The engine in Hiccup's car would not start.

"Shit."

He turned the key again, naively hoping it would work this time, but it did not.

"Come on, baby -" he muttered underneath his breath, trying to fight the despair that was slowly taking over him, "- work for me. Please, please, work for me."

The vehicle remained indifferent to his pleading though, and refused to cooperate, no matter how kindly its owner would ask. Hiccup growled, and banged his forehead against the wheel.

"The gods hate me."

He only stayed in this position for a few mere seconds, as he quickly gathered how pointless it was. There really was no time to waste, and he would not spend it doing nothing.

He got out of the car quickly, and locked it, wondering on how else he could reach Astrid's house now. She lived in the middle of an estate – no bus would take him close enough to make it worth the trouble. He wouldn't dare to borrow his father's car, either, and calling a taxi made even less sense.

Hiccup frowned.

Astrid lived a bit less than two miles away. Fine.

He would run.

Considering his prosthetic, it seemed to be easier said than done, but Hiccup had faith in his own experience. After all, it wasn't yesterday when he had lost his leg, and he truly believed that those eight years of practice would be just enough to allow him to complete that crazy mission of his.

In all of his life, he had never run that fast – and he certainly hadn't tried to do it in a state of such an agitation. He stumbled, slipped, and lost his balance – yet he kept pushing forward, knowing how much depended on it. He would not give up.

Not in this case. Not in this life.

He sprinted through the parks and streets, crossing the roads in a hurry, paying no mind to the red lights that were supposed to stop him. He almost got hit by a car twice as a result, however, that still was too little to make him behave more carefully. Carefully meant slow, and slow meant late – and he could never forgive himself for not making it on time.

So he would reduce his pace for a moment, raise his hand in an apologetic gesture, and resume his reckless race in the very same minute.

Eventually, he got there. He was feeling dizzy for the second time this morning, only now it was caused by the extreme exhaustion he would not believe possible. But it didn't matter.

Looking at his watch, Hiccup realised it was only eight; two minutes past, as his mother would have said.

He sighed in relief. He still had a chance.

Had it been for any other person, Hiccup probably would have wondered if it wasn't a bit too early for such an unexpected visit, but knowing Astrid as well as he did, he was sure the girl had been up long before he had been – even regarding how early he'd got up that morning. He smiled, remembering all the times she had scolded him for staying in bed for too long, completely incapable of understanding that, unlike herself, some people were just physically indisposed to rising up with the sun.

She was an early bird, and refused to acknowledge that he was not.

Still smiling, he approached the main entrance of the flat, and opened it with ease. For as far as he could remember, the lock had been broken, and he would be more than surprised to find it otherwise.

All he had to do now was to reach Astrid's door, call her, and beg the fate she would agree to listen to him.

He could totally do this.

He went upstairs, jumping every two steps, impatient to finally meet her face to face, and say everything he needed to say.

He realised that in all of this rush, he hadn't even thought about the specific words he would use. How was he supposed to deliver the news exactly? What should he start with? Would she even care to listen to him, when she realised what he meant?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, however, Hiccup ignored it, too focused on his own thoughts. He really had other things to worry about right now.

It wasn't long before he finally found himself standing before her door; the bell wasn't working – obviously – so he knocked, tapping his foot as he waited. His phone vibrated once more, and once more it was disregarded. Yet, minutes passed, and his knocking remained unanswered, no matter how many times he resumed the action.

When he heard the buzzing for the third time, he groaned, and finally pulled the device out.

Three messages, and all were from his mother.

Astrid's just come in. She was looking for you.

Hiccup transfixed, as if someone had just hit him with a hammer. Astrid was in his house? Why would she do that?

He looked down at the screen again.

She says she'll wait, you don't need to run.

How did she...?

I would, if I were you, though.

Later on, he couldn't even remember the way back home, even though he certainly was moving slower – he was tired beyond imagination, and knowing that his time was no longer limited, he allowed himself to reduce the pace without feeling guilty about it.

It didn't mean he avoided almost being killed by a car for the third time that day.

He crossed the threshold of his house feeling as if he was about to faint any moment; but it didn't matter. Valka eyed him carefully, and he only waved a hand at her, when he realised that he was probably looking absolutely disgusting. His shirt was sticking out from his trousers, his body was covered with sweat. He preferred not to think about his hair.

Well, there goes the romanticism.

His mother pointed towards the library, saying nothing, and Hiccup nodded with gratitude.

The library. So their story even had a frame.

He smiled weakly, trying to calm down his nerves; however, it would not do. The storm inside of him was rising again, and he wasn't sure if it was any better this time.

The man slowly opened the door, scanning the room in search of his friend. She was there – standing by the window, she had her back turned to him, her arms embracing her own torso. There was nothing extraordinary in her appearance. Dressed in her casual red, checked shirt and tight, black jeans, she looked as natural as she could, and in all honestly, had she been wearing the finest gown in the history of fashion, Hiccup wouldn't be any more amazed.

It was his Astrid. He was almost grateful for it being so.

He cleared his throat, hoping to gain her attention in the possibly least intrusive way. The girl jerked her head, and turned towards him, staring at him with a foggy sight, which seemed so unlike her. She nodded in greeting; however, when he took a step in her direction, she raised her hand to stop him.

Surprised as he was, he obeyed; Astrid was no longer looking at him.

"Why did you want to see me?" she asked in a small voice, as if afraid of being answered.

"I need to talk to you about something, Ast," he responded carefully, a little confused with her behaviour. She might have been out of spirit the day before, but this was something else. There was a kind of withdrawal in her features – yet, Hiccup refused to acknowledge what it could possibly mean. "It is rather… crucial, I'd say."

"And what would that be?"

"The truth."

Their eyes met, and for a few seconds, they remained like that, staring at one another, searching for answers to questions they still didn't dare to ask. Hiccup's gaze was anxious, yet firm – he knew what he felt, and was ready to take the consequences. There was fear in his soul, but there was also the bravery that allowed him to face it.

Astrid's glare was different. It wasn't steady, it wasn't firm – it went from hope to fright, from fright to sorrow, from sorrow to despair. At last, it gained the hue of its initial resignation, because now, all her faith was gone.

She broke the silence first.

"You found your soulmate," she stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hiccup gasped, astonished.

"Yes. Yes, I believe I did."

He clenched his fists, weighing his words, hoping he would manage to say the right thing; Astrid opened her mouth to respond, but he didn't let her do it. She had to let him speak first. "Please, Astrid, don't. There's something… something really important I've been hiding from you for way too long. I've been a coward, but I believed it was for the best. I was wrong. You must allow me to fix that, and I need to do it right now, because hell, I don't think I'll have the guts to say it out loud after hearing anything more from you."

He was watching her intensively, expecting her to give him the slightest sign of understanding, but she didn't. Astrid was standing completely motionless, her grip around herself even tighter now, and her sight fixed on the floor.

He had nothing to do, but continue.

Author's note: And the cliffhangerrrrrr! I'm absolutely awful. Yeah, I know.

Still, I couldn't refrain from cutting the chapter in this particular moment - I have my own reasons for it.

I really, really hope you enjoyed this third chapter as the two posted earlier - and at this point, I really need to thank you for all the support you've given me so far. Over a thousand views, seven reviews, forty followers - all of this in two weeks time. It may be little for some, but it means a world to me. Thank you.

Of course, I'll be even more grateful f you decide to comment on this one, too :)

Oh, and one more thing: Eret hasn't faked his mark. As much as I like the creativity, it's not what happened here. Eret's scar was in fact much bigger at the beginning - but then only a part of it remained, gaining a look of Astrid's mark. And it's exactly how it works (remember that Stoick hadn't had a mark until he was able to grow a beard!).

I guess that would be all. I'm leaving for holidays tomorrow, so I won't be able to update THAT quickly, but I'll make sure you won't have to wait longer than two weeks.

God bless you!
Margaret