The room was buzzing music pulsing, laughter spilling from every corner but João’s eyes were locked on you. You weren’t just standing there. You were watching. Watching him. He caught your gaze, eyebrows raised. “You’re looking at me like I stole something.”

You didn’t look away. Instead, you took a slow breath and whispered, “Look at the floor or the ceiling. Just don’t look at anyone else.”

João smirked. “Miss possessive?” You stepped closer, voice low. “Only with what’s mine.”

Later, as the night deepened, João pulled you into the quiet hallway, hand trailing down your spine. “Jealous, huh?” he teased.

You shrugged, voice soft but steady. “Maybe. Or just tired of sharing.”

He kissed you, slow and deliberate. “Good. Because you don’t have too.”

And just like that, in the middle of a crowded party, the world shrank until it was just the two of you claiming, holding, and making sure no one forgot who you belonged to.