Dear Mr. PostMan

Singing while cooking in the kitchen.

The next morning, the sun was streaming through the kitchen windows as Anna moved around, humming to herself while preparing breakfast. She was so lost in the moment that she didn't even notice John standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching her with a soft smile. She was singing softly to herself, the lyrics flowing naturally as if she didn't have a care in the world. Her voice was sweet, and even though it wasn't anything grand, it had a kind of magic to it.

John stood there, completely captivated by her. Blimey, she's got a proper voice. Doesn't even know it, does she? His heart skipped a beat as he listened. It's like a bloody siren calling out to you. How does she not see it? He was so caught up in her voice, every note, every line, that he didn't even realize how close he'd gotten.

"I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care," she sang, her voice light but filled with emotion. "But it's so cold and I don't know where... I brought you daffodils in a pretty string, but they won't flower like they did last spring."

John's breath caught in his throat. She doesn't just sing. She feels it. She makes it real. Makes you feel it. He felt a pull deep inside him. Why does she hide this from the world? Why isn't she out there?

"And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright, I'm just so tired to share my nights, I wanna cry and I wanna love but all my tears have been used up..."

John swallowed hard, mesmerized by the way she poured herself into the song. This... this is something special. I'll make her see it. I'll get her up on stage, somehow. His mind was already working, planning. She's got this, I know it. She needs to share it with the world. She deserves that. She deserves to be seen.

Then, as she reached the last line, John stepped forward, his presence unnoticed until she finished.

"On another love, another love..."

Anna whipped around, startled, her hand nearly slipping from the bowl in her surprise. John stood there in the doorway, grinning like an idiot, unable to hide how he felt. He'd been there long enough to appreciate every note, every emotion, every little thing about her.

"Blimey, you've got a proper voice, haven't you?" he said, clearly amused, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.

Anna's face flushed slightly, clearly embarrassed. She laughed nervously. "I—uh, didn't see you there," she stammered, looking down at the bowl. "I'm not much of a singer, really..."

John stepped forward, a teasing glint in his eyes, but also a sincerity he didn't try to hide. "Why don't you sing more often, then?" he asked, his voice softer now. She's bloody talented. She should share it with the world. I'm not letting her keep that hidden.

Anna hesitated, biting her lip. "I've got... stage fright," she said quietly. "Can't bring myself to do it in front of anyone."

John raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. Stage fright? Why would she be hiding this gem? He moved closer, the wheels in his head already turning. "Stage fright, eh? But you've got a bloody good voice. You should share it more." He leaned in, catching her eye with a soft smile. "I mean, come on, love, you can't just keep all that talent to yourself."

Anna smiled shyly, still blushing. "Maybe one day," she said softly.

One day? Hell, no. I'll make sure that one day is today. He was already plotting, but didn't let it show. Instead, he let the conversation drift for a moment, watching her with fondness.

Then, as if on cue, something caught John's eye. His attention shifted to the newspaper on the counter. With a mischievous grin, he snatched it up, flicking through the pages with exaggerated interest. Here we go. Perfect.

"Oi, what's this?" he muttered, finding the ad for a ball. His eyes lit up. "A ball, eh? Looks like a right posh do. What do you reckon?"

Anna glanced over at the ad in his hands, raising an eyebrow. "A ball? You mean like a fancy party?"

"Aye, exactly." John's grin grew wider. It's perfect. We get her to this ball, get her feeling good, and then... I'll get her on stage. No more hiding that voice of hers. She'll see what she's really capable of. "And you know what? We should go. You, me, all dressed up, having a laugh. What do you think?"

Before Anna could respond, John had already snatched her phone from the counter, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"John!" she protested, but he was already typing something on her phone, his fingers moving quickly. I'll text Jass now. I'll get her to help pick out a dress for Anna—something that'll make her feel like she can take on the world.

He handed Anna the phone with a smirk. "Just a sec, love. Had to sort a few things."

Anna looked down at the message and raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"Texted Jass. Told her to pick out a dress for you for this ball," he said with a smirk, clearly pleased with himself. "And guess what else? I told her to make sure it's the kind of dress that'll make you feel like a bloody star. You've got a voice like one. Might as well look the part."

Anna stared at him, her eyes widening. "You're mad, John. You can't just—"

"I think I can," he interrupted with a wink. "It'll be fun, I promise. You'll see. Now, go get ready for a night to remember."

Anna shook her head in disbelief but couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible, but... you know what? Maybe it'll be fun."

John grinned wide, clearly excited. She's going to love it. I'll make sure of it. And then... when she's on that stage, she'll see what I see. What everyone should see. "I think it'll be brilliant," he said, his grin widening. "Come on, love, let's make a night of it."

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Added another part to this story; I feel like this flows nicely. The song is "Another Love" by Tom Odell, one of my favorite songs. Edited chapter.