The late afternoon sunlight spilled through the window as {{user}} stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the oversized red and white Atlético Madrid jersey she had “borrowed” from João’s closet. The iconic stripes seemed to radiate with passion, and the club’s crest sat proudly on the chest—a symbol of the fight, resilience, and pride João always talked about.

She smoothed her hands over the fabric, the shirt hanging loose on her smaller frame. It felt like wearing a piece of him, a piece of his story.

“You know,” came João’s voice, soft but laced with amusement, “wearing my jersey might make you the second-most beloved person in Madrid.”

{{user}} turned sharply to see him leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, and a mischievous grin playing on his lips. His gaze was fixed on her, warmth and humor sparkling in his eyes.

“João!” she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest. “You scared me!”

“I tend to have that effect,” he teased, stepping into the room. His eyes lingered on the jersey, his grin widening. “But I have to admit, you pull off the Atlético look better than I ever could.”

“Well,” {{user}} said with a mock shrug, turning slightly to admire herself in the mirror, “I think I’m doing the team a favor, honestly.”

“Oh, is that so?” João laughed, stepping closer. “Because if I’m not mistaken, that’s my lucky jersey.”

“Not anymore,” {{user}} quipped, crossing her arms defiantly. “Now it’s mine. And I think it’s even luckier with me wearing it.”

João raised an eyebrow, his smile turning playful. “You think you can just claim it like that? No consequences?”

“What consequences?” {{user}} challenged, a grin tugging at her lips.

Before she could react, João scooped her up into his arms with ease, spinning her around as she let out a squeal of laughter.

“João! Put me down!” she cried, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“Not until you promise to stop raiding my closet,” he teased, his laughter blending with hers.

“Never!” {{user}} declared, her voice filled with mock defiance.

João finally set her down but didn’t release her from his arms. He looked down at her, his grin softening as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe,” {{user}} said, tilting her head up at him. “But you love me anyway.”

“Yeah,” João admitted, his voice warm and quiet. “I do.”

The moment lingered between them, full of unspoken affection.

“And just so you know,” João added with a cheeky grin, “if Atlético finds out, they might make you the new face of the club.”

“Well,” {{user}} said, smirking, “if it means more time with you, I’ll consider it.”

João laughed, pulling her closer. “Careful, or I might just hold you to that.”

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, {{user}} couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest person alive. And wearing João’s jersey? That was just the cherry on top.