Plain

Robin's fingers dig into the plush fabric of the robe, her knuckles turning white with the intensity of her grip. 

She wants to lash out, to confront Layla and make her pay for the pain and humiliation she's caused. But she knows she can't, not here, not now.

The sound of Layla's low tones filters down the hallway, and Robin's eyes narrow as she watches the other woman being ushered into a private treatment room.

She can't help but notice the respectful way the staff are treating Layla. 

The woman glides through the spa, her every need anticipated and catered to with the utmost care.

A team of attentive attendants hovers at Layla's side, offering her chilled glasses of sparkling water and refreshing towelettes. 

They speak in hushed, respectful tones, their movements graceful and practised, as if they've been trained to anticipate the blonde's every whim.