-POV Derby
The heavy fabric of the velvet drape brushed against my bare shoulder, the deep crimson weave feeling rough and coarse against my skin. I didn't turn around to face the crowded ballroom immediately. I couldn't. My back remained rigid, my fingers tightly curling into the soft palms of my hands until my short nails bit into the flesh.
*Don't look,* I commanded myself, staring blindly at a stray gold tassel hanging near the window frame. *If you look, you lose. If you look, you acknowledge that he can pull your strings whenever he wants. Just walk out the side doors.*
But the sheer physical sensation of his gaze was a solid, oppressive thing. It didn't feel like a passing glance from a stranger across a crowded room. It felt like an anchor dropped right between my shoulder blade
