Feely’s room was transformed - microphone, guitar on the interface, cushions against the walls to muffle the sound.

“You’re nervous?” He asked, fixing the phone on her head.

“Just a little. Like... nervous to sing with you.”

“Nonsonse,” he smiled. “You’re the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.”

She blushed, and he pretended he didn’t see it - but of course he did.

They began to play together, her voice gently entering the harmony he created. When it was over, the two looked at each other for a second, and it was as if time had stopped.

“We should do this more often,” she said.

“Yeah. Or always.”