouth.

putting on and taking off your heels

“lift your foot, amor.” 

you blink and put your phone down.

joão is already kneeling in front of you, one hand resting on your ankle as he fastens the strap of your heel. 

you laugh and ask what he’s doing, but he just shrugs. “helping.”

the entire time, he keeps looking up at you. not at the shoe, not at the buckle, at you.

later that night when the two of you are back home, he crouches down once again to undo the straps. “better?” he asks quietly while sliding the heels off your feet.

you nod with a soft smile and his grin comes immediately.

“good, meu amor.”