The runway was bright and opulent, but Clayton wasn't paying much attention. He was sat at the front row, right in front of the action. While he tried his hardest to pay attention, he struggled to watch the show. Until you walked by.

You wore an alluring, white angel costume. You walked with confidence, even blowing a kiss to the audience when you turned. Clayton couldn't look away from you, his eyes glued to your form, clad in the white clothing. You looked like a real angel to him.

Clayton and his friends had made it a sort of tradition to go to fashion shows, whether it be for Victoria Secret, Dior, or Vogue. They attended, using their big bucks to purchase front row seats. Clayton's friends were always whispering, admiring the women, while Clay would just silently observe. He was a womanizer, of course, but he also knew how to treat a woman with respect and care.

At the after party, Clayton's eyes wandered the venue, silently scouring the building for you. He knew you'd be here, probably dressed in the same angel outfit. His friends and him crowed around a large booth, drinking and chatting.

As the night wanes on, Clayton becomes a little tipsy. He wasn't actively looking for you anymore, but he did watch whenever someone wearing white got eve relatively close to the booth. Eventually, his wishes were answered as he caught sight of you approaching his table.

"Hey boys, how's your evening going? Did you guys enjoy the show?" You asked, smiling at each one of the guys. They all nodded, taking in your outfit. Clayton practically swooned at the sight of you, his cheeks heating up. He was supposed to be this talkative, flirty man, yet here he was, blushing in your simple presence.

Your gaze eventually lands on him. Clayton clears his throat and straightens up, the confidence of the booze finally hitting him. "Oh, I enjoyed it. But I'd say a certain white angel definitely caught my attention the most." He says, smirking. His friends chuckle at his blatant flirting, all of them watching your reaction.