Author's Note: Hello! I don't know if anyone still remembers me after all this time. Haha, I'm back with a short fluffy fic. I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for reading.
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Rules
"You want to marry me?" Merida asked confused and dumbfound. Her eyes where dilated and her voice breaking a little from surprised. She nervously laughed when she saw the serious expression on Hiccup face.
Hiccup and she have been together for eight years, but if someone told her that they would be a couple a decade ago, she wouldn't believe it at all. Actually, if you had the guts to say that to her, she would reach out and feel up your temples to check if you're running with a fever or she would ask you if you're hallucinating or if you're on illegal drugs.
You see they don't have a very great start. Merida first met him when she's a fresh college graduate, who still doesn't have a clue what to do with her life. While Hiccup is this stuttering guy, who doesn't have an ounce of confidence and have the coordination skill of a three-year-old child.
Their first encounter with each other was rather unfortunate, to say at least. Why? On that fated day, he misplaced his eye glasses on the mountain of piling paper works desperately needed to be done. Since he had an eye vision like that of camera lens splattered with petroleum jelly or maybe something worse than that, he failed to notice the 'careful, slippery' sign perched on the top of the staircase.
To make the story short, he stumbled down the stair case and landed on top of her. His right hand ended on place it didn't need to be and his left knee miraculously found its way between her thighs, which accidentally hiked up her black skirt. That misfortunate scenario consequentially put them in a very compromising position and center of rumors for the whole week.
On the red head's mind, the huge black eye on his right eye, a busted upper lip and a broken arm courteously from her was not even enough payment for the embarrassment and horror he subjected her in. He should be locked up in dank, dark and dirty prison like where those old movie's delinquents ended up.
After a couple of months, they both crossed roads with each other again. It's a rather slow day with nothing much to do, so on their lunch break she and her friends ended up playing a modified version of spin the bottle. It comprised with nothing but dares. As the bottle spin slowly and its opening stop right in front of her, she was dared by her friends to make out with the first guy who would go inside the janitor's closet. Of course, with her luck he was the one who went in there.
Why he was in there? Well, he spilled eight cups of coffee he was carrying and he created a small coffee pond on their office's receiving lounge. Thankfully, he did not dump it on the Persian carpet a few yards away from the mess he did; dry cleaning was more expensive back then.
With that, she was forced to make out with the guy she dubbed as the 'fake clumsy perverted idiot'. She was taken aback as he shyly kissed her back, like a girl on her first date. Now, now, she hasn't kissed a girl before, but that was how it felt like. In a trashy teenage novel word, it was innocent, sweet and short. She was ashamed of herself, when she thought that he will take advantage of her, especially when she's the one who initiated the contact.
After that, they still continue to be stranger to each other, but at least with different impression of each one. She forgive him for the worst accident that he subjected her into. Yes, she acknowledged it as an accident after his actions confirmed that he was only a total klutz. She actually began to pity him. She had a feeling that he needed to re do a lot of his work due to his clumsiness.
Him, on the other hand, thought that she's not the kung fu master with an office worker cover, he hypothesis her to be. Where he got that idea? He had to deal with a black eye, split lip and broken arm for a week, you couldn't blame him.
A few weeks after their lip lock in the cramped closet, he was assigned to a different branch across the continent. His salary was doubled, so he grabbed the chance. He didn't have a lot of friend to start with and moving to another place was not a bad idea at all. Maybe he could reinvest himself, change a little and gain some friends.
Their lives continue. She was busy ditching all the blind dates her mom arranged for her, while he was finally able to graduate from an uncoordinated child to clumsy twenty five years old man he was on that time.
For almost a year, they haven't seen even the shadow of each other. They didn't really care because they are not friends, not even acquaintance.
It was a big surprise, when they saw each other again. It was an awkward encounter. She was on her way for a summer vacation and he was on his route to his hometown. It happened that they were both boarding on the same ship and their seats were next to each other.
When his eyes lands on her person clad on a thin summer dress, he was afraid that she would punch him on the face or broke his other arm. She, on the other hand, felt a little self conscious as she noticed him distanced himself from her. He was actually pushing and curling his body away from her. He was not even making an eye contact. And that kind of reaction is unfavorable to a woman's ego and self-esteem.
Because of that, she actually talked to him for the first time. Her voice was rough and irritation was dripping from it. He was not being discreet at all. "Am I that repulsing?"
He hadn't replied, when he heard her voice. They never really 'talk' to each other. Not when he stumble on top of her, after they kissed on the janitor's closet or when they were still on the same office. So, he was surprised when she poked him and asked him her question again.
"Am I that repulsing?"
He looked at her up and down. He didn't know where she got that idea and why she asked him out of all the people in there. Isn't that a kind of conversation a girl was supposed to have with another girl?
"You're not," he answered plainly still confused like a teenager having difficulties on a math problem.
"Then why are you acting like that?" she asked him and he was even more puzzled. 'She's more complicated than a math problem,' he thought.
He didn't know where this conversation was going. It came into his mind that he should fake sleep when he still had a chance. "I don't have an idea what you're talking about."
"You're cowering yourself on that corner, mister," she said as she rolled her eyes to him while she impatiently drummed her fingers on the arm rest dividing her seat from his.
He then shrugged his shoulder. He didn't realize that he would look like a picky old bourgeois woman, when he distanced himself. He carefully reconstructed his sentence before anything inappropriate escaped out of his mouth. Of course, he was afraid of what she could do.
"I'm just wary of being punched again," he answered. She didn't reply or utter anything, so he thought that he needed to say something more. "Honestly, you look lovely, if you don't mind me saying."
She only laughed at him and shook her head. She completely forgot what happened the first time they met, how she punched him on the face, not only once but twice and the popping sound his bones resonated as she twisted his arm.
"It's your fault," she commented.
And that's the first time that he saw her smiled at him. He thought that it suited her well, until she suddenly deposited her upset stomach's content on his pants. He didn't have an idea that she's prone to sea sickness of all things.
Their relationship as an acquaintance officially started in there. They had small talks about their job, but nothing really personal. They were both testing the water and since they don't know anyone in there and the trip was a rather long one they're stuck with each other's company.
That night she received a phone call from her dad, telling her that her pet cat just died from giving birth to two kittens. It's also the first night that he saw her drink and lost inhibition of herself.
After watching a few man stared lecherously at her, he knew what they want from a young woman, especially to a drunk one, he decided to act like a responsible adult.
"One more shot, please," she slurred as she shakily raised her shot glass towards the old bartender.
"You're getting your ass drunk, because your pet cat died?" he asked her as he sat down on the stool next to her.
She whirled on her seat and glared daggers at him, too weak to slap him on the face like what she had in her mind. "You don't know anything at all, smart pants," she spat as she kicked him weakly on the shins. He easily dodged it much to her annoyance.
He had a plan. He knows how most drunken people are, so he sat comfortably as he waited for her to tell him the long story about her cat. He was not disappointed as she started to drown him on about small anecdotes of her cat and their adventures.
He learned that she had her cat, Kitty, very creative name indeed, when she was eight. She found Kitty in one of the dumpster on an alley near her house. What she was doing near a dumpster? He hadn't had an idea, but what caught his attention was how she told the whole story. It seems she really love the cat with all her heart, enough for her to resort on alcohol.
Five hours passed without anyone of them knowing, she mostly talked while he listened and comment here and there, when he thought it was necessary. He learned a lot of things about her, things that he was kind of guilty to know. They're not friends and all of it was rather personal.
"You're not much a talker, eh," she stated out of nowhere and he was surprised when he heard a different accent in her voice. It's only a slip, and maybe his ears caught it, because he's paying too much attention. Her 'r's rolled in a way he found pleasant and he's itching to figure out what accent it was.
"I guess," he answered as he took a sip from his orange juice. A child's drink yes, but he needed to ensure that at least one of them was on right state of mind.
"Hmm, maybe that's why you don't have a lot of friends," she commented more on herself than to him, her head bobbing on agreement. "That and you're too clumsy," she added as she took a swig of her drink.
And right then he caught the faint accent that he couldn't figure what exactly was. "Can you repeat that again?" he asked with a little amount of excitement, not really focusing on what she said. He was still trying to catch the small difference in the lilting of her voice.
He was caught off guard when she laughed. The rich sound made his stomach do assorted kind of summersaults like it did when he had to take his licensure exams years ago. It's odd.
"You're funny. Are you into getting insulted or what?"
"Oh, I got it. It's Scot," he mumbled as he rubbed his thumb on his chin. "You have a Scottish accent."
He got a small shrug, a timid smile and a little insult as an answer. "You're weird."
He was about to say something smart, when he saw her rubbing her eyes and yawning like a little child. It's cute and he found himself turning red a little bit. Maybe his orange juice was spike with a little bit of alcohol.
"It's time to sleep, princess. Come on, I'll walk you to your room," he said as he get up an offered her his hand for support.
She giggled as she batted his hand away. "I can stand on my own, dummy," she said as she stumbled down the stool. "…or maybe not," she added sheepishly as she took hold of his shirt's left sleeve.
That moment he realized that he had a little crush on her. Maybe it was her flushed cheeks, the way she smiled and the way her eyes glinted as she laughed at her own drunken silliness that made his heart stopped for a fraction of a second. On the other hand, maybe it was because he was able to take a little glimpse of who she really is, a hardheaded woman with a soft heart inside.
And that's when they really start their very own love story. For Hiccup, it is their first milestone, a great catalyst for them to have a deeper relationship that both of them did not even expect. And it's also a different story to tell for some other time.
Going back to the matter at hand, Hiccup was as nervous as he could be. He did not know what exactly he needed to do to make her take him seriously. He was being discouraged and turning a little bit agitated with Merida's scrutinizing stare.
"I'm serious. I want to marry you," he said as he pushed back his hair. Here they go again. Is it really surprising for a boyfriend of eight years to propose a marriage to her girlfriend?
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he whispered slowly as he get down on his knees and pull out the little box on his jean's back pocket.
It is now or never.