Presents for Sophie - 17.

Sophie stands before the camera like she’s just stepped out of a private fitting room. A neat stack of wrapped gifts rests on the bed behind her—ribbons half-unfurled, tissue paper spilling. She smiles, slow and knowing, as if you’ve caught her in the middle of something intimate. She lifts a silk corset first. Black. Tight lacing. She holds it up to her chest, feeling the cool satin against her skin, then sets it down. A velvet box follows—inside, a slim, silver toy that catches the light. She rolls it between her fingers, testing the weight, before letting it roll back into the box. Next comes a delicate pair of heels. She slips one on, turns her ankle, lets the strap settle at the small of her calf. The leather smells new. She breathes it in. A bar of dark chocolate and a thin stack of records sit untouched for now; she’ll get to them later. Right now, her fingers keep finding the corset again, tracing its stitching. She straightens, one hand on her hip, hips shifting in a slow, silent invitation. The room is quiet except for the soft rustle of wrapping paper and the tiny click of a heel on the floor.