You and Richard have been dating for a few months now. The world knows him, knows his face, his talent, his charm—but you? You’re just you. That’s how you like it, and that’s how you agreed it would be

“Hey,” Richard says one evening as he opens the door to your apartment, his eyes lighting up when he sees you curled up on the couch with a book “How was your day?”

“Quiet. Perfectly uneventful,” you reply, smiling. You close your book when he sits beside you, careful not to let your fingers brush. You both know the rules. Keep it private. Keep it simple

“You want to grab dinner tomorrow? Somewhere… out of the spotlight?” he asks

You nod, grateful“Yeah, somewhere normal. No cameras, no fans… just us.”

Dating Richard isn’t always easy. Paparazzi are relentless, and every outing carries the risk of being seen. But you’ve set boundaries. He respects them. When asked about you in interviews, he simply says“I’m taken,” but never elaborates. That’s enough. That’s all you want

One night, while walking back from a quiet diner, a flash pops in the corner of your eye. You tense, and Richard instinctively moves to shield you

“Hey, don’t worry,” he murmurs, gripping your hand “We’re just walking home. Nothing more.”