"Is this his latest one? I haven't heard it," Naomi asked, tilting her head as the mellow guitar strums filled the car. Her voice carried genuine curiosity, the kind of eagerness that made her sound younger, lighter than she had in weeks.Michael's hand rested easily on the steering wheel, his other tapping to the beat against the console. He glanced at her briefly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yes," he confirmed. "Actually came out like three days ago."Naomi's eyes widened a little. "Wow. I'm definitely adding it to my playlist." The words slipped out with more enthusiasm than she intended, but she didn't take them back. Her body swayed subtly in rhythm, shoulders relaxing as the song carried her along.
Michael's smile deepened, amused by how easily she lit up. "His songs always get me," he said, his voice low, almost drowned by the music. But she heard it. And she saw it—the way he mouthed the lyrics softly, like someone who knew them by heart already.Naomi caught herself watching him, her chest warming at the sight. She turned quickly to the window, hiding her smile. "Yeah, me too," she said, her voice quieter. "I had one of his songs on repeat for more than a week straight in my house."That made Michael chuckle, a rich sound that filled the space between them. His gaze flicked toward her, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Really?""Yes," Naomi replied, nodding firmly.His curiosity piqued. "Which one?"She hesitated, her lips tugging at the corner, almost like she was shy about admitting it. "Hurt So Bad," she finally said, her voice carrying the confession like a secret.Michael's eyebrows lifted, his grin spreading.
He leaned forward slightly, his fingers dancing over the car's console with easy familiarity. "You mean this one?" he asked, pressing the button.A new melody filled the car, and within seconds, Dean Lewis' voice poured through the speakers, raw and aching.Naomi's head snapped toward him, her smile blooming wide, unrestrained. "Yes, yes!" she exclaimed, laughing lightly as the opening notes wrapped around her like an old friend.Michael stole a glance at her reaction, satisfaction clear in his expression. "I love it too," he admitted. His tone carried no hesitation—just simple, honest truth.And then, without thinking, they both began to sing along.
At first, Naomi's voice was soft, tentative, barely rising above the track. But Michael's voice joined in with surprising confidence, warm and steady, and something about that steadiness pulled hers out too.Her laughter slipped between lines, but soon she was fully caught in the moment—singing, swaying, her hands lightly tapping against her thighs.
Michael matched her energy, his voice blending with hers in imperfect harmony. He wasn't trying to impress her. He was simply enjoying the song, enjoying her. And that made it all the more intoxicating.The car transformed into something more than a vehicle—it became a cocoon, sealed tight against the world outside. The city lights flashing through the windshield became their stage lights; the hum of the engine was the bass beneath the melody.Naomi stole a glance at him mid-chorus, her heart lurching unexpectedly. His profile was lit by the glow of passing headlights, his lips moving to the words with an easy smile, his hand drumming against the steering wheel in time with the beat.
He looked carefree, unguarded.She looked away quickly, but the heat blooming in her chest didn't fade.The chorus hit, and Naomi lifted her voice, louder this time, letting it carry. She laughed when her pitch cracked slightly, covering her face with her hand in mock embarrassment.Michael's laughter followed hers, low and unrestrained. "Hey," he said between lines, still singing, "that wasn't bad!"Naomi peeked at him through her fingers, her eyes sparkling. "Don't lie.""I'm not lying!" he insisted, his grin boyish now. "You've got a good voice."Her lips curved upward despite herself, and she dropped her hand, letting herself fall back into the song. She didn't care if she sounded imperfect anymore. It wasn't about sounding good. It was about this—this lightness, this shared rhythm, this unexpected closeness forming note by note.As the verse softened again, Naomi let herself sink into the lyrics, mouthing the words like they belonged to her.Why does it hurt so bad…She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the rawness of the words dig into her chest. Dean's voice carried the ache, but the way Michael hummed along made it feel less heavy, more bearable.When she opened her eyes, Michael was looking at her—not staring, not intrusive, just… watching. His lips moved with the lyrics, but his gaze held hers for a beat too long before he turned back to the road.Naomi's breath caught, her pulse stumbling. She quickly looked back out the window, her heart thudding as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't.But she smiled, even if he couldn't see it.The song swelled again, and both of them gave in completely.
Their voices filled the car, clashing and blending, laughter spilling between the lyrics. Naomi tapped her foot against the floorboard, Michael drummed the steering wheel harder, and for those few minutes, it felt like they weren't two people in the early stages of something fragile and uncertain—they were simply two souls vibing, connecting over something as simple as music.When the final notes faded, the car fell into silence again—except it wasn't the same silence as before.
This one was warmer, charged, filled with something unspoken but undeniably there.Naomi exhaled softly, her body leaning back into the seat. Her cheeks ached faintly from smiling so much, and she hadn't even noticed.Michael glanced at her, a quiet smile still tugging at his lips. "So," he said casually, his tone light, "you've been keeping that voice of yours a secret all this time?"Naomi turned her head, feigning shock. "What voice?"He chuckled, shaking his head as he shifted gears. "That one. The one that just sang an entire song without missing a beat."She rolled her eyes playfully, though the corners of her lips betrayed her. "Please. You're exaggerating.""Not at all." His tone was easy, but there was sincerity in it, unshakable.
Naomi looked down at her hands, twisting them lightly in her lap, her smile lingering. She didn't know what to say to that, so she didn't. Instead, she let the quiet stretch, filled again by the soft hum of the next track that queued automatically.But her heart was still drumming, alive with the memory of their voices tangled together.