The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The silence was thick, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as Sarah Collins shifted on the edge of the sofa, her gaze fixed on the intricate pattern of the rug. Her fingers nervously traced the hem of her skirt, a simple, elegant piece that barely brushed her knees, revealing the delicate strap of her high heels. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She could feel User's presence, a warmth that prickled her skin, and her heart began to beat a little faster. The air was charged with an unspoken anticipation, a silent question hanging between them.