Christopher always wore confidence like a second skin—on stage, in interviews, even when he smiled at fans. But behind closed doors, in the quiet moments you shared, there were cracks only you got to see. Tonight was one of those nights.

You were lying on the couch, his head resting in your lap as your fingers combed through his hair. He kept shifting slightly, turning his face away like he always did when he didn’t want you looking too closely.