Explanation for this piece of crap: My...third cousin is living here, and her wedding is coming up, and I am tired even though it's fun. There's a pre wedding party coming up at our house, and I had to get the guest list ready, set the soundtrack, teach my sisters to dance (even though I have no fricking idea how to dance myself, especially not these Bollywood-esque type), and go a bunch of places. And, you know, my mom's stressed out and, - no one really cares, so I'll just stop. Try to enjoy this horrible, stress-induced story.

"Give me the strongest thing you've got."

The boy behind the counter laughed as she slumped her head on the table. He kneeled down so that he was eye level with her. "Not a wedding person?"

She studied him. He couldn't be much older or younger than her, and his nametag read "Hiccup." Stupid name, but it didn't matter. If he was willing to listen to her talk, then his name could Rumpelstiltskin for all she cared. Right now, her mother had finally given her a five minute break while she finalised things, and she just wanted to let everything out.

"I usually am, but my whole summer has been spent getting ready for this." She pushed her bang from her face and sighed. "I think I'm sweating."

After her second year of college, Astrid had hoped to spend the summer relaxing, not helping to plan a wedding. And a pre wedding party. And an after wedding party. Her family was crazy. Absolutely off their rocket. Her cousin was a bit overwhelmed by all of this happening too, but it was her wedding, she was bound to be overwhelmed.

"Well, you still look very beautiful, ma'am." The boy gave her a winning smile, still leaning forward the counter. She could see the freckles on his face.

Astrid raised her eyes and put her head in her hand. "Thank you. Now, how about that drink?"

"Can't give you any alcohol, ma'am," he replied, leaning back against the counter behind him. He didn't appear to be very sorry about it. In fact, he was...holding back a laugh?

"Can't give you anything, actually." He shrugged and jumped back, sitting on the counter. "Orders. Until the guests arrive, no drinks. And even then, no alcohol."

The girl stared at him in horror. "Why not?"

This was unacceptable. Everyone knew that getting wasted was one of the best parts of weddings. What was the point, otherwise?

"Kids, milady. No need for them to be exposed to it. I think your mother is the one who set that rule."

"Fuck," she hissed, banging her fist on the counter, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to ignore that? And milady, really? What, do you flirt with every girl who wants a drink?"

He grinned at her. "Only you. Forgive me, ma'am. Won't do it again."

"Astrid."

"What?"

She crossed her arms and tossed her braid back, making sure to look like someone not to mess with. Exhaustion was no excuse for bad appearance. "My name is Astrid. No need for 'ma'am'. I'm not my mother."

"Astrid," he repeated mockingly, and she knew he was making fun of her, but didn't know how to explain it. It wasn't the type that Snotlout did, the one that made her want to punch him. This was a...unique type of teasing.

He got off the counter and walked towards her, putting his elbows on the counter and flashing her a cute smile. That was really the only word to describe him. He was cute. And witty, apparently. And tall, and sassy. Okay, there were a lot of words to describe him.

"Well, Astrid, I'll be here the whole time, so if you wanna talk, let your tension out, I'll be here. It's pretty boring, anyway. It'll be nice to have someone to talk to." He tipped an imaginary hat and his grin grew wider.

She laughed. A genuine, easy, laugh actually escaped her throat after maybe a week. She leaned forward with her own teasing smile. "If I have the sudden urge to talk to cute, dorky, drink servers, I'll come find you."

The boy smiled at her, and then let out a laugh of his own. "That's my title, milady. Cute, dorky, drink server."

"Don't let it go to your head." And then she heard her mother's voice calling her, and she gave him a half apologetic look before turning around.

But before she left, she turned around and quirked her lips upwards. "Thanks, Hiccup."

He was staring at her, still leaning on the counter, and he inclined his head with a playful smile.

"No problem, ma'am."

My room is hot, and I am tired, and this oneshot sucks. Good day.