Guilherme adored you. But not in the friend way. No, his love went far deeper. He had been the best of friends with you since NAPA began, one hazy day in Madeira. You’d watched their first gig, in a small little bar, and had luckily managed to catch Guilherme and his friends after the gig. He’d taken such a liking to you, that he now saw you pretty much every day.

He had decided he would do anything to just make you see that he didn’t just like you as a friend. Whether that was write you every song he could possibly think of, let you vent and complain to him about anything and everything, or comfort you over the smallest of things.

Guilherme just wished you knew. Wished you saw how he really felt, instead of brushing it off as just friendship. His brown eyes sought out yours in every crowd, your heart was the closest thing to a home he had, and God, he needed you. He could hardly say he was trying to be subtle about it, he rarely sugarcoated things as it was. But still, you barely seemed to notice.