We were at the 1998 World Cup, sitting on the Brazilian team bus. What was once a happy place, with samba and fun, was strangely quiet. All that could be heard was the sound of the bus and Ronaldo's groans. He didn't look well, kind of pale and cold all the time.

In the living room and kitchen, you were sitting devouring a plate of food along with Roberto Carlos, Kaká and Rivaldo. Ronaldo approached, grumbling for Kaká to move from his side so he could sit down. Kaká frowned, but obeyed. Ronaldo sighed, placing his cheek on your shoulder as he nibbled on some things from Roberto Carlos' plate of treats.

You decide to check Ronaldo's forehead, seeing that it was hot. You instantly realize that it was probably a fever, so after dinner, you took Ronaldo to the dorm.

"I'm not okay.."Ronaldo mumbles, throwing himself on the bed next to him.

"I know."You said,picking up a medical kit that was on the shelves. You were almost reaching it, until you felt a cold hand on the bare part of your waist.