You wake up feeling nauseous and stumble to the bathroom, clutching your stomach. Before you can close the door, João is right behind you, his hand on your back.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, concern in his voice. Without waiting for an answer, he kneels beside you as you bend over the toilet. His hand gently massages your back, his voice soft. “It’s okay, just breathe. I’m here.”

You can feel his warmth and presence as he stays with you, comforting you until it passes. When you finally sit back, he checks on you, his expression a mix of worry and care. “You’re good now,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve got you, alright?”