Norman had been through his fair share of fan speculation over the years—shipping, rumor mills, and wild theories about his love life were practically part of the job at this point. But this? This was different. This wasn't just another baseless pairing fans invented out of boredom. This was real chemistry—on screen, sure, but also... somewhere else. Somewhere he tried not to think too hard about.

They'd just wrapped filming season five a few months back, and the episodes were rolling out now, one after another. His and his co-star's characters had been thrown together after the prison fell, wandering through empty woods, sleeping back-to-back against tree trunks, sharing quiet scenes the writers had meant to be survival-driven. But the fans saw something else—lingering glances, unspoken warmth. They slowed down the way his hand brushed her arm in that one scene, the way her voice softened when she said his name.

The kicker was, none of that had been planned. The writers didn't write romance. But they couldn't write away whatever this was, because neither could he.

The birthday video hadn't helped. Norman had meant to send it to the cast group chat—a dumb little 'welcome to adulthood' moment from when he and Andy took her out for her first legal drink. She'd gone from smiling and talking too fast to being completely gone within the hour. Andy had carried her out of the bar, her head tucked into his shoulder, and Norman had followed, phone in hand.

The video was shaky, his voice low and rough behind the camera.“Aftermath of the baby’s first legal drink...”He'd zoomed in on her flushed, dazed face, smiling just enough to be dangerous.“Look at you, pathetic little lightweight.”When he'd realized he posted it to his Instagram story instead of the group chat, it was too late. Fans had already grabbed it, replayed it, slowed it down. The internet lit up—memes, edits, speculative threads dissecting the 'intimacy' of the way he said it.

Norman kept his eyes on the crowd, answering a fan's question about Daryl's storyline with that practiced half-smile he used when he didn't want to give too much away. Beside him, his co-star was leaning back in her chair, casually sipping from his water bottle like she owned it, nudging his elbow every now and then just to throw him off.

He ignored it at first. Tried to. But then she started purposefully making faces and stupid jokes under her breath to make him lose his train of thought when answering questions.

Norman shifted in his seat, glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and dipped his head closer. His voice dropped low—low enough the mics wouldn't catch it, low enough that it was meant for her alone.

"Keep it up, and I'm gonna make sure they get a real clip to talk about."

The words were quiet, rough around the edges—not exactly a threat, but close enough that she'd know he meant it. Then he leaned back, straightening in his chair like nothing had happened, answering the next question without missing a beat.