Sterek Library (a03 Edition)

A Literary Love

By; thewolfwiththeredroses

Summary:

"Walking down a foreign street in an unfamiliar city, Stiles searches for refuge from the bitter November cold. He’s not quite sure how he ended up here, stumbling through the streets of New York City at 5am before the sun has even risen, when less than a week ago he was still back home in Beacon Hills just waiting for his real life to begin."

OR

Stiles is an aspiring writer trying to find his way in the world (and New York City), and Derek is the proud owner of a bookshop cafe who just wants to be as happy as his parents were.

Work Text:

The bookstore sat in between the bank and the pharmacy; short, squat and out of place. From the outside looking in, it was a very ordinary sort of place on a very ordinary sort of street. An ageing red brick building with a wide store front window that was half covered by a bookshelf, and a very grand-looking black door with a well-used brass knob placed in the middle. It is outside this bookstore where we meet our fearless hero. Alright, maybe not fearless. Okay, maybe he’s a little less than heroic, but he is the centre of our story so we should be nice to him, shouldn’t we? Anyway.

Walking down a foreign street in an unfamiliar city, Stiles searches for refuge from the bitter November cold. He’s not quite sure how he ended up here, stumbling through the streets of New York City at 5am before the sun has even risen, when less than a week ago he was still back home in Beacon Hills just waiting for his real life to begin. Fresh out of college at BHU, Stiles always dreamed of moving to the big city and making a life for himself. Sure, leaving his dad wasn’t easy, but the Sheriff had Melissa now, and it wasn’t like they didn’t talk on the phone at every spare moment anyway.

Stiles knows that he was lucky, he had worked like a dog through college, enduring the most degrading of jobs in order to make just enough money to scrape by until he caught his big break. His big break which was going to begin in a matter of hours. Shit.

Stiles abruptly realises that as this barrage of overwhelming thoughts had hit him, he has stopped walking, his feet coming to a standstill on the uneven pavement. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to block out the panic that is tightening his chest before exhaling in a long, slow breath. Calm down, he thinks to himself, this could be the start of something amazing. This could be the beginning of the rest of your life.

“Are you alright?” A voice sounds from in front of Stiles, startling him from his thoughts. His eyes shoot open in shock before settling upon the figure in front of him.

Stiles’ breath hitches in his throat as his bleary eyes rake up the body of the man in front of him. Dark jeans. Black leather jacket. The man is built like Adonis, all lean muscle, pulling tight the fabric of his forest green Henley, and then there’s his face. High, chiselled cheek bones and a sharp, beautifully sculpted jaw dusted with dark stubble to match the thick, dark eyebrows which are currently drawn together in obvious concern for Stiles’ wellbeing. But, however stunning these features are, they’re not what causes the tightness in Stiles’ chest to reappear tenfold. It’s the eyes. An impossible colour, Stiles thinks. They’re breath taking, deep and clear, a beautiful vibrant green only made brighter by the man’s dark appearance.

“Uhh…” Stiles drawls unintelligibly, feeling his jaw drop in to its default gawp before he remembers his training. By training, he means the years he has spent as a close friend of the stunning Lydia Martin, conditioning himself not to turn in to a drooling idiot when faced with beautiful people. Stiles clears his throat, willing his voice to hold.

“Yeah,” he says, the calmness of his voice surprising him, “Sorry, I’m not quite with it yet. Actually, I’m not sure I even know where I am. I only just moved here.”