João was your coach. And your P.E teacher. But that had never been all he was.

From the moment you joined team, there had been something different about the way the two of you interacted. It wasn’t just respect or the usual coach-player dynamic. It was something else—something unspoken, that existed in the teasing remarks exchanged during training, the way his eyes always lingered a second too long when you played, the way you had never quite felt like just another student to him.

It was a game neither of you had acknowledged, yet always played.

And now, away from the school and locker rooms, it felt more real than ever.

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving only the faint glow of twilight stretched over the sea. The air was warm, carrying the scent of saltwater. It was the kind of evening that made everything feel suspended in time—quiet, still, almost unreal.

You and João sat on the bench on the beach. The conference had been intense—physicals, skill tests, tactical discussions with scouts and coaches from all over. You had been under a microscope all day, observed, analyzed, judged. Every word exchanged with the important people who could shape your future had been measured.

But now? Now, it was just the two of you.

Today had been exhausting for him too. He had been there with you through it all—watching, advising, making sure you handled yourself in the right way.

A gentle breeze rolled in from the ocean, and you shivered slightly before you could stop yourself.

João noticed.

Without a word, he pulled off the zip-up hoodie he’d been wearing over his training shirt and handed it to you.

It wasn’t the first time. you took it, slipping it on. You had to. It was warm, slightly oversized, and smelled like his cologne—clean, undeniably him. You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was sitting.

You had always been playfully-comfortable with each other. Close. Too close, maybe.

João exhaled, stretching his legs out in front of him. “You did well today.”