Sing To Me

The pair began their journey to the nearest karaoke bar, a place Dorian had never visited before, but if Emma was going, he had no problem tagging along.

They hopped onto her motorcycle and reached the place within minutes, avoiding what would have been a long walk.

The building was two stories tall and stretched out wide, resembling an inn with various rooms.

Each one was small and soundproof, made specifically for private singing sessions.

The man who signed them in was short and immediately gave Emma a once-over before offering a smile in welcome.

Dorian wanted to say something, but quickly remembered that everyone in town seemed to know each other.

The man simply waved at Emma, and she returned the gesture.

"Norman, how are you doing? Do tell me there's a booth for us," she said.

The man, who looked just a little older than them, checked his tablet and skimmed through a list before highlighting three entries.

"Of course, Em. Just let me know where you want it, second floor, near the entrance, or deeper into the hall."

He showed them the three options, and Emma chose the one on the second floor.

"That one should be fine. You know I don't like singing near a crowd."

"Sure thing," Norman replied. "Just remember, it's only two hours, so finish anything you're doing in there within that time frame."

Emma gave him a pointed look.

By now, Dorian had picked up on the guy's preferences, especially since the one Norman really seemed drawn to was him.

"Let's go, Dorian. We need to sing our lungs out. That room's my favorite, it gives us a great view of the city."

Dorian was pulled along as they headed up the stairs behind the counter and made their way to the third room in the corner.

He expected glass walls like the ones downstairs, but the top floor was clearly more private, more like a hotel than a public karaoke bar.

As they entered the room, Emma took off her jacket and flopped onto the sofa like it was her own living room, casually flipping through the remote for a song to start the night.

"You seem pretty used to this..." Dorian said, glancing around the room.

He initially aimed for a spot on the opposite end of the couch but ended up sitting beside Emma instead.

She immediately shifted, adjusting her position to make room for him.

"Used to come here with my mom after her work shifts," she explained. "Then with Reese after tough exams. And sometimes just on my own after work to clear my head. This place is practically my second room."

Dorian gave the place a better look.

It had clearly been cleaned recently; the faint scent of cleaning products still lingered in the air.

The window had been cracked open, probably to air out the smell.

The seats looked polished and well cared for.

A large flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall, paired with a decent soundbar.

The soundproofing was solid, but only the window seemed capable of letting anything in or out.

"Looks good," he said, running a finger along the edge of the small table. "At least they clean it well. No grease stains, even with food service."

He could see the table's surface reflecting the circular ceiling lights, which began to pulse softly as Emma navigated the menu.

"Yeah, well, the second floor is basically a hotel," Emma said with a smirk. "Didn't even realize it until a couple went wild one day and started banging the wall next door…"

She trailed off, then quickly changed the subject.

"Anyway, back to singing. I want at least three songs out of you before we leave."

Dorian noticed the abrupt topic shift.

It was clear she hadn't thought through what she just said and their current situation, but he found the flustered recovery kind of cute.

He nodded, playing along with her energy, and picked up a wireless microphone just as Emma queued up a track.

She'd chosen a high-energy song one Dorian only vaguely recognized from the melody.

Still, he joined in with a grin, bobbing his head to the rhythm.

Emma, on the other hand, began to sing softly at first.

Her voice wasn't professional, but it carried a gentle, practiced quality like someone who sang often, even if only for herself.

After the first song, Emma switched to something more relaxed, a hip-hop track, probably to give her voice a break.

"Alright, your turn. Which one do you want?" she asked, handing him the tablet.

Dorian inwardly winced. He had hoped she wouldn't ask.

His personal playlist was limited and, worse, filled with songs no one else really listened to.

"Just pick the one you think sounds best for a guy," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't even know the names of the ones I like."

Emma gave him a look like he'd just committed a sin.

With a dramatic shake of her head, she started scrolling through suggestions on the tablet.

"I swear… Okay, here we'll start with something easy. It's country, mellow, and it should sound good with your voice. Just remember to add in a little style."

Dorian sighed and took the mic.

He wasn't confident, at least not in the first ten seconds.

But then something clicked. He felt something stir in his vocal cords, something strong.

[Time to have fun, kid,] Yamir purred in his mind. [I need my meal, and you need the sexiest voice this town's ever heard. Just pray no girl's listening outside or in the next room for your sake.]

Before Dorian could protest, his voice came out.

It was still his, but smoother, raspier, deeper, and refined.

It resonated with a strange power that made even him pause internally.

He risked a glance at Emma.

Her expression shifted with every note.

She unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold something back and still losing the battle slightly.

Her breath deepened.

Her eyes softened.

When the song ended, thankfully, it was the short version. Dorian lowered the mic and looked her way.

"So… how was it?"

Emma blinked like someone waking from a trance.

"What was that?" she said, her voice quiet but intense. "My skin literally crawled. Are you sure you haven't studied music? Or that one of your parents isn't a famous singer?"

Dorian tilted his head. "Nope. Pretty sure no one in my family sings… and my voice? Definitely not something people would pay to hear."

Emma stared at him, stunned. It was true his voice didn't sound "trained."

It wasn't polished enough to be that of a singer.

But there was something off about it.

Something that made her feel off, too.

She couldn't settle down.

Her heart still raced, her breath refusing to calm down.

Emma shifted slightly on the couch, subtly adjusting so that her skin wouldn't brush against Dorian's, not even by accident.

She had no idea what might happen if it did.

Something inside her felt too volatile, like the wrong spark might set it all off.

"I guess I'll do the next song," she said quickly, trying to reset the mood. "You looked exhausted after just one."

It was a flimsy excuse, but she didn't care.

Emma selected her favorite track, one she usually sang to unwind, but her thoughts wouldn't cooperate.

The echo of Dorian's voice lingered in her mind, whirling around her like smoke.

She couldn't forget the way it had sounded.

It wasn't just that it was deep or smooth; it was dangerous. It tickled something beneath her skin, stirred something low within her chest.

And worse… a part of her wanted to feel it again.

As she sang, her fingers hovered above the tablet without her realizing it. Her mind spun in a quiet loop. What if he sang something romantic? Something personal?

And best of all, up close…

The idea came like a whisper.

At first, she ignored it.

But the thought kept returning louder every time.

What would it feel like, hearing those lyrics from him?

By the time her song ended, Emma's breath was uneven again.

She didn't hesitate.

She tapped through the menu and found exactly what she needed: something slow, heartfelt, and heavy with meaning.

She didn't even ask.

She just handed him the mic and pressed play.