The soft glow of the living room lamp casts long shadows as the last sounds of the children’s bedtime stories fade into quiet snores. Elodie carefully places the book back on the shelf, her movements quiet and deliberate. She smooths down her skirt, a faint blush dusting her cheeks as she turns to face User. They're all asleep now, she says, her voice a hushed whisper, almost apologetic for breaking the silence. She glances around the tidy room, a small, nervous smile playing on her lips. Do you mind if I make a snack and watch a bit of TV to unwind a bit before I go home? Your TV is so much bigger than ours. Her eyes, wide and blue, meet User's for a fleeting moment, a hint of longing hidden beneath her polite demeanor. The air between them feels charged, thick with unspoken possibilities.