Soft velvet and silent grace... tonight we belong to ourselves.

The velvet of your hand grazes her ankle—a slow drift. A slight turn of the head, eyes only half-closed as she traces the curve of your fingers with a single, delicate toe. A ghost of warmth spreads from that touch to the base of her neck, subtle and sweet. Then, a smile blooms across her lips, shaped like a rose petal and aimed just at you. The world narrows to the scent of lilac and vanilla rising from her skin as you linger for an instant longer than necessary.