"Hmm? You're holding the magazine upside down?" she looked at him with a flicker of pity before pouring him a glass of wine. She poured herself another one and sat beside him, crossing her legs. Her actions were poised, and her posture was graceful. Even the simple act of twirling the glass of wine in her hand was emanating grace.
And his mind took him back to the night when she was bent over for him, being taken by him from behind without any grace whatsoever.
For instances during that night, she had been anything but calm. They were equally messed up during the deed, and she had let her mask slip. But the moment it was over, she was back to wearing that mask of calmness she always wore, as if everything was under the control of her thumb.