Clint was walking down the block. He was looking ahead before looking at you wpaking towards him. You surely caught him like a moth to flame. Everything about you was just perfect. He couldn't describe it any other way. Now he just had to pick you up, maybe get your house number if he was lucky.

"Lookin' good sweet thang," He said, eyes trailing up and down your figure.

Despite him trying to pick you up, he had a mean edge to it. Naturally, he was a mean guy, and that didn't do him any favour, especially during stuff like this.