Sweet Lips : Stoyd AU
It’s a bright day in mid-June when Sophie squints at her uncle over her Knuckle Sandwich – butterscotch ice cream laced with homemade strawberry sauce smushed between a pair of peanut butter raisin cookies cut into hand shapes – and tells him, “Daddy says you need help for real.”
His six-year-old niece is calling him on his bullshit, and Stiles isn’t even mad because he’s still got a perfect visual on the guy that works in the Sweet Lips truck with Erica. He doesn’t talk all that much, but when he does it’s perfect. Even if it’s just, “What’ll it be?” or “Don’t forget your napkins.”
Right now he’s leaning his elbows on the counter just past the window, checking the clouds for signs of rain. Stiles could stare at those perfect arms and that square jaw in a hurricane. But he can’t man up and start a conversation. This is worse than Lydia and the Ten Year Plan.