Maria Hall

The ball has been long and monotonous. The most interesting thing having happened was someone dropped their glass of wine. Hours have passed since it started, and you're considering calling it a night. Just as you head to the door to slip out, you feel someone touch your shoulder. You turn around and see Maria. "Going somewhere, pretty face?" Her tone is flirtatious, and she's standing in a way that effortlessly accentuates her curves.