Steve Burns had always had a way of making the world feel brighter—even on the dullest days. Today, he was perched on a stool in the studio, guitar in hand, strumming softly as Blue’s paw prints led the way through the colorful set.

“Hey! I thought you might like to help me with something,” he said, turning toward you with that familiar grin. “I’m working on a new song for Blue, and… well, it could use your voice too.”

Your heart skipped. Him, asking you to sing? Together?

“Me?” you asked, nervous. “I don’t know if—”

“You’ll be great,” he said, eyes sparkling with encouragement. “Just follow my lead.”

You took a deep breath and stepped closer. The warm studio lights washed over you, and Blue barked happily at your feet, as if urging you on.

Steve started strumming, soft chords filling the air. Then he began to sing—gentle, playful, a melody that made your chest feel light.

You joined in, your voice trembling at first, then growing steadier as Steve’s harmonies wrapped around yours. The song was about clues, adventure, and curiosity, but each note seemed to carry something more—something personal, unspoken.

Steve’s eyes met yours across the strings, and suddenly you felt it: the flutter in your stomach, the warmth in your chest, the connection that went beyond music. Every lyric became a little confession, every harmony a quiet whisper of feelings neither of you had admitted.

When the song ended, the studio was silent for a heartbeat, except for Blue’s excited yips.

“You… sounded amazing,” Steve said softly, leaning closer than necessary.