A/N: Well, thank you a lot. I really didn't expect all the reviews and all the encouragement I got. I know it sounds lame. Like I KNOW it.
And trust me when I say I'm the last person who wants to be lame. It's bad for story writing after all ;) This whole thing is crazy. I've never uploaded a fanfiction before so it's all sort of new to me. I'm receiving views worldwide! Yeah talking to you people who view and don't live a comment/review or just don't put this story in their favourites, like what are you waiting for? A written invitation? Join the hype train!
Another thing. Unlike other authors, I really do accept critisism. But it has to be constructive. If you feel like leaving a bad review, do it. But do not forget to add a little tip for me to follow. Tell me what you don't like about the story and what I should refine about it from your point of view. I want to get the chance to improve my writing and I can't do it by myself.
But if your reviews contain just plain insults then you can keep it to yourselves, really. I don't need that.
Enjoy
Xx
He was a dumbass.
He was flying in the air.
The blue sky and Toothless, his only companions. The gentle breeze was rustling through his hair. He was used to heights. They made him feel alive, up there he'd always feel like he had a purpose. This was the only place where he'd ever find peace in. And yet, today, he couldn't get himself to feel peaceful. At all.
What was wrong with him? He hurt his best friend. The person he cared about the most. And why? Because he so desperately wanted to believe that a stupid sketchbook was his own personal property, when in reality it really wasn't.
He wiped his face with his left hand in a resigned way. He had really screwed up this time.
He recalled the way she had screamed at him, the way she had begged him to give the damn thing back.
The way she had cried upon his chest.
Why did he do it? Why had he even felt such a need of picking up that sketchbook from the ground in the first place?What puzzled him the most was that he hadn't let go of that thing even when she claimed it was hers. If he hadn't been certain it was his he wouldn't have made such a fuss about the whole situation. He wouldn't have even initiated it.
He was sure. And most importantly, even though he would never admit it, he was scared she wouldn't let go. He was sort of attached to it. It resembled to that one specific sketchbook he kept at home. The one he'd always use as a draft to later on updating the book of dragons, which contained everything a person needed to know about those mysterious mesmerising enthralling creatures. However, his was just a prototype. It only contained intial rough sketches and a few notes he had wrote when firstly getting the possibility of approaching those creatures when he was young. It was pretty much useless when compared to the real thing.
But to him, it wasn't useless. To him it was special and it meant so much more than that.
It contained the first illustrations about a night fury ever made by a human. And he did it.
No one else. This made him feel proud of himself. However he never told anyone. He hated people boasting about themselves and he positively didn't want to become one of them. The sketchbook also contained personal observations he had made about Toothless in the cave that applied to every other existing dragon, aside from certain exeptions of course, thus it was important. His updates became even more frequent as the village started to train their own dragons. Thanks to this change he and his friends received the possibility of finally getting to train them, studying new species and getting to know them better than ever before.
It was no wonder his sketchbook grew wealthier by the day.
It was kind of upsetting though that he was no longer used to read or update it as much as he was before.
Now he had other copybooks to update. New places near Berk he had yet to discover. New maps that waited only for him to be drawn. New books that had captured his attention as he grew older through the years and felt the need to read.
That sketchbook represented his past.A beautiful portion of it. But still past.
Everyone enjoys reminding themselves of the past from time to time but sometimes it can be fogotten, put in a corner and be completely replaced by new events. What he wasn't willing to admit was that everyone needed past in order to look forward.
Especially him.
He had forgotten about the past. But all of that changed when one day, while tidying his room, he casually happened to take the sketchbook away from its resting point. The resting point being the little drawer underneath his desk, in which the sketchbook had been lying indisturbed for years hidden under several papers.
That day he remembered taking the sketchbook to the great hall at night to analyze it all over again, as a revision. He just wanted to remember a little more about the past and maybe feel a little bit more self conscious about where it all began. He also recalled Astrid coming by because he had asked her to. She had brought some papers to help him with the transcription. They had finished up late in the morning. After what seemed like hours to him, he remembered her noticing the time and rushing away immediately because of her parents. They usally woke up early in the morning and if they noticed she wasn't home, since she hadn't told anyone she would have spent the night with him, they would have probably been really upset.
She quickly left, saying goodbye while taking with her the books she had brought to help him with.
After a while she was gone, he decided to head home too but couldn't find his sketchbook.
He hadn't found it since.
That was why he had acted so suspiciously. As soon as he saw the sketchbook lying on the ground of Astrid's house he connected the sketchbook's presence to that flashback. It was odd that he hadn't been able to find it as soon as she had left. And a complete identical one happened to be resting upon Astrid's table that morning, at least happened to be before Stormfly had made it fall. He didn't think about it the moment she went away, but the whole thing made a lot more much sense then, when he found that sketchbook on the floor.
However he had been wrong the entire time. And now he was afraid he couldn't get to fix the damage he had created.
He now had to deal with the consequences of his actions.
Xx
"And these my fellow vikings, these are two perfect identical sketchbooks made out of the most precious leather material you could ever find all around the ancient world."
This was what trader Johann said at the group of young vikings that were no longer watching him in amazement and awe. All the attention he had previously drawn on him in showing them extraordinary things suddenly vanished as he showed them the two ordinary boring objects.
"Oh, come on Johann! Let us see something cooler, like some sword or something." Snotlout said to the trader, that was now wearing a displeased expression on his face.
"Well, my young friend, believe you me when I tell you this is indeed cooler than anything you would expect to find on any other trader's boat." It was obvious that Snotlout had annoyed him with his observation. The trader took his goods very seriously. Every single good he possessed whether it was an arm or just a simple sketchbook. And even the idea of being told that one of them was boring made him feel utterly irritated and disrespected. It was even worse than being interrupted while trying to tell about his adventures in the outer dangerous oceans and important encounters he often had with noblemen.
"Yeah Snotlout, those things are actually useful once you get the handle of it." Fishlegs quickly added up, noticing the uneasiness that was quickly starting to emerge between the two. Apart from stopping the conflict that was starting to take place, he was actually really curious about that sketchbook. He was interested in it, but he would have never even dared to think about buying the thing if their friends weren't on his side. He needed to be sure they wouldn't have made fun out of him, something he wasn't really sure of.
"Like I said, boring. The only thing warriors need is weapons. Everything else is just trash.Sketchbooks are stupid."
"Oh come on Snotlout, not everyone is a brainless idiot like you are. Those things are actually useful, believe it or not. You can write everything on it." Astrid had said while sitting on a barrel that was positioned onto the wooden deck of the boat. Fishlegs was right. They were useful. She had seen similar ones but they didn't compare. The leather was actually really well carved. And even she, that was no expert, could tell from a distance.
"You know, I would actually write how pretty you are."
He said in a flirtatious tone while putting his elbow on a barrel that was next to the one she was sitting on.
"Ugh. That's the best you've got?"
She said now tired of all his attempts at winning her off while crossing her arms.
He laughed nervously.
"How funny Astrid..."
"She doesn't want to admit she's secretly in love with me." He then added whispering his statement to everyone on the boat. In doing so, he mistakenly shifted his elbow from the barrel and this caused him to fall over. The twins started laughing while Fishlegs tried to contain his laughter.
Astrid just rolled her eyes.
"I'm sorry Snotty. I fear she'll never be into you." Tuffnut added in a serious yet playful way while trying to lift him up.
"I mean look at you. Short, coarse, rude, selfish, incredibly vain and-"
"You forgot dumb brother." Ruffnut said from behind him.
"I was just about to say that sis! How cool is that?" He said while hitting her helmet with his own. It was a gesture they were used to by now. They would do it everytime when thinking about the same thing.
"Okay, you two can stop now." He said disappointed.
"What are these?"
Everyone turned their heads towards the voice direction. It turned out being Ruffnut's. She was holding a little container in her hand. Her left one was instead holding some sort of herbs between her fingers.
Johann tensed up and ran towards her.
He took the container away from her and put the herbs back in. Then he put the lid on and proceeded to clear his throat.
"These, my dear girl, are herbs women take before sexual intercourse."
Everyone went silent.
The silence was interrupted almost immediately by Ruffnut. "So basically women take this before they bang?"
As she said that Astrid started to wonder why she befriended those people in the first place. She couldn't understand it. She hated Snotlout and the twins weren't exactly the smartest people to begin with, even though she knew Ruffnut was actually smarter than she wanted people to think. Maybe Fishlegs was the only good friend she had left. But sometimes even him could get on her nerves. Most of the time he talked about things she couldn't even comprehend.
"They are contraceptive herbs Ruffnut." She answered in a stern tone. She knew Ruffnut was actually really smart but most of the time she played dumb, all because of her brother. They were twins. Identical in everything they did. It only made sense that their stupidity would match. At least according to her logic.
"Well said, dear girl. It's nothing you young ladies have to worry about just yet." He said as he put the little box away.
He then turned around and cleared his voice.
"So, about those sketchbooks..."
"Who cares? Let us see the weapons already!"
"Hiccup said he wanted one the other day."
Astrid said, interrupting their speech. Everyone looked at her in disbelief. Fair enough. She thought it made sense after all.
"Since when do you even care about what Hiccup wants?" Snotlout asked.
Her and Hiccup weren't exactly friends. And they,as a group, always excluded him whether it was training sessions time or just luch time. Snotlout would never let him into the group even though he always tried to approach them. Mostly her. Gods, he was such a mess, in everything he did. Just a week ago he happened to lose a whole herd of sheep. How does one even lose a whole herd of sheep? He was always wandering off somewhere, always distracted and never where he should have been. It was actually no wonder no one talked to him. Gods, even she wouldn't talk to him. She wouldn't mock him though, something their friends would often do when given the occasion. Especially Snotlout.
They did exchange some words from time to time, but it was rare. Actually it was mostly him awkwardly slammering words in front of her when being forced to be in the same room as hers. She actually wasn't the one initiating any of the conversation because he always was.
"I don't. I just heard him talking to his father about it." It was true. She hadn't actually talked to him. She had just overheard a conversation he was having yesterday with his father about not wanting an axe but something he could write notes in instead, something that the chief wasn't willing to give him because he was pressuring him on getting an axe. She wouldn't have minded getting a sketchbook, but an axe would have suited her better. She would have taken it without hesitation if given the choice. But it was obvious by now that she was different from him. They were two completely different people.
Maybe this was probably the reason behind them not getting along.
"Well, since Johann has no weapons at all I'm leaving. I'm not willing to spend my entire day asking for something that he clearly doesn't even have. Let's go guys."
She saw her friends starting to walk away while she was still sitting on the high barrel. She didn't feel like going. Deep down, even though she would have never admitted it out loud, she knew something was wrong. Friends were supposed to be these wonderful people who would never let you down, who would never leave you in a moment of need, with which a person should feel completely comfortable with. And yet she couldn't bring herself to feel any comfort around them.
It was strange. They seemed and acted like her friends but at the same time weren't.
At a certain point Fishlegs noticed she wasn't following them.
"Uh...Astrid, are you coming?"
She had to turn her head in order to respond.
"Actually, I think I'll stick here for a while." She said while giving him a forced smile.
"Oh, okay. Bye then..."
She waved at him and then sighed as she turned her head. She was hoping someone would actually come back to ask her what was wrong, which was strange because she wanted to be alone but at the same time didn't. Unfortunately no one noticed. No one turned around to check on her. They all left. They always left. She was alone. Fine. She guessed she was cool with not having them around. She closed her eyes to let her mind drift for just a moment.
Then she opened them again.
In doing so, she realized she was no longer alone. Someone had come.
It was Hiccup.
He was giving his back to her while searching for, she supposed, was something to buy through Johann's goods. He had come so silently. She hadn't even heard him. It was no wonder he hadn't even greeted her. She never talked to him after all, not even when he tried talking to her first. When he was nearby she just usually forgot about his existence and simply prentended he was not there and played it cool, hoping that he wouldn't approach her to ask something. He used to approach her a lot more before. During the last period, not as much...
She knew it was ironic and even incosistent maybe, but she kinda liked the attention despite her never reciprocating it. She knew it was stupid from her but it was just the way it was.
"Hey." she said.
She saw him turning slowly and then furrowing slightly. He looked around him in disbelieve as if wanting to understand whether she was talking to him or not.
"He-Hey?"
She didn't know why she spoke. She didn't mean it. The word just sort of came out of her mouth. Maybe it was because they were alone. She would have never spoken to him if her friends had happened to be there. He had a few items in his hands but she couldn't quite distinguish one from the other.
"What you got there?"
He scratched his head. He'd always do it when talking to her. Well, he'd always do it when talking to anyone.
"Oh, y-you mean these? They're just a few books I took and a leather-bound sketchbook I found."
Oh, he found it. The one Johann had previously talked about. She always saw him alone reading something or writing on papers so she supposed it wasn't strange for him to get a sketchbook. Maybe since his dad hadn't allowed him to take it he had simply decided to take one himself. She had to admit. It was brave of him.
"You know, Johann showed an identical copy earlier."
All of a sudden his eyes went wide open. He swiftly turned around and started searching again through the items of the trader. She saw him taking something from the pile but couldn't tell what. As he turned again she saw him holding the copy of the sketchbook Johann had talked about. He dusted off the cover with his left hand and approached her.
"Here." He said as he handed the sketchbook to her.
She slowly took the leathered object from his hand.
"You should take it. I-I mean the texture is great. And ummhh-"
" What does make you think I want it?"
She knew he was only trying to do something nice for her and that maybe she should have probably given him some sort of a break but she just couldn't help it. They weren't friends. They both knew that, he especially knew that, in fact she didn't understand why he was acting like he cared, because she obviously didn't. And to top it all, she had never done anything remotely nice for him, except maybe allowing him to talk to her a few times.
"W-well, I-I suppose I saw you drawing a few times before and you could draw in it or may-maybe write something if you'd like."
She furrowed.
"Were you spying on me?"
He scratched his head while laughing.
"I-I, no."
She rolled her eyes.
"Nevermind. Forget it. I couldn't take it anyway."
This time, he was the one that furrowed.
"Oh, and why's that?"
It was because of her friends. They would have probably made fun out of her. But she didn't have the guts to admit it. So she decided on blatantly lying.
"I'm a warrior. I fight. I wouldn't have time for doing drawings or writings even if I wanted to."
"Oh."
Shortly afterwards she realized that what she had said came out wrong. She had basically told him he was not a warriorr. In seeing his sad expression she wished she'd never said that. She wished she could take it back but couldn't. He didn't deserve her treatment but yet here he was, listening, not flinching, not saying anything, not replying, not even once. She usually didn't think twice before speaking her mind. And she well recognised it was one of her biggest flaws.
"Well, you're missing out." She watched him paying his items and starting to go away. But before he exited the boat he newly approached her.
"Don't listen to Snotlout. Warriors can do plenty of things. Not everything is about fighting."
He had heard them. She wondered if he'd also heard her talking about him but decided not to ask.
She nodded and he smiled.
With this he finally left and now she was really alone on the floating boat. The sun was starting to set. She should have probably headed home. So she got up and started to go. In doing so she gave one final look at the sketchbook Hiccup had put on the barrel before leaving where she had been sitting not so long ago. She didn't know why, but for some odd reason she felt some sort of attraction to that little ordinary object.
Why was this so difficult? Why couldn't she bring herself to do what she simply wanted to do despite her friends' judgement? She let her head fall backwards in a resigned way while her eyelids went close. This was stupid.
But maybe she wanted it to be stupid. Her eyes opened and looked at the sketchbook one last time.
Maybe Hiccup was right. Not everything was about fighting.
Xx
She was lying on her bed, staring at the wooden ceiling of her bedroom. It was almost dark outside. She had basically lost an entire day. She hated not being productive. And yet, here she was, hopelessly overthinking stuff in her bedroom.
It almost happened. He had almost read her diary.
She remembered the way he had took it away from her. She remembered his eyes transpiring rage and nothing else. His expression had scared her. But maybe he had only acted as such because he had really thought the little item was his and not hers, even though she had clearly told him otherwise. But this still didn't justify his behaviour. He could have asked her nicely. He could have not been angry at her.
What had gotten into him? She wasn't used to that Hiccup. Hers was caring, loving and always gentle with her.
She remembered the initial rage she had felt towards him when he had refused to give it back. She remembered the fear that had followed her rage as he admitted of wanting to open it. She remembered the embarassament she had felt while desperately begging him not to open the damn thing. She remebered clinging onto him just before he'd open it as a sort of forgiveness method. She remembered starting to cry, which was strange coming from her because she never cried. But in that moment she felt helpless. She felt unable to cope with all of the emotions she was feeling. She was feeling angry because of him not trusting her, afraid at what he was about to read, embarrassed because of what she had put onto paper. She couldn't look. She knew he would feel repulsion towards her the moment he layed eyes on what she had written about him.
He would have never forgiven her.
And that was because he didn't love her. How could he? He would have done something about it by now. She knew he simply saw her as a friend. And she also knew he took it for granted that for her it was the same thing. But it wasn't. It was not like she hated their friendship. She just wanted more. And writing on her diary was her personal way to get it. She would have never thought she would, one day, be that kind of girl that put her thoughts onto paper, but it turned out she was. After a while she discovered it almost felt therapeutic in some strange way. It was the only place she felt safe writing her thoughts in. The ones about him. They'd feel so real when closing her eyes. Being friends with him was cool. She'd always seek some sort of contact that was rarely reciprocated by him. But when it was, her heart always started beating faster without her permission and her stomach always felt like a trumbling mess. She loved hugs. Again, they were rare, but it was as real as it got. It felt right writing those things about him at night, when no one was supposed to be around and when she was completely alone. But deep down she knew it was totally wrong.
He, out of all the people, hadn't been supposed to open her diary. He hadn't been supposed to even know about its existence. Fortunately, at the end, he didn't read it.
He tried to apologize to her but she hadn't let him.
Eventually rage mixed with self-conciousness had prevailed. She told him to leave and he did.
If only that morning would have gone differentely...
She remembered bringing her diary to the kitchen to write something in it. She usually did it in her room, in her bedroom, where she usually felt more comfortable. But that morning had been a peaceful one. Everyone had left. And she just wanted to change location. Her parents had gone fishing, her aunt had left, even Ingrid didn't happen to be around to annoy her. In fact, as she later discovered, she had gone playing with the twins. She knew well those kids. They were always up to something and would have never made a good companionship for her little cousin. Despite always telling her, she never listened. Ever. That morning she remembered seeing Toothless oddly flying from her window. She remembered seeing the little ones instead of Hiccup on top of the black dragon's back.
Seeing that, she knew she had to do something.
She rushed immediately out of her house being careful not to wake Stormfly up but also forgetting to bring her diary back in her bedroom, where she usually kept it in a wooden trunk at the end of her bed. She had forgotten to put it back. She had left it in the kitchen. She couldn't have been more stupid.
The only thing she remembered being in her mind in that exact moment was the need to rushing away and stopping those three before they'd hurt themselves. Putting back her diary didn't even cross her mind. And so she did. She rushed away leaving all of her secrets in full display.
And then, when she let Hiccup in, shortly afterwards, she had completely forgotten about the diary's presence.
And then he had opened it and almost read it.
She still couldn't believe it.
"Astrid dear, dinner's ready. Are you coming?"
It was her mother calling her from downstairs.
Despite not wanting to, she knew she had to.
"Yeah Astrid come downstairs. We're all starving here because of you!"
And this was Ingrid. How lovely. She was sure she hated her but actually didn't know why. Last year she was her favourite cousin. She would have always tried to spend some time with her and copy everything she did, whether it was axe throwing or just literally the way she walked. That was kind of adorable but she never told her when she noticed.
"I'm coming!"She raised herself up from her bed and streched her arms in a sleepy way.
Gods she really should have known better than staying in bed all day.
She saw her diary lying on her desk where she had put it after coming upstairs. She took it and decided to put it back in the trunk.
She reached for the wooden object at the end of the bed and opened it.
She gasped.
An identical one was lying indisturbed in the large container.
She took it with an incredulous expression and carefully opened it.
She saw illustrations. Illustration about nightfuries. And writings. Tons of them. It was Hiccup's hand writing.
Hiccup had been right. He had been right all along. And she had been wrong. The entire time. She hated herself. Now she was actually sure he would have never forgiven her. She remained there for a while, completely still and a little bit unsure on what to do. Then she took a decision.
She put her diary back in the trunk and closed it vigorously.
Then she headed downstairs with the sketchbook still in her hand.
She saw her father sitting at the head of the table, her aunt sitting on his left and Ingrid sitting nearby. She then saw her mother sitting on her father's right and the empty place on her left, the place she should have taken but couldn't take.
"Oh Astrid, here you are. Come and eat something."
Her mother said invitingly stretching an arm towards her direction.
"Mom, dad, I need to go."
"But dear, it's dinner time. Even Ingrid was wating for you to come."
her aunt said in a loving manner.
"I wasn't." She replied.
"Don't listen to her. She doesen't know what she's talking about."
Astrid knew dinner time was important. It was the only time in which families would gather together and discuss about the events of the day.
But that one time she knew she couldn't join them. She had to go.
"I'm sorry, but I really need to go. I promise it won't take long. I'll come before dinner's over."
"And where are you planning on going exactly?"
This time it was her father that spoke, that till that moment had been completely silent. She felt embarrassed to admit it because recently she had really been spending an unhealthy lot amount of time with him. She and Hiccup knew it was normal. They were friends after all.
Her family though, wouldn't have understood their closeness.
Hiccup was still a male, and time-consuming hours together would have led her family to the point of thinking the wrong thing.
Not so long ago in fact, she happened to lie in order to meet him at great hall at night and help him with the transcription of a-
Sketchbook.
She looked at the small object once again and realized she had took it by mistake that night. He had really been right all along.
"Astrid?" Her father was still wating for an answer.
"Umhh.. At Hiccup's. I forgot to give this sketchbook back to him."
He furrowed.
"I think he'll survive without it a little bit longer. You could go after dinner. Now come and sit with us."
She shook her head.
"Please dad, it's important!"
"Dinner time is important as well, Astrid."
"Oh my. You don't really know when to shut up, do you?"
Her mother told her father in seeing what was going on between the two.
"Go dear but be quick, we'll be waiting for you."
She saw her father sighing while putting his elbow onto the table. The moment her mother spoke up he knew he had lost the argument. It usually went like this between them. He didn't like losing, whether it was battles or just simple arguments and Astrid knew it. It was one of her traits as well, she had inherited it from her father after all.
"Thanks mom."
And with that, she left closing the door behind her.
Xx
He was late. His father was probably waiting for him inside of his house ready to eat. He didn't want to hear it. He had flown the entire day in a desperate attempt to find some peace and yet he didn't want to hear his father's concerns. He was fine. He was doing fine. More or less.
Only that he really wasn't.
But only because Astrid wasn't. And that, apart from being his main concern, was also the reason for not doing fine himself, despite wanting to convince himself of the complete opposite. She probably hated him. Maybe tomorrow he would apologize.
He landed and gave Toothless a little back-scratching.
Well, there went nothing. He made a gesture as if wanting to enter but as he was about to go inside he stopped. Well, more precisely, was stopped. By a voice.
"Hiccup."
It couldn't be. Or could it?
He turned around and saw Astrid running towards his way.
"A-Astrid?"
She stopped as she bent on her knees in front of him while panting slightly. She had her sketchbook in her hand.
"Sorry. I saw you from behind and rushed before you'd enter."
Then he saw her raising herself up.
"Here, take it."
He saw as she handed her sketchbook to him. He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Was this some sort of a test?
"What? Astrid, I can't read it. It's your diary, it's full of private stuff."
"It's not mine. It's yours."
"Oh."
It was odd. His sketchbook and her diary were identical.
"I'm sorry. I took it by mistake that night at the great hall as you probably knew. I didn't mean to. Gods I really screwed up, you probably hate me right now."
Was he hearing this right? She thought she screwed up? What?
"Wait, hold on. You didn't screw up anything. And hate you? Wh-Why would I hate you?"
"Because."
She began while turning around not to look at him and crossing her arms.
"I took your work without your permission. I basically stole it."
He had to laugh.
"Stole it? Astrid, you took it by mistake, you said it yourself."
"Yeah, I told you. I'm sorry for that."
He sighed.
"C-Could you maybe turn around, so we can talk face to face?"
He heard her sighing as well. And then he saw her eyes as she turned around. She was scared. Her eyes transpired fear of not being forgiven and remorse for what she had done.
"Listen. Do not feel sorry, okay? If anything I'm the one who should feel that way for yelling at you.
And by the way, Astrid..."
He said as he got closer to take her hand.
"I would never, ever, hate you."
He really did mean it. He would never feel hatred towards her, no matter how complicated things would ever get between them. He'd always love her. He saw her lips curling up in a smile and her gaze going downwards. He'd swear he saw her blushing a bit but at that point he couldn't tell.
"I'd never hate you either."
It was his turn to smile. That moment was perfect. He wished time would stop. She was happy, there with him, and he was too, there with her. He felt the urge to kiss her again but obviously he held himself back. He couldn't do it. They were just friends after all. After a while he let go of her hand.
"Well, you had your right to be mad, you know?"
"No, I hadn't. I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry, for everything. For yelling at you, for assuming you wouldn't give me back my sketchbook and for going through your private stuff. Actually I was the one thinking you hated me."
"How ironic..."
She said while shaking her head and smiling at him.
"Yeah tell me about it."
He saw her looking towards her house direction.
"You need to go?"
She gave him an awkward but yet tender smile.
"Yeah, my family is wating on me."
"Got it."
He saw as she started to go away. He still had his sketchbook in his hand. All of a sudden he got an idea.
"A-Astrid."
She turned around once again. He handed her the sketchbook.
"Keep it. Give it to Ingrid. I-I mean, I'm sure she would appreciate it. At least, until I convince my father to start hers and her friends' training. She would get to learn a little more in the meantime."
Her eyes were beaming.
"You'd really do that?"
"Yeah, I mean, it's where I started so let her do the same."
She took the leathered object from his hands.
And then he tensed up as he felt her hugging him. Hugs were pure torture. He'd always feel her breast pressed to his chest and an erection starting to form. And now was no exeption. He hugged her back, eventually.
"Thank you."
"N-no problem." he awkwardly said.
"I really have to go now. See you tomorrow?"
"Obviously."
He smiled as he saw her leaving. He had done the right thing. He was sure. He entered his house followed by Toothless.
Suddenly,dealing with his father didn't seem to scare him that much anymore.
Xx
END A/N: Oh boy. This took ages to write.
So, I don't really know about the next update. I don't know if I'll be uploading any soon and I don't think you'll get weekly updates. I fear this is just a coincidence. I mean, I'll try but I'm not sure.
Another thing. Believe me when I say that I've tried replying to some of your comments. But I'm a noob. I don't know how it's done. Have you received my answers? Or do I have to answer in the A/N space?
Please let me know. :(
Till next time