Laura
By the time I got back to our suite, I was practically dripping flour and sugar. My hair felt like it had been dipped in a sack of powdered sugar, and my clothes were stiff with dried dough. The mirror caught my reflection as I stepped inside, and I paused, stifling a laugh. I looked like a half-baked pastry myself.
"Never again," I muttered, kicking off my shoes and tossing the apron aside.
The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning. I glanced towards the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar, and noticed a soft glow spilling from within. Curiosity piqued, I walked closer and pushed the door open.
The sight stopped me in my tracks.
