He’d wanted to go public for months. Begged, even — not pushy, just quiet little hints whenever the topic came up. Mason had never been shy about loving you, and the secrecy never sat right with him. He didn’t want to hide you.

You weren’t famous — just a normal girl who somehow ended up in his world. You’d warned him that alone could get messy, but he never cared.

“I want them to know you’re mine,” he’d whispered once, nose brushing your collarbone. “And I want them to know I’m yours.”

So eventually, you gave in.

You posted the video to his TikTok — your idea. The “I love The Smiths!” audio played while you lip-synced it perfectly, turning the camera toward him. On screen he blinked at you, confused.

“What?”

You repeated it, smiling.

Then he leaned in and kissed you — quick, real, and completely unplanned. The camera jolted as the bed bounced once, twice, and you both disappeared out of frame. The video cut there, but it didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Within minutes it was everywhere.

Your name, your socials, your face — people found you fast. Fifty thousand new Instagram followers in under half an hour. Stitches, reposts, comments replaying the moment.

“I knew it.” “They’re real.” “He looks at her like she hung the stars.”

Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Part of you was thrilled. Another part of you was overwhelmed.

Then Mason shifted behind you, arm sliding lazily around your waist. You reached for your phone again, but he caught your hand without even opening his eyes.

“Put it down,” he mumbled sleepily.

He kissed your shoulder, then your cheek, gently taking the phone from your hand and setting it out of reach before tucking his face against your neck with a quiet, content breath.

The internet might’ve just discovered you.

But Mason only pulled you closer — like he was finally allowed to show the world the person he loved most.