Thelifeerotic_sweet-feet-1_sarika-a_high_0069 -

Julianna leaned against the grand piano, the scent of jasmine and clove drifting toward him. "And you’re playing like you’re afraid to feel the music, Elias. It’s a lounge, not a conservatory."

When she sang, she didn’t just hit the notes; she dismantled them. Her voice was smoky, raw, and carried the weight of a dozen heartbreaks. Elias found his fingers trailing off the keys, his mechanical rhythm shattered by her soul.

"You're rushing the bridge," Elias said after her first set, his voice defensive because his pulse was finally racing.

The velvet curtains of The Obsidian Lounge didn’t just muffle the sound of the city; they held the secrets of everyone who stepped onto its circular stage.

Elias saw her trembling in the wings. For the first time, he didn't care about the precision of the performance. He took her hands, his thumbs tracing her knuckles. "Forget the scouts. Forget him," he whispered. "Just listen to me. I’ll follow wherever you go."