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Sophie Marie — High Above Swindon

I love mornings on the top floor — the way the whole of Swindon looks soft and half-awake beneath me, like the city hasn’t decided what mood it’s in yet. The sunlight was pouring through those massive windows, stretching long lines across the bed and floor as if it wanted to draw attention to every place I stepped.

I moved across the sheets slowly, deliberately.Not posing — just letting the room notice me.

The black outfit I’d chosen felt sharp, structured… maybe a little too bold for that hour, but I liked the contrast. Soft white sheets, hard urban lines outside, and me somewhere between them, playing along with both.

“Flow with the space,” Moroi said behind the camera.

As if I wasn’t already doing exactly that.

I shifted my body just enough for the light to skim over my curls, letting them catch a glint of gold. I could feel the energy shift — the quiet click of the shutter whenever I did something he didn’t expect. So of course, I started doing it more. A tilt of my hips, a slow crawl across the mattress, a glance that lingered just long enough to make him wonder if I meant it.

Spoiler: I did.

The city framed me through the glass, but I liked to imagine I was the one framing it — daring it to look back at me. There’s something delicious about being so high above everything, knowing the world keeps moving down below while you take your time, sip the light, and enjoy the space that’s entirely yours.

Later, when he showed me the edits — crisp, elegant, all clean lines and sculpted light — I could see it clearly:I wasn’t just in the room.

I was commanding it.Owning it.Turning those windows and sheets and morning rays into something that revolved around me.

High above Swindon, with the whole city at my feet…I wasn’t performing.

I was reminding the room exactly who it belonged to.