João slammed the door, his footsteps heavy as he paced the room, tension radiating off him.

“João,” you called softly, watching him run a hand through his hair, his movements sharp and agitated. “What’s wrong?”

He stopped and turned to you, his eyes burning with frustration. “What’s wrong? Tudo tá errado!” he snapped, his voice cutting through the air. “Can’t you just- stop asking for one second?”

The words hit harder than you expected, and for a moment, the room was painfully silent. João shook his head, muttering under his breath as he turned away, leaving you standing there with the weight of his anger still lingering in the air.