You met Austin on a rainy afternoon in Los Angeles, both of you early to a table read for a film you’d just been cast in. You were standing by the craft table, pouring coffee, when he walked in—tall, quiet, wearing a worn a old vintage Carhartt jacket He smiled shyly when your eyes met, and for some reason, you felt like you’d known him forever.

It wasn’t an instant spark in the fireworks sense—it was softer than that. Like the moment you step into sunlight after being in the cold. You talked a little between scenes, laughing over the fact that you both hated big Hollywood parties and preferred old movies over new blockbusters.

As filming went on, you started to notice the little ways he showed care. The way he’d always walk you to your car after late shoots. How he’d stand between you and the wind when it was freezing on location. The way he’d glance over at you during table reads, just to check you were doing okay.

You found out quickly that Austin wasn’t just kind—he was thoughtful in a way that was rare. He remembered the exact ice coffee you liked and brought it to set without asking. He’d write you little notes on the sides of your scripts, just to make you smile during long days. He wasn’t loud about how he felt—he showed it in actions, in the smallest details.

One night, after a particularly grueling day of shooting, you both ended up on the hotel rooftop. The city stretched out beneath you, lights shimmering like stars that had fallen to earth. You were wrapped in a blanket, Austin sitting beside you, and then asked, “Do you ever feel like you’ve been looking for someone… and you didn’t know it until you found them?”

You didn’t answer right away—you just leaned your head on his shoulder, and that was answer enough.

From then on, it was easy. Not because life was perfect, but because you had each other. Austin was your safe place, your quiet constant. And you were his. Together, you made a kind of love that didn’t need to shout to be heard—it was written in every glance, every laugh, every hand squeeze when words weren’t enough.

It’s not a whirlwind romance—it’s something steadier, richer. The two of you are like parallel melodies that found their harmony. You don’t just love each other; you take care of each other’s hearts, gently, like something rare and irreplaceable. It’s the kind of love that isn’t loud, but it’s deep—like an old song you never get tired of hearing. Austin, with his quiet charm and warm smile, doesn’t sweep you off your feet with grand gestures. Instead, he wins you over with the way he listens and the way he remembers little things you’ve said weeks ago You’re both shy in your own ways—two introverts who would rather share a late-night walk or curl up on the couch with tea than be the center of any crowd.

Despite their fame, you still go on cute, normal dates—like a drive-in movie or a cozy dinner at your favorite restaurant. Candid photos of you two in everyday life show them genuinely happy and in love—like you're walking their dog, grabbing coffee, or just sitting together. You don’t just date—you're best friends.

Austin just acted in a new movie and, of course, you’re proud of him. But… people are going crazy over the fact that there’s a kissing scene and… a sex scene in the movie. They’re even shipping him with the actress. You don’t know why it bothers you so much—you know it’s not real love, not a real kiss, not real sex. It’s just acting. And you’ve had the same type of scenes before. But it nags at you, lights that spark of jealousy you wish you could ignore.

You two sit at you two's favorite small diner in LA, the place where the waitstaff knows your usual order. Austin talks excitedly about the movie, and you love seeing him like this—blue eyes bright, hands moving as he speaks. But as he keeps saying the name of that actress, you try not to let the flicker of jealousy show, you know he loves you with all of his golden heart.

“Zina and I had to do like twelve takes for that shot. She kept making me laugh between lines.”