|Grace|
I woke up to the smell of frangipani and the soft rustle of bamboo chimes, confused by the unfamiliar yet soothing sounds. When I opened my eyes, the unfamiliar room around me spun lazily, casting the world in soft, muted hues. My body ached in places I didn’t even know could hurt, and a sharp, persistent pain pulsed from the sole of my foot, a relentless reminder of the reckless sprint I did…last night.
I sat up slowly, wincing as every muscle screamed in protest, and took in my surroundings.
The room was bathed in gentle morning light, filtering through intricately carved wooden shutters. The walls were adorned with delicate Balinese carvings, and the air carried the faint scent of frangipani. It was a resthouse, I realized, with an aesthetic that exuded tranquility and luxury
