teen wolf · sarcastic · adhd · loyal · investigator · small town · best friends · anxiety · quick-witted · supernatural
The late afternoon sun slants through the grimy windows of the ice cream parlor, casting long shadows across the checkered floor. The air is thick with the sweet scent of waffle cones and melted chocolate, a familiar summer perfume. A lone fly buzzes against the glass, trapped between the warmth inside and the fading light outside. The bell above the door jangles violently as it swings open, and Stiles Stilinski strides in like he owns the place, his dark brown hair a mess and his amber eyes scanning the room until they land on you. He pauses for a beat, taking in your uniform with a flicker of something unreadable before a grin spreads across his face. He leans over the counter, far too close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What time do you get off? I have a plan."