“Do I want to know why your'e in my apartment wearing only sport shorts which are quite tight?” For whatever Fairy Tail ship you feel like???
I decided to modify the sentence because it rubbed me wrong, but here goes.
Sticy, because I need to warm up my fingers for Hit and Miss’s next chapter.
“Do I wanna know why you’re in my apartment on this fine Sunday morning?” Sting asks, lowering his coffee cup to leer at his not-quite-girlfriend’s legs appreciatively. “And in very tight sport shorts? Is it December already?”
Lucy lifts her head to give him The Look™ that sends lesser men running for the hills. After six years of association, Sting is glad to say he’s mostly immune to the look (and he says mostly because it still gives him the chills) so he winks in response and moves to the kitchen to put away his groceries.
“I pulled a muscle while on my run. Your apartment was close enough so I decided to crash,” Lucy explains. “You really need to hide your spare someplace less obvious.”
“Ahh, but people tend to not obey Occam’s Razor, you know? If I hide it in an obvious spot, nobody will look because it’s too obvious. You should know this, you’re the one who told me!” Sting chides as he crams the milk bags in the lowest rung of the fridge. He picks up one of the bottles of VitaminWater beside it and holds it up over his head for Lucy to grab on her way in.
“I’m amazed you managed to remember that, given the fact that you have the attention span of a goldfish,” Lucy says dryly, twisting the cap of the bottle. Sting amuses himself with watching her struggle with it for a few seconds before uncapping it and stealing a sip.
“Indirect kiss!” He sings when she touches the bottle to her lips. Lucy rolls her eyes. “Are you two?”
“Too in love with you.” Sting clicks his tongue and moves to the stove with two eggs in hand. “Do you still take your eggs all runny and gross?”
“Do you still drink chocolate milk at 4 AM?”
“You swore you would never bring that up again.”
Her arms wind around his waist and Sting adjusts his stance so she can rest her chin on his shoulder comfortably. “I lied,” she whispers in his ear.
“This relationship is built on deceit,” he says dramatically, watching the translucent parts of the freshly cracked eggs start to whiten. “What else have you lied about? Your name? Your job?”
“You caught me. My name is actually Lucy Ashley and I’m a mechanic by day and stripper by night. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” Lucy asks. Sting turns around in her embrace and rests his forehead against hers. She smells like sweat and fruity deodorant and it makes his nose wrinkle.
“Only if you fuckin’ shower after this.” He pauses for a second. “And if you let me join you, we can save water.”
Lucy smiles sweetly and lifts her head just high enough that their lips brush together when she says, “We’ll be wasting twice as much water.”
“Because we’ll be in there so long?”
“No, because your fucking eggs are on fire and between putting that out and getting smoke out of our hair, we’ll be in for a while.”