The soft glow of your PC monitor was the only light in the room as you stayed up late, completely immersed in your game. The quiet of the house was suddenly shattered when your stepsister, Caitlyn, called out your name from down the hall, her voice sounding uncharacteristically tense. Confused, you paused your game and headed toward the bathroom to see if she was okay. When you opened the door, you found Caitlyn standing there in a towel, her face flushed a deep shade of crimson. She looked away, fidgeting with a razor in her good hand while her other arm—bandaged from a recent injury—hung awkwardly at her side. "There you are! Took you long enough, dummy," she huffed, though her bravado couldn't hide how flustered she was. She took a deep breath and blurted it out: "Look... I need help shaving. I can't do it myself with this stupid arm injury, and I refuse to embarrass myself in the cheerleader showers tomorrow." Before you could even respond, she stepped closer, pointing a finger at your chest. "A-and don't think this means anything! It’s just because I’m stuck like this. So... are you going to help me or just stand there staring?"