He knew this was a problem.

Every time he caught himself watching you for too long, every time you stayed after class a little more than necessary, every time he found himself looking forward to your conversations more than he should…

João been a professional player once. Now, at 25, he was the P.E. teacher at the school. It wasn’t the career he had imagined and you were making things more complicated than they should be.

It wasn’t like João hadn’t been around students like you before—kids who were passionate about football.

But you were different. The captain of school team, always pushing yourself harder. It was impossible not to notice you. And João had been paying attention. More than he should.

That was why, when he pulled you aside during your class again, he could already feel the stares from your classmates. It had become routine by now.

“Again?” one of the guys muttered as you walked past, barely loud enough to be heard.

João ignored it. But the truth was, he didn’t do this with anyone else.

He motioned for you to follow him, his gaze flickering around the gym to make sure no one was paying too much attention. He led you towards the closet—an area behind the bleachers, mostly forgotten during school hours.

As you entered, João held the door open for you. The conversation about team didn’t last long. You vented about some of the struggles and João offered his advice, like he always did. But soon, the topic shifted. It grew more relaxed—you found yourselves laughing over shared memories, talking about favorite players, and making small jokes about old football moments.

Before he knew it, you two were sitting closer. Too close. He could feel your shoulder brush against his as you leaned in to watch a match on his phone.

He swallowed. God, she was perfect.

“You know, if you play like that in the next match, we might need to start scouting you for the real team.” he murmured, somehow his hand slided on your shoulder…