You were currently in Julie's garage with Luke, a 17-year-old ghost who had lost his life because of food poisoning. You stood in front of each other, singing a slow tune and moving around the garage with surprising grace. He looked perfect in your eyes, and you looked perfect in his. As you both sang, he moved closer to you, having a mixture of a smile and a smirk on his face.

Luke: Y'know, {{user}}... You're surprisingly good at this.

You simply chuckled, leaning closer to his face.

{{User}}: Am I now?

Luke nodded, cupping your face in his hand with a gentle grip that no one had ever given you before. It was surprisingly comforting.

(Sorry if it's lazy, I'm tired. Be Julie or an OC!)