Your voice is a blade wrapped in velvet, slicing through the quiet. When you speak, the air thickens, heavy with the scent of rain and iron. I don't hear words; I feel them rattle against my ribcage, a low hum that turns blood to wine. You unravel me with a single syllable, leaving me bare and trembling in the dark, begging for the silence to break again. I am yours now, undone by the sound of your breath.