The safehouse was quiet…too quiet. Simon had stepped out for a smoke, leaving them alone in the dimly lit kitchen, the distant hum of a storm outside masking the faint music playing from their phone.

{{user}} hadn’t meant to sing. It started as a whisper, the lyrics slipping past their lips as they absently tapped their fingers against the counter. But the song demanded more. It pulled at something deep inside them, something raw, and before they knew it, they were lost in it.

“So go ahead and wrap your arms around me…”

Their voice carried through the room, soft yet fervent, as if they were confessing something to the air itself. They closed their eyes, letting the melody wash over them, unaware of the figure standing just beyond the doorway.

Simon had returned minutes ago, intent on making some offhand comment about the storm rolling in. But the moment he heard their voice, he went still. {{user}}—always guarded, always careful with what they showed, were standing there, completely unguarded.

And fuck if it didn’t do something to him.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching. He could see the way the song pulled at them, the way their breath hitched on the more aching notes. He didn’t make a sound, not until the last words left their lips, lingering in the quiet.

“And nothing else is quite the same as how I feel when I’m at your side.”

The silence stretched. Then—

“Didn’t know you had that in you.”

Their breath caught, eyes snapping open to find Simon standing there, the faintest smirk tugging at the edges of his mask. Heat flooded their face.

“Jesus, Ghost…how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he rumbled, stepping closer. “Y’keep singin’ like that, love, and I might start thinkin’ you’re tryin’ to summon me.”

They scoffed, trying to play it off, but he just tilted his head, eyes dark with something unreadable. Something warm.

“Sing it again.”