"What'd you suppose I'd be like if we'd never met?"
Hiccup looked up, surprised by the question. Astrid didn't met his eyes, instead keeping her gaze on the vibrant red mug she twisted anxiously back and forth in her hands. Her cheeks were flushed from the crisp wind racing down the street – a sweet cheery color that matched her lips perfectly. Her golden curls provided marvelous contrast to the bright blue of the sky behind her.
Choking down the remaining crumbs of his utterly unsatisfying croissant, Hiccup replied slowly, hesitantly, not quite sure where the conversation would lead. "Well, I'd probably still be the anti-social twerp with his nose pressed too far into a book."
He tried to force a laugh, which she mirrored – all the nervousness and trepidation he felt reflected right back in her fidgety fingers and wobbly smile.
She still wouldn't meet his eyes.
They'd been doing this jig for a while now – avoiding the real issue, feelings, complications. Neither wanted to make a move forward, like they were standing on the top of a foggy cliff; they might be at the edge, they might not. Neither wanted to ruin what they already had.
Hiccup sighed, knowing that Astrid desired an answer not covered by jokes or rambling excuses. Knowing that he would not be able to provide one.
The waitress interrupted their awkward pause, dropping off the check. Hiccup promptly pick it up. Astrid barely protested, which was odd, because his best-friend was fiercely opposed to anyone doing anything for her.
Hiccup tried to avoid frowning, but when around her, it was hard to control his facial expressions (sometimes – like that time she wore a sundress, and he ended up drooling).
Astrid visibly winced. "Sorry," she muttered. "I've just been…off."
Hiccup nodded, like he believed her. Signing the receipt with a flourish, he placed the paper and tray on the end of the table, and turned back to the blonde. She'd pulled out her phone, her brow furrowed, tapping at the screen.
"Ugh. Ruff broke the washing machine again," she groaned, stood up abruptly, and grabbed her bag and sweatshirt. "I have to go." Astrid shifted on her feet, obviously not sure how to end their meeting. "I – thank you," she finally decided.
Then she turned on her heel and took off down the sidewalk, leaving Hiccup alone at a table with a dry croissant, and empty coffee cup, and a heavy heart.
Mentally cursing himself, Hiccup slapped his head into his hands, sliding his palms slowly down his face, imagining what was left of his pride melting with them. Staring after his best-friend's retreating form, he felt a familiar stab of pain.
"If only we were brave enough," he murmured, needing to hear it more than say it. "It seems we're simply stuck in this pathetic dance."