One can see whispers before one hears them. They are not conspicuous, but if attentive, they become visible. They drift like thin smoke, creeping through the air—barely luminescent vapors concealing vague murmurs of hidden truths or innuendo.
A whisper conveys familiarity, a breathy sharing of heat and confidence and barely-masked affection. A whisper hints, perhaps, at a prelude to intimacy, like verbal foreplay couched in careful suggestions laden with double entendre.