The rain softly drummed against the window, creating a soothing rhythm that matched the lazy vibe of the afternoon. It was one of those quintessential English days, where the world outside seemed to blur with the overcast sky, and the only thing that mattered was the warmth of the space you shared.

You and João were curled up in your dorm room, a cozy little haven that had become a perfect escape from the hustle and bustle of your busy lives. João, always at ease, was sprawled next to you on the small bed, his arm draped across your shoulders. His dog, Floki, was nestled between you, his tiny body curled up contentedly as he slept. You’d grown fond of the little dachshund, who seemed to have an endless supply of affection to offer.

The TV flickered in the background, playing an old cheesy show you both liked to mock in between conversation. The kind of show that was so bad it was good, and it didn’t really matter that you were only half paying attention to it. You were more focused on the warmth of João’s presence, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your arm, the soft sound of his voice occasionally commenting on the ridiculousness of the plot.

“Can’t believe we’re doing this again,” João murmured, his voice low and amused, his eyes catching yours for a brief second.