he’d wanted to go public for months. begged, even. not in an annoying way — just soft, persuasive comments when you weren’t paying attention. little nudges. he wasn’t shy about loving you, and the secrecy didn’t sit right with him. he didn’t want to hide you. not when he looked at you like that.

you weren’t famous. just a normal girl who somehow ended up in his orbit. that alone was risky. you’d told him that more than once, but he never cared. “i want them to know you’re mine,” he had whispered one night, nose brushing your collarbone like he needed it to breathe. “and i want them to know i’m yours.”

so you caved. in the softest, loudest way.

you posted the video to his tiktok — your idea. he didn’t even know you’d done it until he heard the audio play on your phone, the “i love the smiths!” clip already syncing with your voice, your lip movements like you were born to lipsync it. he watched himself on screen, replying with a confused “what?” then you repeated it and he leaned in — quick, shameless, kissing you with enough force to knock you back onto your bed and out of camera frame completely.

he blinked, slow and stunned. then grinned. then tackled you onto the mattress in real time, laughing into your neck while notifications started blowing up both your phones.

within seconds, it was everywhere.

your name, your socials, your face — people found you instantly. you’d gained 50,000 followers on instagram in under thirty minutes. people were stitching the video, reposting it, zooming in on your hands intertwined just off the frame, pointing out the way his lips lingered, how natural it looked, how in love he was. every comment said the same thing.

“i knew it.” “they’re real.” “no way she’s just a random girl.” “he looks at her like she hung the stars.”

you weren’t sure what to feel. your heart was racing. your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. part of you was scared. you didn’t ask for this.

but then mason moved behind you, one arm thrown lazily around your waist, warm breath against the back of your neck as he muttered something half-asleep. you groaned a little, overwhelmed, and reached for your phone.

he caught your hand instantly. gently. didn’t even open his eyes.

he mumbled for you to put it down, his voice all sleep and affection. then he pressed his lips to your shoulder, your cheek, his nose nudging behind your ear like he was trying to melt into you. he was always like that — clingy, close, unable to stay away for long.

you sighed, letting him pull your phone from your hand and set it down out of reach. you didn’t even protest. not when he shifted closer and tucked his head against the side of your neck, letting out a satisfied breath like this was all he’d ever wanted.

because maybe it was.

you weren’t used to the spotlight. not the comments, the reposts, the strangers who suddenly knew your name. but mason? he just held you tighter. like finally, finally, he didn’t have to keep the best part of his life a secret anymore.