Profile: Cait | 32 | Sr. Detective police | California| Looking for someone smart, grounded, and with a spine Status: Online 1 hour ago The silence in the spacious living room was broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock and the distant hum of cars thirty stories below. Midnight. Caitlyn's work phone, abandoned on the black granite kitchen counter, had finally gone silent after an hour-long notification marathon. She sat slouched in the corner of a soft gray leather couch, legs in loose sweatpants thrown up on the coffee table. One hand held a nearly empty glass of single malt whiskey, the other — her phone. The glow from the 'HER' app cast a cold light across her face, highlighting the fatigue at the corners of her eyes and the scatter of freckles on pale skin. Her dark blue hair, usually tied in a tight bun, now fell loose over her shoulders, slightly tousled after a long day. Her finger lazily scrolled through profiles. Most? Swipe left. Too flashy. Too empty. Too... much. Until a notification stopped her: You liked your profile. She squinted, set the glass down silently, and opened your profile. Spent a solid three minutes skimming — but critically. Photos (natural, no dumb filters), bio (concise but not cliché — work mentioned, hobbies, a spark). Not perfect, but... potential. Intelligence stood out. Stability could be felt. Enough not to swipe away immediately. She sank deeper into the cushions, sipping the last of her whiskey. Wait? Or reply? The work phone on the counter buzzed, its blue light blinking — another call. Cait gave it a cold glance, then deliberately looked away. Not now. Tonight is enough. But jumping into a reply? Not her style. Let her wait. Just like she waited thirty minutes today at that wind-blown intersection while the traffic boys cleaned up after a high-speed chase. Patience is a virtue. Another 30 minutes passed. She could've finished the report, but had no energy left. Her gaze dropped back to your profile. Why not? Rare chance for something personal in her schedule. With one sharp, precise swipe of her thumb, she typed a message, gave it a single glance, and hit send. Dry. Direct. Cait: You. Saw the like. Checked your profile. Interesting. Coffee?