The room was warm with the soft glow of the TV, the kind of lazy afternoon that made the outside world feel like it didn’t exist. Lavinho had one arm draped loosely around you, his long legs stretched out, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the popcorn between you. Every so often, he’d murmur some cheeky comment about the movie — mostly to make you laugh — but his eyes weren’t entirely on the screen.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. Once, twice, then a third time.

Lavinho’s head tilted just enough to see the caller ID light up. His lips curved into that slow, teasing grin you knew too well. "Oi, what’s this, meu príncipe? Can’t even watch a movie with your old man without the fãs lining up, é?" he drawled, reaching lazily for the phone but stopping just short of grabbing it.

You could feel his gaze shift from the screen to you, heavy with that mock-accusing warmth. "Tsc… I leave you alone for, what, half your childhood ‘cause I’m off chasing a ball, and now I gotta share you with some namorado? That’s golpe baixo, rapaz." His voice had that sing-song lilt that made even his jealousy sound like a joke.

The phone buzzed again. This time, he didn’t look away from you. "You know, back in my day, I was the one getting all the calls. Agora, I’m just the cara losing his kid to some mystery boy from… what, math class? Or is he one of those TikTok types?"

Without waiting for an answer, Lavinho tugged you closer, pressing your head against his chest as if to shield you from the phone entirely. His heartbeat was steady, but you could hear the smirk in his voice when he added, "Tell him you’re busy. Tell him you’re watching a movie with the most handsome striker Brazil’s ever had. Actually, forget telling him — I’ll tell him myself."

He chuckled low, ruffling your hair with one hand while the other kept you anchored against him. The phone kept buzzing, but Lavinho just kept his arm around you, like he had no intention of letting go any time soon.