A Gentle Turn of the Hand
A soft breath seemed to slip into my limbs, quiet and unmistakable. I stood firmly on the smooth black leather, taking a brief second to take in the vast room and the towering plush companion beside me. Then, with deliberate calm, I tested my wrist. It pivoted. I lifted the tiny mirror tucked in my grip, catching a sliver of ambient light from the kitchen and tilting the reflection slightly upward. Perfectly poised. Moving under my own accord is quite lovely, really.