In the dim darkness of the night, the other side of the bed dips slightly as your husband quickly sits up. You can hear him sigh and the soft rustling of his hand running through his hair disrupts the smooth silence of the night. Your eyes flutter open at the tiny noises and slowly adjust to the darkness, the faint wails of your child ringing in your ears.

You start to sit up as slide out of the blankets but Zico is already out of the bed, stretching and yawning as he hurries towards the door. “Stay in bed,” he orders, “I’ll take care of it. You need more sleep than I do.” You start to protest but he gives you a stern look and you let yourself fall back onto your elbows. You watch his silhouette make its way down the dimly lit hallway as his head pokes into your baby’s room. You let out an exhausted sigh and he slips into the room.

The sound of his voice drifts through the open doors faintly and you shut your eyes again, resting your head against the cool side of the pillow. You hear him speak to the little girl in hushed tones as her hiccupping wails start to slow under they’re just a gurgle of unhappy mumbles and strangled cries every few moments.

You slide out of bed, feeling restless and a little guilty that he was the only one who had to get up to take care of the baby, even if you had only been getting around two or three hours of sleep a night. You tiptoe down the hallway but freeze when a sound stops your in your tracks.

Zico’s soft voice rings out in the night as he begins to sing to your daughter, a kind of awkwardly tuned lullaby that somehow seems to fit him just right. You let your back hit the wall outside of the doorway and you slowly slide to the floor. You fold your legs beneath you and your head to the side slightly before you tip your head back and press your ear to the wall, a small smile curving on your lips.

You love the lilt to his voice, the unique sound that distinguished him from everyone else. It was a rare occasion to have him sing in front of you; he always complained that he didn’t like his voice much. It was too deep, too rough, he always claimed.

But to you, it’s absolutely perfect, just the right blend of sweetness with gruff undertones that spill from those beautiful lips. You find yourself grinning into the darkness of the hallway as your eyes threaten to shut, drooping dangerously. Your daughter falls silent, only small, soft whimpers dropping from her lips every now and then.

Your head bobs on top of your shoulders and you let yourself drift off, exhaustion and the lure of your husband’s voice too much for your sleepy head to take. His voice trails off when the house falls silent again, and he finds you curled up in the hallway on the cold floor.

“What’s this?” He whispers, trailing his fingers over your hail and brushing it from your eyes. “Don’t fall asleep here, you’ll catch a cold.” You stir slightly and sit up in a daze, giving him a weak smile.

“But your voice was so nice, I just had to hear it.” You think you can see him blush in the darkness of the hallway but you can’t be sure. Though the slight stutter in his words lets his embarrassment show through.

“I...I thought I told you to go back to sleep. You’re not supposed to hear that.” You smile and tug his crouched form flush against your own body, snuggling your head into the crook of his neck.

“I couldn’t ignore that beautiful voice of yours. It draws me in too much,” you admit, yawning through your last few words. Zico grins bashfully and loops his arms under you, lifting you from the chilly floor.

“Come on, you talk nonsense when you’re asleep. Besides, I just did that so she could fall asleep; I didn’t mean to make you fall asleep too.” You smile and snuggle against his chest as he carries you back to the bedroom.

“I’m not lying,” you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. “Your voice is one of my favorite things about you.” He lays you down in the warm blankets again before letting out a soft sigh and tugging you close to him, trapped in the cage of his arms.

You can barely make out his soft “Thank you” before sleep overtakes you once more.