Astrid hated family holidays. Not the kind you see on television - not the trips to far off countries with sparkling sea and soft white sand. Not the kind where you were obligated to do nothing but laze under the sun, with a book and a glass of ice cold lemonade by your side. Certainly not adventure holidays; she would have loved to try her hand at white water rafting or kayaking.
No, Astrid hated her family holidays. Her parents would hire out some old cottage in the middle of the countryside and they would somehow manage to pick the smallest place they could find, and it would always smell suspiciously of damp. Every day they would drag her outside on long walks through mud and rain (because it always rained). They would come home shivering and dripping wet, and Astrid would feel miserable, longing to be back at home with her friends. What was most frustrating was that her older brother seemed to genuinely adore these holidays and would shoot her dark looks whenever she even so much looked like she was about to complain.
This was why she had to suppress a groan when her parents informed her that they would be going to Wales for the six weeks of summer. Her parents had wide smiles, their eyes sparkling as they told her and Astrid had to plaster on a smile too, because she knew how tight money was and in their eyes this was a really big treat. But on the inside, Astrid's heart sunk as she thought about how she had just lost the six weeks of seeing her friends, relaxing at home and laziness that she had been planning before school started again.
Sometimes Astrid wished that her family had enough money to go on holiday abroad. Just one week abroad, in the sun. Not just for her own benefit – but for theirs too. She could see the wrinkles around their eyes and the way that they forced smiles sometimes. They deserved somewhere nice to go.
Even so, they seemed to really enjoy the days they spent in damp holiday homes in the countryside. Astrid never wanted to sound ungrateful, but she never wanted to go.
Hiccup's family holidays were hardly family holidays. More like: his father shipping them both off to their second home in Wales, his father locking himself in his room doing paperwork most days while Hiccup had to entertain himself. Come to think of it, they could hardly be considered holidays either. Hiccup was pretty sure that their trips to Wales were just an excuse for his father to do his work away from the governors that he was always complaining about.
Still, Hiccup didn't really mind. He liked being away from home for a little bit and he liked having the time to himself. He spent a lot of time drawing, taking his sketchbook and pen and wandering out into the countryside. Sometimes, when his father actually decided he wanted to see him, he would find Hiccup with his head bent in his book, lost in the little world he was creating on the page.
That was what Hiccup didn't like about holidays. It was just him and his father, which just highlighted how much his dad ignored him. At home, Hiccup could pretend that his father was just busy, and that when he had the time he would pay attention to him. Holidays just confirmed that his father didn't care.
Sometimes he wondered if his dad was pretending Hiccup didn't exist.
Astrid's family packed up the car with sickly sweet smiles and cheery voices. Astrid wanted to roll her eyes and bang her head against the car window. She'd been woken up at an ungodly hour in the morning, and the last thing she wanted to do was spend six hours in a car with three people who seemed unaffected by the lack of sleep they'd had. Astrid's eyelids felt like lead, but no amount of trying would let her sleep on the way there. She'd never been able to sleep in a car.
She rested her head on the window and stared out into the road, her fingers tapping on her knees. She was already feeling restless and she stretched her legs in front of her in an attempt to get comfortable. It was going to be a long drive.
Hiccup's journey to Wales went as it always did, in mostly silence. His father would make a few comments and Hiccup would shrug or reply in monosyllables, and that was as far as their conversations would go. Hiccup was used to leaning against the window, letting himself get lost in thoughts to pass the seven long hours it took to get to their second home.
He didn't realise he had drifted off to sleep until a meaty hand was shaking him awake, his father staring down at him in an expression that was neither kind nor unkind.
"Wake up, son," he grunted. "We're here."
Hiccup blinked, opening his eyes and blearily looking around, a little disorientated. Sure enough, they were here, right in front of their needlessly huge second home. He slipped out of his seat, wandering over to the back of the car while he yawned and rubbed his eyes.
His father had already taken out the two big suitcases and was lifting them up in each of his hands. He nodded his head towards the two smaller bags left in the boot and Hiccup hurried forward and picked them up.
The house was the same as it always was, much bigger than necessary and horribly empty. It wasn't that it wasn't a nice house – quite the opposite, in fact – it was just that Hiccup found it uncomfortable that it was such a big house for two people that only used it for six weeks out of the whole year. He could think of so many different ways that the house could be put to better usage, but he knew there was no way his father would listen to him.
He dragged his stuff up the room that had always been designated as his and flopped onto the bed, resting his arms behind his head. His eyes flicked to the window, watching the rain drip down the glass. It was always raining here.
It's always raining here, Astrid grumbled to herself.
They had arrived in afternoon and the heavens had opened, unleashing a torrent of rain onto the ground below. Astrid scowled as she yanked her suitcase up the steps and into the holiday cottage. After minimal searching, she found the twin room and dropped her case beside the bed closest to the window.
The bed had noticeable bedsprings when she lay on it, and she twisted this way and that, trying to find a comfortable position. The blanket was felt cold, almost damp, as if it had been folded up in the back of a cupboard with no heating. She sighed.
Her brother followed her in soon afterwards, dropping onto his own bed.
"Isn't this great, Astrid?" he said, grinning as he looked over at her.
She couldn't bring herself to say anything scathing, so she just nodded. Her brother kept talking, enthusing about the holiday and about the place and she just his words wash over him. Her thoughts turned to her friends at home, the people she'd been hoping to spend all of her summer with and she felt a pang in her stomach.
It was going to be a long summer.
He was drawing when he first saw her.
It had been pouring it down for most of the day before it had it evened out to a light drizzle and Hiccup had decided it was probably wouldn't matter too much if he went out to draw in it. He wandered down his favourite little pathway through a wooded area that lead to a creek. He crossed a bridge and followed the creek a little further until he reached a mini waterfall.
He smiled when he saw it. He couldn't help it – the waterfall had become such a relaxing place for him. Just the sounds, the trickle of water as it passed through the rocks, the rustling of leaves as the wind blew through the trees, the gentle birdsong – all of it put Hiccup at peace. He could feel the tension leaking away from his limbs as his entire body relaxes.
He found his usual perch, a small rock just a little way from the stream and before long he was absorbed in his sketching, his nose almost touching the paper as his pencil glides across the paper.
He hardly noticed the family that wandered past the creek, stopping to look at the waterfall for a bit, before moving on, taking one of the paths into the woods. They barely spared him a second glance.
A few minutes later, as his eyes flickered up to look at the waterfall, he noticed somebody hovering by the river, shifting her weight between each foot. A girl.
She had the brightest blonde hair that fell in bedraggled curls down past her shoulders, soaked and tangled but still somehow framing her face. She was dressed in a waterproof coat, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jeans, her shoulders hunched over. She looked grumpy, almost pissed off and yet, in Hiccup's eyes, she was beautiful.
The girl hovered over by the fork in the path, stretching up on her toes and looking at both.
"Are you okay?" Hiccup asked.
The girl jumped, her eyes widening slightly when she hears his voice, as if caught off guard. Eyes. She had such piercing eyes.
"Fine," the girl said. "I think I've lost my parents though. Did you see which path they went up?"
Hiccup vaguely remembered the family that had wandered through a few minutes before, but he couldn't for the life of him say which way they had gone.
He shook his head. The girl sighed.
"Never mind," she said, gently kicking up some of the leaves from the ground.
"I can show you the way back to the town, if you like?" he said.
"Nah," the girl said. "They'll come back when they see I'm missing. I'll wait."
She hovered on the path for a moment, looking thoroughly uncomfortable, her thumbs still in her pockets while her fingers tapped on her legs. Hiccup shifted up on his rock, leaving space for her and the girl sat down, smiling at him gratefully.
She was even prettier now.
Hiccup turned back to his sketch, trying to slow his breathing from the automatic there's-a-pretty-girl-sitting-next-to-me reaction. A minute or so passed, and he registered that she was looking over his shoulder at the drawing.
"That's amazing," she said.
Hiccup looked up at her and then back at his drawing and then back at her. "You think?"
"Yeah," she said, flashing him a smile. "You have talent."
That smile. Hiccup was thoroughly disarmed by that smile.
He can't help but smile too, and he knew – he just knew – that his annoying dimples were showing. "Thanks," he said, looking down at the book.
"I'm Astrid," she said.
"Hiccup."
There was a pause. "What kind of a name is Hiccup?"
Hiccup rolled his eyes, but his smile was still creeping at his lips. "Never heard that one before."
Astrid grinned, and Hiccup hoped that she wouldn't notice his heart speeding up or the sweat, slippery across his hands. He wiped them on his trousers.
"You on holiday too?" she asks.
"Kind of. My Dad has a second home here and we come down every summer."
Astrid wrinkled her nose. "Second home, huh? Lucky for some."
Hiccup kicked himself. God, how did he manage to flaunt the fact that his father was rich? He must sound so rude and entitled. Now Astrid wouldn't want to talk to him anymore.
He didn't have time to say anything else, because a group of three people came back down the path, calling out Astrid's name. She scowled and hopped off of her rock.
"Where were you?" a woman, presumably Astrid's mother, said. "We were worried."
Astrid pouted, moving away from her mother's touch. "I had to tie my shoelaces, and when I got up, you were gone."
Her mother's face screwed up apologetically, and Astrid shook her head, telling her not to worry about it. Their conversation continued for a little bit and Hiccup kept his head down, his eyes on his sketchbook. He'd already offended her once, he didn't need to creepily listen into her conversations, either. She was going to leave and he'd probably never see her again, and she'd either forget about him or remember him as the rude one who'd acted like a spoilt rich boy.
But before they left, Astrid hung back, looking back over at him with a smile on her face. "See you around, Hiccup?" she said, her eyes sparkling.
His heart leapt and he tried not to smile like a Cheshire cat. "Yeah. See you."
Astrid wanted to see him again.
Astrid stuffed her face into her pillow, cringing.
God, he must have thought she was so stupid. She couldn't help but think about how she'd mumbled "I think I've lost my parents," like some toddler. What must this stupidly attractive boy with the silliest name she'd ever heard have thought of her?
He was so… well, she couldn't think of one word to describe him. He had the most intense eyes, and when he looked at her she felt like he could see right through her, as if he could see all of her deepest thoughts and secrets. The way he had concentrated so hard on his sketchbook and created the most fantastic drawings. And those dimples, oh, those dimples.
It was times like this that reminded her that she was a teenage girl. She always had to remind herself that there was nothing wrong with that, and that dorky crushes were probably a thing across all the genders, but she still felt a little silly.
Come on, Astrid, she told herself. Pull yourself together.
"What's up with you?" his brother said, when he came in the room.
Her voice was muffled from the pillow. "Nothing."
"Is it about getting lost today?"
"No," she snapped, flipping over onto her side and pulling the pillow over her head.
The next time they met was in a supermarket, of all places.
Astrid was dawdling behind her family when she saw him navigating his trolley down another aisle. She wandered over him, glad that this time she wasn't soaked through.
She held her hands behind her, sidling up to him and smiling. "Hi," she said.
Hiccup jumped, and Astrid couldn't hold back a laugh, a light little sound.
"Astrid!" he said, his hand running through his hair. "Hi, Astrid. Hi. What are you doing here?"
He was adorably flustered. It made Astrid smile even more.
"Gotta buy food. Self-catering holiday cottages, y'know?" she said.
Hiccup shrugged. "Yeah. My Dad kicked me out of the house to buy stuff. He said he was too busy."
Astrid sucked in a breath and looked at Hiccup curiously. She was sure there was a bigger story there to tell but she wasn't going to ask him about it now. She hovered by his trolley, shifting from foot to foot.
"So," she said. "What do you do for fun around here?"
Hiccup shrugged again, a quick jerk of his shoulders up and down. He did that a lot, Astrid had noticed.
"I don't know," he said. "Draw. Read. Explore places."
"You don't suppose I could come along with you sometimes, do you?" she said.
"Yes," he said, quickly.
Then, his hand raked through his hair. "I mean, yeah. Sure. If you like."
He kept mumbling and Astrid couldn't help but smile. "Tomorrow?" she said, putting a stop to his stammering.
A smile spread across his face, those dimples pinching his cheeks. "Yeah, tomorrow."
Hiccup cursed himself. Why couldn't he keep himself together around pretty girls? And holy hell, was Astrid pretty.
If Hiccup had thought Astrid was beautiful before when her attire was a soaked anorak and her hair had fallen in dishevelled curls, then she was breath-taking now. She wore her hair in a braid, twisted in perfect curls and falling down her shoulders. But what he had noticed most were her eyes and how bright they were; how they sparkled when her voice took on a teasing tone.
And how incredibly blue they were. Like the sky when the clouds clear, and the sun comes out and the whole world gets bathed in a hopeful light, the kind that tells you that everything might go alright after all.
That was how Hiccup felt when he was around Astrid.
They got along like a house on fire. At first, Astrid assumed that she and Hiccup were nothing alike, but as the days passed as she got to know him better, she learned that she and Hiccup were more similar than she would ever have guessed.
He had the same dry, sarcastic humour – perhaps even more so than she did. They were both fiercely passionate about things; Hiccup for animal rights and Astrid for equality.
Hiccup learned that Astrid had itchy feet; she couldn't stand to be still for very long. When Hiccup would sit still and get lost in his drawings, Astrid would be doing cartwheels in the grass.
They talked about everything.
It wasn't long before Hiccup told Astrid everything about his father. He told her about how his mother died when he was baby and how since then his father hadn't been able to look at him properly since then. He told her about how his father had once shouted that he'd rather his mother was here than him.
That conversation had ended in tears for both of them with Astrid's arms wrapped around Hiccup, holding him tight and refusing to let go. She'd stayed with him for most of the night, enduring the wrath of her mother when she dragged herself back to the holiday cottage, far too late.
She'd told him about her family's money troubles. She told him about how she would sometimes wake up in the night and hear whispered, worried conversations. She told him about how sometimes they had been more than whispers.
Sometimes when they talked, the big elephant in the room was unavoidable.
Once, when the sky had cleared and the sun had risen from its hiding place, Astrid addressed it. She was lying on her stomach, twiddling a blade of grass through her fingers. Hiccup lay next to her, staring up into the sky, a hand over his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun.
"Where do you live, Hiccup?" Astrid said, out of the blue.
Hiccup glanced over at her. "Glasgow. Why?"
Astrid winced, rolling over onto her back and covering her face with her hands. "So, Scotland?"
"Yeah," he said. "Why?"
She groaned. "Because I live in Cornwall."
The penny dropped.
Hiccup didn't really know what to say after that, so he stayed silent, mulling it all over in his head.
"We're not going to be able to see each other after this holiday ends, are we?" Astrid said.
Her voice was quiet. There was something sorrowful in the way she said it.
Hiccup stayed quiet for a moment.
"Let's just enjoy it while we can," he said.
Suddenly six weeks didn't seem very long at all.
Astrid had never really had a good experience with boys.
The boys at her school left little to be desired. They were too loud, too rude. They made dirty, uncomfortable jokes that made Astrid's skin crawl and they said things that made her want to cover her face with her hoody or not leave the house. The other guys would seem nice by comparison, until you got to know them better and realise that they all had a nasty side under their nice façade.
Hiccup was nice. That's the only way she could think to explain him, he was just… nice. He listened to her when she talked, patiently waiting for her to finish instead of interrupting her. . His eyes shone when he spoke, like he truly cared about what he was talking about. Astrid loved that about him. None of the boys at her school seemed to care about anything at all, besides themselves.
Hiccup cared. Hiccup cared so fiercely, it radiated through him, and Astrid could almost feel it in the air. When they found a topic that he was passionate about, he'd just keep talking and talking and Astrid could do nothing but sit there and listen in wonder at this boy.
It started with little kisses. On the cheek kisses, usually delivered after a fond punch from Astrid. Hiccup's eyes would go wide and his shoulders would scrunch up, a blush creeping across his cheeks. Astrid couldn't help but find it adorable, which it only made her do it more, and before she realised she was doing it; before she could stop herself, she was just kissing him on the cheek, without the punch beforehand.
The realisation hit one afternoon, an afternoon she'd had away from Hiccup, lying in her shared room, reading a book. When it hit, the book fell from her fingers and landed on her face.
"What's up with you?" her brother said, from where he was sitting on his own bed.
Astrid could feel bile rising up in her throat and she had to stop herself from snapping. "Nothing," she said, rolling onto her side and putting a pillow over her head.
Inside, she felt a little high. All the little things were running through her head; the cheek kissing, the brushing of skin that one time they held hands, and all she could feel was fear. She feared the way that at the thought of all of this her heart was speeding up, her stomach flipping over and over. She feared that Hiccup felt the same way, and she feared just how desperately she wanted that to be case.
But most of all, she feared the clock, ticking like a time bomb, counting down until the moment when she and Hiccup would never be able to see each other again.
Her fears came true one Saturday.
It was raining outside, the kind of thick rain that hammers down relentlessly and takes no prisoners, battering against the rooftop and sliding down the windows.
Hiccup and Astrid were curled up on Hiccup's sofa. They'd been play fighting, and somehow Hiccup had ended up so close, inches away from Astrid's face. And then he'd said it.
"Can I kiss you right now?"
His eyes were shining when he looked up at her, and Astrid felt time freeze. All she could hear was her own heartbeat, and the sound of air rushing in and out as she breathed. She wanted so badly to bridge the gap between them, to lean forward and press her lips against his.
But she didn't.
Instead, she inched back ever so slightly and uttered one small word.
"No."
Hiccup backed away, and the space between them increased once more. Almost immediately, his face turned red and his hand went to his hair, his eyes looking anywhere but her.
"Sorry," he stammers. "I-I'm so sorry, I just thought – I got it wrong, I thought-"
"No," Astrid said, grabbing his hands and pulling them gently down between them. "You didn't get it wrong."
"Then why…?"
Astrid's voice was shaky as she spoke. "Hiccup, this is all so… so temporary. We live half way across the country from each other."
"I don't care," Hiccup said, his voice so fierce that Astrid's heart did a flip.
"I care," she said, holding back tears that were threatening to spill. "Hiccup, when this holiday is over, we're not going to be able to see each other again – at least not regularly. To start something like this, knowing that I wouldn't be able to see you all the time, hurts too much."
A single tear slipped from her eye, and she rubbed it away with the back of her sleeve, refusing to cry in front of Hiccup. But Hiccup saw anyway and pulled her forward, and before she knew it she was falling into Hiccup's arms.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, after a while.
"It's not your fault," Hiccup said. "It's okay, really."
But it wasn't okay, not really.
She didn't mean to leave it like that with Hiccup. She honestly didn't mean to stay away.
But when she got back to the holiday cottage, her mother was waiting for her, wagging a finger.
"You've been spending too much time with that boy," she said, snippily.
Once again, Astrid found herself struggling not to snap at a family member. She'd had a horrible day, and she definitely did not need her mother going around and making it worse.
"This is a family holiday," her mother said. "And you've hardly been around."
Astrid shrugged. How could she argue? She hadn't been around. She'd been with Hiccup; she'd been spending all of her time with Hiccup.
So, she didn't really have a choice but to listen when her mother told her that for the next few days she'd be sticking with the family.
And so, for the next few days, she did everything with her family. She trailed behind them as they wandered through fields, woods and dirt paths that seemed to lead nowhere. She made polite conversation, and she didn't complain, not once, even though she was itching with boredom.
Something inside her just felt wrong, sort of empty, like someone had flicked a switch and turned off her smile. She couldn't quite seem to get her spirits up about anything, not even the things she actually did enjoy about family holidays – the meals out, not having to worry about school and the like. Something was missing, and she knew it had to do a little with her homesickness and a lot to do with not having seen Hiccup.
On the fifth day since the kiss incident, she decided she couldn't take it anymore and took herself over the Haddock mansion. Her hand hovered over the door, wondering if maybe she should just let sleeping dogs lie. Maybe she should just leave and let this be a weird thing that happened to her once; maybe she should just get on with her holiday and then with her life, and forget about the nicest boy with the silliest name she had ever met.
But before she forced herself to knock. She wasn't going to let herself turn away from this.
She looked sad. In the five days since he had seen her, she'd somehow changed her appearance. Not to anyone else's eyes maybe, she was still the same blonde haired, blue eyed girl, but to him she looked so different.
The teasing sparkle in her eye had somehow been distinguished, and now her eyes looked like glass – cold and sad. She didn't fill the space anymore, she sort of shrunk into herself, like her confidence had all been lost.
"I didn't think you were coming back," was the first thing that Hiccup said.
As soon as the words had fallen out of his mouth, he cursed his voice for sounding so small and lost.
"Sorry," she said, and somehow her voice sounded small and lost too. "I didn't mean to."
She rambled on some explanation about her mother making her stay with the family for a few days, but Hiccup didn't really listen. He was just happy to see Astrid again, happy that she wasn't angry at him for trying to kiss her.
"Maybe I was wrong before," she said, after he'd let her in and they were sitting on the living room sofa.
"Mmm?" he mumbled, looking up at her and hardly daring to hope.
"Hiccup," she said, pulling her legs up onto the sofa and taking his hands in hers. "I like you. I like you an awful lot, more than I've ever liked anyone else before. But there's only three weeks left of this holiday, and after that it could be years before we get to see each other regularly again. I just… don't know whether I want that."
He listened intently to her little speech and then threaded his fingers through hers. "Three weeks," he said, thoughtfully. "Three weeks, and then it stops. We can go back home and move on with our lives."
Astrid's eyes flickered up to look into his. A not-quite-there smile tugged at her lips. "Are you proposing a big summer romance?"
Hiccup shrugged and bowed his head, something he always did when he was a little flustered, Astrid had noticed.
"When you put it like that…" he mumbled, but he didn't quite manage to finish the sentence, because Astrid had inched forward and pressed her lips to his.
Her lips were light and soft, and Hiccup felt a lurching in his stomach, butterflies fluttering all over the place. He could feel her smile on his mouth, and when she pulled away, he could see the sparkle back where it belonged in her eyes.
Dating Hiccup Haddock was something close to bliss.
He was so kind and considerate. He always asked first before doing anything – even if it was something they had done ten times over.
It was just so light, and easy with him. In the past, Astrid had been in one or two relationships, and they had just been so difficult. Either they had been anxiety-inducing, ending up with Astrid sitting up at night worrying about how she wasn't good at relationships, or the guy hadn't treated her right – and of course, she hadn't stuck with any of those guys, because she knew her worth god damn it.
Being with Hiccup was just… simple. He didn't try and make her do anything she didn't want to and he didn't make her feel guilty about anything. He respected her. Being around him made her happy, happier than she had been in a while.
Their relationship didn't change very much, only now there were kisses, and there were cuddles. On rainy days, Astrid would stay at Hiccup's house and they would snuggle on the sofa and watch Netflix on Hiccup's laptop. On sunny days, they'd go out together and explore the area. Astrid had a new-found appreciation for the countryside and the world around her. The place really was beautiful.
Hiccup met Astrid's family, and despite her mother's initial reservations, they had invited him along onto many of their family outings (her brother had nudged at her with a 'told-you-so' look on his face that earned him a punch in the arm).
Yes, dating Hiccup was close to perfect.
But there was a time limit.
Two weeks passed faster than a blink of an eye.
The end of summer didn't seem so distant and far away anymore, and all at once is seemed as if Astrid couldn't get enough time with Hiccup. She kept seeing a calendar in her head, watching the days tick slowly down until the time when the two would have to separate for good. She kept trying to hold onto the days, to keep time still so that she could stay in the moment with him, but they slipped through her fingers in the way that time does.
A week became five days. Five days became four. Four days became three, and eventually the week completely fizzled away until there were only two days left before Astrid had to leave.
They sat on Hiccup's sofa, a place that had become theirs, Hiccup's head pressed into Astrid shoulder.
"I don't want you to go," he mumbled into her sleeve.
Astrid placed a kiss on the top of his head. "Me neither."
They sat and held each other like that for as long as they could. They said nothing, for there was nothing that they could say to each other. All they wanted was to savour the moment that they could have the other in their arms, before they could never share that feeling again.
The time came. The clocks and the calendars flipped over and just like that their time was up. Astrid had to pack up all of her things and put them in the car.
Hiccup watches her do all of this, wishing there was something profound he could say to wrap all of this up, something satisfying he could say to end this well, to make the last page of their romance story end conclusively, but he feared that if he tried to talk all he would do was cry.
The last thing he wanted was to see Astrid drive away, especially with the knowledge that he probably wasn't going to see her again. A part of him wishes he could go back and stop all of this before he started – let this whole summer be a big what if, and not have the pain of seeing the girl he loved leave.
He was pretty sure he loved her. He never told her because of the time limit they'd inflicted upon themselves. What was the point of love if it only had to end?
Astrid packed up her stuff and loaded the car, all too aware of Hiccup's quiet presence around her. She wanted him to speak, wanted him to fill the air with his excited chatter, make her feel less like this was a sombre occasion.
She wanted him to make noise. She hated this silent Hiccup, she hated him being still. Hiccup made noise, Hiccup made sarcastic comments, Hiccup moved and tapped things and he was not at all quiet. Him being silent just felt wrong. She wished he would act normal so that it wouldn't feel like they were never going to see each other again.
Astrid was pretty sure she loved him, this ridiculous boy with a silly name and a talent for drawing. A part of her hated herself for putting this stupid time limit on their whole thing. She reasoned with herself that there had been some sense in what she had decided; she really didn't want a long distance relationship to mess with her life. She didn't need that drama.
But when she looked back at Hiccup, she wondered if it might be worth it.
When it was time for Astrid to leave, she ran towards Hiccup and wrapped her arms around him, for once not caring that her parents were watching.
"I'm going to miss you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hiccup could barely speak, managing to get nothing out but the word "same."
She wanted to say something more, wanted to suggest that maybe this didn't have to be the last time they saw each other, but she didn't say anything. She just held him, and he held her.
Then Astrid's mother honked the horn of their car, and Astrid had to pull away. She pressed a kiss to his lips, and then turned and ran.
And then she was gone, gone for good.
Hiccup's father found him lying on the sofa, staring straight up at the ceiling, a blank expression on his face. He sighed, and pulled a chair over towards the boy, dropping himself into it.
"Alright, son," Stoick said. "What's eating you?"
Hiccup's eyes widened and blinked a few times, sitting up to stare dumbfounded at his father's face.
Stoick rolled his eyes. "I do notice things, no matter what you think. Is it to do with the girl? The blonde one?"
Hiccup sighed, and rested his head back on the sofa cushion, his gaze back up towards the ceiling.
"She's gone now," he said.
"Maybe you'll see her again one day," Stoick said.
"No," Hiccup said. "I won't."
Six weeks later, Hiccup sits on his bed back home in Scotland, staring up at the ceiling listlessly. His father had gone back to ignoring him completely as soon as the holiday was over, once again caught up in his work life – the life that didn't involve Hiccup.
Too often he daydreams about tracking her down, about setting off from home and slowly hitchhiking his way across the country until he found her. In his daydreams, he stands up and fights all the obstacles in his way. He doesn't care how far away she is, he doesn't care about all of the things that might get in his way. All he cares about is Astrid Hofferson, and getting to see her again. The story of his struggle for love would be written down in the novels and he'd be hailed as a romantic hero.
But that's never how real life is supposed to go.
She'd told him that it had to stop when summer ended, and he'd never go against her wishes. Hiccup supposes that he'll always remember this summer – his big summer of love – the year he met Astrid. Maybe he'll grow up and maybe he'll meet someone else and maybe he'll love them, but he will never forget the blonde haired girl with eyes like stars and a smile that made him feel like he was flying.
He resigns himself to the fact that Astrid Hofferson will only ever be a beautiful, bittersweet memory.
That is, until his father knocks on his door.
"Mail call," he says gruffly, dropping a postcard onto Hiccup's bed.
As soon as the door closes, Hiccup reaches for it, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. The front is tacky and touristy, with a brightly coloured picture of a beach with a cartoon seagull and a bucket and spade. It's from Cornwall.
His heart beating hard and his hands shaking, he turns the postcard over. On the back, in big loopy handwriting is written:
Nothing has to be temporary.
Below that, there's a number and a kiss.
Hiccup smiles and reaches for his phone.