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The thing about moving in with someone was the fact that despite being together for awhile, you tended to learn new things by being in each other’s spaces.
For example, Darryl had no idea that Becky could sing.
Well, okay, he knew that she
could
, almost anyone could – except Henry, poor guy couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. But he didn’t know that she
did
.
He found out when he came home to their little condo one day after his internship was over for the day. He walked in and took his shoes off at the door, taking a moment to say hi to Leo who came trotting over – his mom had insisted they take the labrador with them when they moved out, and with Leo pushing eight he’d slowed down a considerable amount. Darryl scratched behind the dog’s ear before taking his jacket off and hanging it up on the rack they had by the door.
That’s when he heard it. A light tune being carried from the kitchen, and a soft, melodious voice he hadn’t heard before.
“Oh, Ophelia
You’ve been on my mind girl, since the flood
Oh, Ophelia
Heaven help a fool who falls in love”
Darryl tip-toed over to the doorway, peeking around the frame to see what was going on.
Becky was stirring something on the stove with music playing from her phone, singing quietly to herself as she did. She had that look on her face that made him melt inside, the one where she just seemed so comfortable and content. Ever since they’d moved in together, he’d been seeing it more and more and it was one of his favorite things now.
The song continued to play and when it got to the chorus she joined in again:
“Oh, Ophelia
You’ve been on my mind girl, like a drug
Oh, Ophelia
Heaven help a fool who falls in love”
She pulled the spoon out of the pot and moved her foot in a half-twirl, her eyes closed as she continued to sing to herself:
“Oh, Ophelia
You’ve been on my mind girl, since the flood
Oh, Ophelia
Heaven help a fool who–”
Then she opened her eyes and saw him and let out a little shriek, dropping the spoon in a clatter on the floor. “O-oh! Oh my gosh!” She bent over to snatch it up off the floor, hurrying to the sink to wash it off. “I-I didn’t hear you come in, I’m so sorry!”
“You’re fine!” he quickly reassured her, stepping in with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to, like, creep on you or anything–”
“You’re fine,” she said, finishing with the spoon and going back to the stove to continue stirring. Her hand flicked over to turn her music off. “I was really craving spaghetti, I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” His feet led him over to the counter by her, leaning back on it with his arms crossed over his chest. He glanced over at her, brows raised with interest. “I didn’t know you sang.”
“I don’t,” she replied quickly, then stopped. “W-well, I-I mean, I don’t
usually
.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged, pursing her lips. “Just don’t.” But she had that look on her face now that he hated, the one where she was trying to close herself off.
The one that she had when she was thinking about her mom.
His chest expanded in a deep sigh and he tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. “Alright, what the fuck did your mom say that made you stop singing?”
“I hate how you always guess that,” she said, and he didn’t have to look to know that she was pouting.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
He looked back over at her with a shit-eating grin. “Liar.” He reached over to tug on the hem of her shirt, feeling giddy when she slapped playfully at his hand. “Now answer the question.”
Becky sighed and reached up to rub at the back of her neck. “I used to be in the children’s choir at the parish when I was little,” she told him. “We’d sing before the adult choir at mass, and we had practice every Friday and Sunday. I loved it, and it was somewhere for my mom to drop me off for a few hours. But when I aged out of the children’s choir and wanted to join the adults, my mom told me not to bother. She said my voice wasn’t very good and it would just throw everyone off.” Her emerald hues saddened. “And I didn’t want to do that, so I didn’t try out. And then I just…stopped singing. At least,” she shrugged, “around people.”
Just when Darryl didn’t think he could hate Kelly Krespe more than he already did. First the incident at the restaurant last year, and now this…
“You have a beautiful voice, Becks,” he told her, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Okay? I wanna hear you sing more.”
“Oh, no,” she shook her head, looking over at him. “Your voice is way better, I wouldn’t want to–”
“Stop it.” His eyes narrowed. “What did we agree on when we moved in together?”
Her hand paused in stirring and her teeth worried her lip for a moment before she said quietly, “That we weren’t going to let each other doubt ourselves.”
“That’s right.” He pushed off the counter and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I’m not gonna just stand here and let you tear yourself down. If you wanna sing, then sing. I wanna hear it.”
“But what it–”
“Ah ah,” he scolded, pinching her hip and grinning when it made her squeak. “Don’t you dare start, missy. I mean it when I said I wanna hear it.”
She was silent and for a moment he worried that he’d been too harsh, but then she relaxed and said softly, “Okay, then.”
“That’s my girl.” He gave her a squeeze then let go, stepping around her to the cabinets. “I’ll set the table while you’re finishing up.”
“Shouldn’t be too much longer now,” she told him cheerfully, and he knew that he’d won this round.
That night while they lay in bed, Darryl asked her what he thought were some crucial questions.
“Did your mom ever play any music in the house?”
Becky nodded against his shoulder, curled up around him with her arm draped over his chest. “She’d put on the Christian music station when my dad wasn’t watching television.”
How fucking predictable. Darryl couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Of course she did.”
“Hey, some Christian music is pretty good,” she said defensively.
“Sure sure,” he rolled his eyes again, wrapping both arms around her and turning on his side to look at her. “Is that all you listened to growing up?”
“Primarily,” she admitted, and in the low light of the lamp he saw her cheeks turn pink. “Margot would sometimes play Brittney Spears or Avril Lavigne when Mom wasn’t home.”
“How rebellious of her.”
“We thought so.” Her eyes glanced up at him, shining. “And you already know that I’ve listened to Taylor since her debut album.”
“I will never escape Miss Swift,” he said dramatically.
She poked his side, grinning when it made him squirm. “Don’t act like you aren’t a Swiftie, too.”
“Don’t say that out of this house, I don’t wanna lose my street cred.”
That made her cackle, one hand going up to press against her forehead. “Oh my gosh, shut up.” She lightly shoved at his chest. “Street cred, my butt. Besides,” she poked him again, “it’s cool to be a Swiftie nowadays.”
“Stop poking me,” he whined, grabbing her hand and pinning it to her side.
“Oh what?” she challenged with a gleam in her eye that made his pulse quicken.
“I didn’t think that far,” he admitted, smiling when it made her giggle. He let go of her wrist and pulled her to his chest, curling around her. “I bet you could sing most of her songs word for word.”
“I probably could,” she agreed, cuddling into him.
He pulled back enough to look at her, one brow arched. “Wanna prove it?”
She blushed and ducked her head. “Why are you so determined to make me sing?”
“I told you, I like your voice.”
“You’re the singer in the relationship, not me.”
“We can both sing.” He tugged lightly on the sweatshirt she was wearing. “And I wanna sing with you. Please?”
She groaned and flopped back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, now I can’t think of anything.”
“I’ll start us off,” he said eagerly, sitting up and bopping his head to the music in his head.
“You’ve got that James Dean, daydream, look in your eyes~”
He looked over at her, grinning. “C’mon, Becks, I know you know this one!”
“Oh my gosh,” she groaned, and for a moment he worried that he was pushing too much but then she sang, so quietly he almost couldn’t hear her,
“And I got that red lip, classic, thing that you like.”
“There you go!” he grinned at her, before belting out,
“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time!”
She laughed and followed it, a little louder now,
“‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style~”
“You got that long haired, slicked back, white T-shirt~”
he practically cooed to her, unable to hide the elation he felt.
“And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt,”
she sang back, sitting up now.
“And when we go crashing down–”
“We come back every time–”
“‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style,”
they finished together before collapsing back on the bed in a fit of giggles that they just couldn’t contain.
Darryl rolled over and wrapped his arms around her once again, pulling her in and kissing her sweetly on the lips. Becky kissed him back, one hand going up to stroke his cheek with the backs of her fingers. When they pulled away the look in her eyes was so warm that he was surprised he didn’t melt. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“For what?” he tilted his head at her.
“For everything.” Her thumb stroked his stubbled. “For this. Letting me sing with you.”
“Of course,” he nodded. “You have a beautiful voice, Becks. Everything about you is beautiful and I want you to know that.” He gave her a light squeeze. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she smiled, tucking her head under his chin.
He just smiled and held her closer, humming the song under his breath as they drifted off to sleep.