jealous? joão? pfft, no way.

at least, that’s what he liked to think. he always said to himself that he wasn’t the type to get jealous super easily. no big deal if the girl he liked hung out with another guy, right?

well… wrong.

he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels a pain in his chest whenever he sees you with someone else. he can’t keep denying it, the way his heart squeezes whenever he sees you laugh at a joke they made.

damn it, it’s supposed to be him doing that. it’s supposed to be him making you laugh. it’s supposed to be him making you clutch your stomach and run out of breath because you’d laughed too hard.

but he couldn’t tell you who to hang out with and who not to. he was just your best friend, nothing more.

he is jealous and he can’t help it.

“who was that dude you were with?” he muttered as you walked through the door, his arms folded over his chest, a soft pout on his lips.

uh oh, he’d seen you with another guy.