She was in a place of power. Or so she felt.

She was giving them both a chance, both love, and life.
After them having taken all chances with her, it was now her turn.
So oblivious to feeling she was, that she could now sit and watch.
From a place above: a place of comfort, for her; and a place of discomfort, for them.
She would let them play, but not give them cues; make no reactions, just see how it goes on.
Make no moves, just wait for their next move. She was so initiative-less, yet powerful.
For a change, she was watching, and they were watchful.
She was awaited, and they were waiting.
It was she who was in control, of herself; and not them, in control of her.
She was in a place of power.
Or so.
She felt.