Verse 1
I close the door, the city blurs—just rain on glass,
The world recedes until there’s only the shape of your breath.
You press a thumb to the scar at your collarbone—soft, as if to say
You came to meet me on the edge and you do not look away.
My coat smells of smoke and storm; your hair tastes like midnight rain.
I lean in slow, not to take but to learn the exact curve of you.
Pre-Chorus
You whisper “stay” and don’t step back, your fingers map my jaw.
Your pulse answers mine in quick, small knocks—permission signed in motion.
(whisper: “stay”) [music drops low — warm synth pad under voice]
Chorus
I kiss you, Rebecca, deeper than the last good night —
Against the hush of lamps, we trade every borrowed fight.
You breathe quick, I close the space, our shadows fold and blend,
Your hand finds mine and holds; we’re not pretending this won’t end.
No pleading, no taking — only a hunger made of two.
The room goes dim, the clock forgets; I’m only keeping you.
Stay right here, don’t resist—
Rebecca, let me finish this kiss.
Verse 2
Your heartbeat trips beneath my palm, a faltering, honest drum.
I trace the small white line on your wrist — a soft, forgotten map.
You laugh, a tiny sound like glass, swallowed and then given back.
I’ve broken rules and bodies before, but this is not a prize to grab.
You smell of coffee and old letters, a life I want to learn.
Your breath tastes of salt and city rain; I memorize the turn.
Pre-Chorus
You close your eyes and tilt your face, a quiet yielding vow.
Your lips move without sound and in that silent word I bow.
(whisper: “stay”) [instrumentation thins — fingerpicked guitar, low cello hum]
Chorus
I kiss you, Rebecca, slow and hard, like learning every scar.
You press into me as if to prove the map that made you here.
No distance left between our names, no place to say goodbye.
Our fingers braid; you fold into the rhythm of my sigh.
This isn’t stealing — it’s a shared surrender under lights so low.
Hold me steady, don’t insist—
Rebecca, don’t pull away, let it grow.
Bridge (Whisper / Dark)
I asked, you answered — a small nod; the room listens in a hush.
You’re not trapped, you’re not afraid, your surrender is a rush.
(whisper: line 2) [whisper: “I wanted this too” — breathey, right after line 2]
Let the world call it obsession if they must, it’s how we learn to stay.
They don’t feel the heat of your hair against my collarbone this way.
[music: beat drops out for two bars — breath-only percussion]
Break
If obsession had a sound,
it’s the soft intake when your name slips loose—
Tiny breath, a half-smile—salt on your lips,
The small involuntary gesture when I rest my thumb where you’ve been hurt.
(whisper: “remember me”) [instrumentation: near-silence, high piano bell rings]
Final Chorus
I kiss you, Rebecca, until our calendars forget their dates,
Until the start and end unspool and only the middle waits.
If leaving comes, let it be later—let tonight remain our proof.
We trade every “maybe”
