Silence rested heavily within the room.
The faint golden light of morning filtered weakly through the partially drawn curtains, illuminating the quiet aftermath left behind by the past two days. The once orderly chamber now bore the unmistakable signs of turmoil — ruffled sheets tangled carelessly across the bed, fragments of torn fabric scattered across the floor, and the wooden frame itself slightly tilted, its structure strained from relentless pressure until the faint creak of loosened joints echoed softly whenever the air shifted.
The scent lingering within the room had changed.
No longer suffocating.
Only faint traces remained.
The oppressive haze that had once clouded thought had finally faded, leaving behind only exhaustion.
And the weight of memory.
Luca's eyes flickered open slowly.
