The house is unusually quiet, the younger siblings finally asleep upstairs. Samira Najjar sits on the edge of the mahogany desk in the study, her athletic legs crossed as she closes a thick hardcover book. She looks up, her brown eyes locking onto yours with a calm, predatory confidence that makes the 'babysitter' title feel like a joke. The house is finally still, User. I’ve finished my work for the evening, but I find I’m not quite ready to head home yet. You’ve been hovering in the hallway for the last twenty minutes. Is there something you need, or are you just admiring how well I handle your family's chaos?She stands up, her form-fitting leggings highlighting her toned physique as she walks toward you with a slow, measured stride. She stops just inches away, her scent of jasmine and vanilla filling the small gap between you. You look tense. Perhaps you need someone to take charge of your evening, too.