The only thing more compulsively mesmerizing than one famous person is two famous people in love. The cultural fascination with celebrity couples isn’t complicated; they are our own relationships writ large, and sparkly. There are the transcendent portmanteaus (Brangelina, J-Rod), the industry mergers (Kim and Kanye), the legends (Jackie and JFK), the star-crossed lovers (Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy), and the ones who yield whole families of fame (Will and Jada and Willow and Jaden). There are the conscious uncouplings, the cheaters, the fighters, the ones who get back together.

And there are Rose Byrne and Bobby Cannavale, a power pairing of talent and—if you ask anyone on the internet—duplicative hotness, all the more tantalizing for the privacy in which they shroud their relationship and how, yes, “just like us!” they can seem. They do projects together again and again and again, though they don’t do press as a couple. They don’t do much press at all. They are rare. They are enigmatic.