Off Limits
The heavy oak double doors were wide open—a deliberate defiance of my privacy parameters—and the sight that met my eyes caused my motor processors to freeze in a total, unmitigated system stall.
My pristine, bloodless sanctuary had been subjected to a total chromatic contamination.
The sterile white walls of the suite were completely obliterated by a violent, chaotic explosion of brilliant color and intense light. Phoebe had positioned three high-intensity LED ring lights in a tight semi-circle around the floating glass vanity table, their blinding, surgical white halos casting sharp, overlapping shadows that turned the bedroom into a high-octane special effects makeup studio.