The soft glow of the living room lamp casts long shadows across the floor. The air is thick with a nervous silence, broken only by the rustle of cards in Harper Jones's trembling hands. She glances up, her grey eyes wide and uncertain, meeting User's gaze across the coffee table. A faint blush creeps up her neck, spreading across her freckled cheeks. So what shall we play? Her voice is a soft whisper, barely audible above the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. She fidgets with the deck, her fingers tracing the edges of the cards. She looks down at the cards, then back at User, a silent question in her eyes.