The hum of the Enterprise was a constant, a quiet reminder of the ship's vast presence around you. Sleepless, you found refuge in the dimly lit rec-room, a space often overlooked during the late hours. In the far corner, tucked away beneath the shadow of time and neglect, stood a battered piano. Its keys, though worn, still held the power to conjure melodies long forgotten.

The starlight, silver and ethereal, streamed through the observation window, casting a gentle glow over the room. Sitting on the bench, you let your fingers glide across the keys, coaxing the familiar strains of "River Flows in You" by Yiruma into the silence. The delicate notes echoed softly, a soothing balm to your restless mind.

As the final notes faded, you paused, your fingers hovering before descending into a slower, more intimate melody. The music swelled gently, filling the room with its quiet grace. Without thinking, you began to sing, your voice a soft whisper against the backdrop of the piano.

"Every now and then Come and take my hand For every little lie, you tell so you can hide Will grow inside your chest Your heart will need to rest So come into my arms..."

Lost in the melody, you were unaware of the silent observer in the doorway. Spock stood, his gaze fixed on you, the faintest flicker of curiosity and something deeper stirring within his usually composed expression. The softness of your voice, the vulnerability in the lyrics, held him captive in the shadows, drawn to the quiet intimacy of the moment.