“This is it,” João said, holding out his hand like a tour guide as you stepped out of the car. “The village. My kingdom.”

You blinked. “Your kingdom has… two cafés, a bakery, and a football pitch made of dirt.”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

It wasn’t glamorous. No skyscrapers. No fancy beach clubs. But the air was warm and soft, and the streets felt lived-in like they knew João before the world did. You watched him greet old women with kisses on the cheek and banter in Portuguese with wide eyed kids kicking plastic bottles down the road.

Here, he was just João. Not the star. Not the brand. Just a boy in worn sneakers and a backwards cap.

And he was completely in his element. The next few days were slow and golden. His mom made you pastel de nata from scratch and told stories about baby João and his obsession with Ronaldo. You watched him play barefoot with his little cousins in the garden until his shirt was stained with grass and his laugh rang through the orange trees.

One afternoon, you sat on a stone wall as he kicked a ball against it repeatedly, chest glistening in the sun, hair wild and messy.

“You staring again?” he asked, not turning around.

“Maybe,” you said casually. “You look like a local boy I used to have a crush on.”

He smirked, catching the ball under his foot and finally walking over to you.

“And did he like you back?”

“He does now,” you whispered.

He leaned in, lips brushing your cheek. “Good. Because I think he wants to take you to the lake tonight.”

That night, under a sky full of stars and fireflies, João took your hand and led you to a quiet dock outside town. You dipped your feet in the water, his arm wrapped around your waist, the soft splash of fish the only sound.

“You know,” he said after a long pause, “I’ve brought people here before. But never like this. Never… you.”

You leaned into him. “Feels like your whole world started here.”

“It did,” he murmured. “And I like that now… you’re part of it too.”

And just like that, with his lips brushing your temple and his fingers tangled with yours, you realized: this wasn’t just a vacation. You weren’t just visiting his world anymore. You were becoming part of it.