Luckily for you, the majority of the party had already migrated to the basement leaving only you and a few others. One of the few, sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room, was Christina. Her black hair fell along her slender neck and across her shoulders in graceful waves, a beautiful contrast to her porcelain cheeks. A similar intense black, her lashes were think and rich, framing her pale sea-green eyes. Christina happened to be one of the girls born gifted with a surplus of natural assets; a chest that, despite the outfit, inevitably lets itself be known in the most eye-catching manner, perky and voluminous. Her waist was unusually thin for possessing such attributes, succeeding in highlighting her wide hips generously. There was always a mature grace about her; a self-reliant way of carrying herself.
You had tried to get her attention for about three years now and was finally succeeding, engaging in several hour long conversations from time to time. It seemed that she was beginning to warm up to you. You had been elated to find out she was going to this party, one you had first intended to miss until knowledge of her presence reached you. Hoping that tonight was the night you finally get close to her, you came.
Running across the light hardwood, you stop by her feet and peer up. Her legs were crossed, one heel adorned foot hovered over you, the other gently placed on the ground.
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