Yes, I get what you all want to say but it's all in my plans, jeez, I copied the chapter 1 and changes will be done next. I kinda want to cut things out and because I don't like some clips in the movie, I'm changing it and copied it on it's real one, that's kind of a plan. I'm really sorry to disappoint you guys, but I promise, after I finish this one, I'm really planning to do things on my own. I just want to show you this kind of love story. And yes, it has abuses on it, love on first sight, blah blah blah, but come on, can we just cut the crap out and make things great or something? Why don't we try having Hiccup the dominant one? That kind of bad-ass guy or something? Why is it always Astrid? Astrid-the-not-virgin then meets Hiccup-the-virgin? Hiccup the loser, hiccup that kind of guy, some changes really.

There's I few, I know that, but just for a change or something. Not that I don't like that kind of stories but planning something new can be adventurous sometimes don't they? You can always do the review if you don't like something on it, and I'll be making some changes on the other part. Got it?

So got the 2nd part and I tried.

Part 2

My heart is pounding. The elevator arrives on the first floor, and I scramble out as soon as the doors slide open, stumbling once, but fortunately not sprawling on to the immaculate sandstone floor. I race for the wide glass doors, and I'm free in the bracing, cleansing, damp air of Seattle. Raising my face, I welcome the cool refreshing rain. I close my eyes and take a deep, purifying breath, trying to recover what's left of my equilibrium.

No man has ever affected me the way Henry Haddock has, and I cannot fathom why. Is it his look? His civility? Wealth? Power? I don't understand my irrational reaction. I breathe an enormous sign of relief. What in heaven's name was that all about? Leaning against one of the steel pillars of the building, I valiantly attempt to calm down and gather my thoughts. I shake my head. Holy crap, what was that? My heart steadies to its regular rhythm, and I can breathe normally again. I head for the car.

As I leave the city limits behind, I began to feel foolish and embarrassed as I replay the interview in my mind. Surely, I'm over-reacting to something that's imaginary. Okay, so he's very attractive, confident, commanding, at ease with himself, but on the flip of side, he's arrogant, and for all his impeccable manners, he's autocratic and cold. Well, on the surface. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. He may be arrogant, but then he has a right to be, he's accomplishes so much at such a young age. He doesn't suffer fools gladly, but why should he? Again, I'm irritated that Ruffnut didn't give me a brief biography.

While cruising along the 1-5, my mind continues to wander. I'm truly perplexed as to what makes someone so driven to succeed. Some of his answers were so cryptic, as if he had a hidden agenda. And Ruff's question? ugh! The adaption and asking him if he was gay! I shudder. I can't believe I said that. Ground, swallow me up now! Every time I think of that question in the future, I will cringe with embarrassment. Damn Rachel Thorston!

I check the speedometer. I'm driving more cautiously than I would on any other occasion. And I know it's the memory of two penetrating eyes gazing at me, and a stern voice telling me to drive carefully. Shaking my head, I realize that Haddock's more like a man double his age.

Forget it, Astrid, I scold myself. I decide that all in all, it's been a very interesting experience, but I shouldn't dwell on it. Put it behind you. I never have to see him again. I'm immediately cheered by the thought I switch on the MP3 player and turn the volume up loud, sit back, and listen to thumping indie rock music as I press down on the accelerator. As I hit the 1-5, I realize I can drive as fast as I want.

We live in a small community of duplex apartments in Vancouver, Washington, close to the Vancouver campus of WSU. I'm lucky, Ruff's parents bought the place for her, and I pay peanuts for rent. It's been home for four years now. As I pull up outside, I know Ruff is going to want a blow-to-blow account, and she has the mini-disc.

Hopefully I won't have to elaborate much beyond what was said during the interview. I take a deep breath before entering the apartment.

"Um… before you say anything- "

"You're a goddess, this is perfect." She said, pointing me out then go back to her laptop.

"What?" I slowly take off my a-little-bit-wet jacket, still looking at her.

"I just got his email. He answered every questions." I look around to find that sheet Ruff gave me and, ugh, Gods bless really, it's not here. "So, what was he like?" she added.

"Um…" I shrug then circled the jacket, put it behind the small table and takes a seat to the couch, thinking of things to describe that guy. "He was fine." I answered straightly.

"Fine? ... Just fine?" Ruffnut turn to me and gave me that I-don't-buy that look she has.

"Um, he was really polite, and he was courteous, and very formal and… clean."

"Clean?" she snorts.

I bow my head down and goes back to look at her, what was I thinking?

"I mean; he was very smart." I nod. "And intense. he was kind of intimidating." Well, this is… new. What did I say again? "I can understand the fascination."

"Uh-huh." Then that grin look she has, did I miss the point?

She moves her chair back and forth, like she knows something new.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" She gazes innocently at me, as if she's clueless while grinning, I frown at her, like I want to punch her in the face.

"Okay," I stand up and look at her. "I'm gonna make a sandwich, do you want one?" trying to get out of that kind of conversation.

"No, thanks." Then I walk out, going to the kitchen. "You have to admit, he's ridiculously hot." I heard she said, stating the fact that that kind of guy is.

"I'm sure if you…" I stop a second, putting the ingredients I want to add in my sandwich. "are attracted to that sort of human, then." I try hard to sound disinterested.

"The hot type of human?" Ruff laughs.

"I asked him if he was gay… that was in your questions. Why would you do that to me?" I scowl at the memory.

"Because, whenever he's in the society pages, he's never been photograph by a woman. So, naturally- "

"Well, maybe he just wants to keep his private life private, Ruff."

"And now you're defending him." Ruffnut says her word like a bold word.

"I'm terminating this conversation," I added before licking the mayonnaise that sticks on my thumb.

Ruffnut laughs hysterically then gets up on her chair with her MacBook on her hand. Of course.

"Too bad we don't have some original stills of your hot, clean, 27-year-old billionaire." She then came at my site, putting her laptop in the kitchen table. "The camera loves him almost as much as you do." I glare at her but she then gave me her innocent look. "Ok, I wasn't hungry, but now I am." As she finished her words, she then catches the sight of my sandwich and brings a hand on my food "Thank you," before putting it in her mouth to make sure I won't take it to her. "I love you." She said before getting out of my sight.

I rolled my eyes and slowly walk a few step forward. And it caught my eyes, Ruff's MacBook, who still is on her google sight, in the view was Mr. Haddock. I sit on the chair and look behind if Ruffnut's there, but good thing is, she isn't. I turn around again and look at the picture Mr. Haddock has. That hot but arrogant man.

For the rest of the week, I throw myself into my studies and my job at Clayton's. Ruff is busy too, compiling her last edition of her student magazine before she has to relinquish it to the new editor while also cramming for her finals. By Wednesday, she's much better, and I no longer have to endure the sight of her pink-flannel-with-too-many-rabbits PJs.

"Astrid!" I was about to put my keys on Storm, my VW Beetle car when Thuggory called, coming to me.

"Thugs!" I smile at him widely. Thuggory is the first person I met when I arrive at BTU, looking as lost and lonely as I did. We recognized a kindred spirit in each of us that day, and we've been friends ever since. Not only do we share a sense of humor, but we discovered that both my 2nd father, Finn and his dad, Mogadon were in the same army unit together. As a result, our fathers have become firm friends too.

Thuggory is studying engineering and is the first in his family to make it on college. He's pretty damn bright, but his real passion is photography. Thuggory has a great eye for a good picture.

"Guess what?" he grins, his dark eyes twinkling, showing his white teeth and dimples ahead.

"What?" I ask.

"Portland Place is going to exhibit my photographs next month."

"Oh my gods!" Delighted to him, I hug him. "Congratulation. That's so good!"

"Yeah." He grins at me then wraps himself with his two hands.

Thuggory and I are good friends, but I know deep inside, he'd like to be more. He's good. Funny but he's just not for me. He's more like the brother I never had. Rachel, Ruffnut often teases me that I'm missing the need-a-boyfriend gene, but the truth is, I just haven't met anyone who… well, whom I'm attracted to, even though part of me longs for those trembling knees, heart-in-my-mouth, butterflies-in-my-belly, sleepless night.

"Can we celebrate later because I'm really late for work?" I then tried open the door on my car.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You got it, you got it."

"But um…"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," he tried to put away my left hand on the car door and open it himself for me.

"Thank you," I said and smiles at him. 'You're my hero." I said before going inside Storm.

"See you later."

"Okay," And he closes it.

Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me. Perhaps I've spent too long in the company of my literary romantic heroes, and consequently my ideals and expectations are far too high. But in reality, nobody's ever made me feel like that.

Until very recently, the unwelcome, still small voice of my subconscious whispers. NO! I banish the thought immediately. I am not going there, not after that painful interview. 'Are you gay, Mr. Haddock?' I wince at the memory. I know I've dreamt about him most nights since then, but that's just to purge the awful experience from my system, surely?

I watch Thuggory waves at me. He's tall, and in his jeans and t-shirt he's all shoulder and muscles, tanned skin, dark hair and burning dark eyes. Yes, Thuggory's pretty hot, but I think he's finally getting the message: we're just friends.

Friday afternoon at the store is a nightmare. We are besieged by do-it-yourselfers wanting to spruce up their homes. Mr. and Mrs. Clayton, John and Paul, the other part-timers and I are all rushed off our feet. But there's a lull around lunchtime, and Mrs. Clayton asks me to check on some orders while I'm sitting behind the counter at the till discreetly eating bagel. I'm engrossed in the task, checking catalogue numbers against the items we need and the items we've ordered, eyes flicking from the order book to the computer screen and back as I check the entries match. I buzz came at my pocket, I get my phone and look at the screen. As a name 'Mom' pops out on it, I click the call button and put my phone on my ear.

"Mom I'm at work, can I call you back?" I keep the phone on my ear while fixing the new items on its place.

"No, no, wait, wait, I call for reason… Bob broke his foot playing golf,"

"Gods, is he okay? Is he on pain?" I tried

"I guess… Well it means though, we won't able to fly for your graduation"

"Really? I mean- You don't just come alone; you don't have to bring Bob," I gives her an option. Is it wrong to want her here? Even just in my graduation.

"You do understand, don't you darling?" I don't have a word to say anything at all, but really, I can't help to be a little bit mad at her.

"Yeah, ah, yeah, it's fine. Um, I really have to go, ok?" I said, trying to get out of the conversation, not to cry, I guess.

"I love you, Astrid." I close my eyes; her precious words give me a warm glow inside.

"I know; I love you too." I said before ending the call. "Gods." I said in frustration.

"Astrid, could you handle back?" Paul said, came out of nowhere. Paul is Mr. Clayton's youngest brother. Paul has always been a buddy, best of one.

"Ah, yeah, yeah, I'll be right there." I put the last item on its place before walking out going to the back. I look at the front… and find myself locked in the bold green gaze of Henry Haddock who's standing at the counter, staring at me intently.

Heart failure.

"I thought it was you,"

"What the- "

"What a pleasant surprise, Miss Hofferson." His gaze is unwavering and intense.

Holy crap. What the hell is he doing here looking all tousled-hair and outdoorsy in his cream chunky-knit sweater, jeans and walking boots? I think my mouth has popped open, and I can't locate my brain or my voice.

"Mr. Haddock." I whisper, because that's all I can manage.

There's a ghost of a smile on his lips and his eyes are alight with humor, as if he's enjoying some private joke.

"I was in the area," he says by way of explaining. "I need to stock up on a few things. It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Hofferson." His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel… or something.

I shake my head to gather my wits. My heart is pounding a frantic tattoo, and for some reason I'm blushing furiously under his steady scrutiny. I am utterly thrown by the sight of him standing before me. My memories of him did not do him justice. He's not merely good-looking, he's the epitome of male beauty, breathtaking, and he's here. Here in Clayton's Hardware Store. Go figure. Finally, my cognitive functions are restored and reconnected with the rest of my body.

"Astrid, just Astrid." I mutter. "What can I help you with, Mr. Haddock?"

He smiles, and again it's like he's privy to some big secret. It is so disconcerting. Taking a deep breath, I put on my professional I've-worked-in-this-shop-for-years façade. I can do this.

"There are a few items I need. To start with, I'd like some cable ties," he murmurs, his green eyes cool but amused.

Cable ties?

"We stock various lengths. Shall I show you?" I mutter, my voice soft and wavery. Get a grip, Hofferson. A slight frown mars Haddock's rather lovely brow.

"Please, lead the way, Miss Hofferson," he says. I try for nonchalance as I come out from behind the counter, but really I'm concentrating hard on not falling over my own feet, my legs are suddenly the consistency of Jell-O. I'm so glad I decided to wear my best jeans this morning.

"Astrid, just Astrid…They're in with the electrical gods, aisle eight." My voice is a little too bright. I glance up at him and regret it almost immediately. Damn, he's handsome. I blush.

"After you," he murmurs, gesturing with his long-fingered, beautifully manicured hand.

With my heart almost strangling me, because it's in my throat trying to escape from my mouth, I head down one of the aisle to the electrical section. Why is he on Portland? Why is he here at Clayton's? And from a very tiny, underused part of my brain, probably located at the base of my medulla oblongata where my subconscious dwells, comes the thought: he's here to see you. No way! I dismiss it immediately. Why would this beautiful, powerful, urbane man want to see me? The idea is preposterous and I kick it out of my head.

"Are you in Portland business?" I ask, and my voice is too high, like I've got my finger trapped in a door or something. Damn! Try to be cool Astrid!

"I was visiting the BTU farming division. I'm currently funding some research there in crop rotation and soil science," he says matter-of-factly. See? Not here to find you at all, my subconscious sneers at me, loud, proud, and pouty. I flush at my foolish wayward thoughts.

"All part of you feed-the-world plan?" I tease.

"Something like that," he acknowledges, and his lips quirk up in a half smile.

He gazes at the selection of cable ties we stock at Clayton's. What on Earth is he going to do with those? I cannot picture him as a do-it-yourselfer at all. His fingers trail across the various packages displayed, and for some inexplicable reason, I have to look away. He bends and select a packet.

"These will do," he says with his oh-so-sweet smile, and I blush.

"Is there anything else?"

"I'd like some masking tape."

Masking tape?

"Are you redecorating?" the words are out before I can stop them. Surely he hires laborers or has staff to help him decorate?

"No, not redecorating," he says quickly then smirks, and I have the uncanny feeling that he's laughing at me.

Am I that funny? Funny looking?

"This way," I murmur embarrassed. "Masking tape is in the decorating aisle."

I glance behind me as he follows.

"Have you worked here long?" his voice is low, and he's gazing at me, green eyes concentrating hard. I blush even more brightly. Why the hell does he have this effect on me? I feel like I'm fourteen years old, gauche, as always, and out of place. Eyes front Hofferson!

"Four years," I mutter as we reach our goal. To distract myself, I reach down and select the two widths of masking tape that we stock.

"I'll take that one," Haddock says softly pointing to the wider tape, which I pass to him. Our fingers brush very briefly, and the current is there again, zapping involuntarily as I feel it, all the way down to somewhere dark and unexplored, deep in my belly. Desperately, I scrabble around for my equilibrium.

"Anything else?" My voice is husky and breathy. His eyes widen slightly.

"Some rope, I think." His voice mirrors mine, husky.

"This way." I duck my head down to hide my recurring blush and head for the aisle. "What sort were you after? We have synthetic and natural filament rope… twine… cable cord…" I halt at his expression, his eyes darkening. Holy cow.

"I'll take five yards of the natural filament rope please."

Quickly, with trembling fingers, I measure out five yards against the fixed ruler, aware that his hot gaze is on me. I dare not to look at him. Jeez, could I feel any more self-conscious? Taking my Stanley knife from the back pocket of my jeans, I cut it then coil it neatly before tying it in a slipknot. By some miracle, I manage not to remove a finger with my knife.

"That's impressive, were you a Girl Scout?" he asks, sculptured, sensual lips curled in amusement. Don't look at his mouth!

"Organized, group activities aren't really my thing,"

He arches a brow.

"So what is your thing?" he asks, his voice soft and his secret smile is back. I gaze at him unable to express myself. I'm on shifting tectonic plates. Try and be cool, Astrid, my tortured subconscious begs on bended knee.

"Um, I don't know, books," I whisper, but inside, my subconscious is screaming: You! You are my thing! I slap it down instantly, mortified that my psyche is having ideas above its station. "Ok, rope, tape, cable ties, you're the complete serial killer." Like really, can my mouth shuts up even for a second?

"Not today." He cocks his head.

"Anything else you need?" I ask, changing the subject.

"What else would you recommend?"

What would I recommend? I don't even know what you're doing.

"For a do-it-yourselfer?"

He nods, gray eyes alive with wicked humor. I flush, and my eyes stray of their own accord to his snug jeans.

"Maybe coverall," I reply, and I know I'm no longer screening what's coming out of my mouth.

He raises an eyebrow, amused, yet again.

"So you could protect your clothes," I gesture vaguely in the direction of his jeans.

"I could just take all my clothes off." He smirks.

"Ok, no clothes, I mean, no coverall." I feel the color in my cheeks rising again. I must be the color of the communist manifesto. Stop talking. Stop talking NOW! "I can't think of anything else,"

"Well I guess is it then,"

"Good."

I ring up the rope, masking tape, and cable ties at the tills.

"Thank you for answering Ruff's questions, by the way,"

"I hope she's feeling good,"

"She is, yeah, she's just having a hard time declaring a photo of you, yeah." I feel like I've come up for air at last, a normal topic conversation.

Haddock raises an eyebrow.

"If she likes an original, I'm around tomorrow," He trails off.

"You'll be willing to do that?" My voice is squeaky again. Ruffnut will be in seventh heaven if I can pull this off. And you might see him again tomorrow, that dark place at the base of my brain whispers seductively at me. I dismiss the thought of all the silly, ridiculous…

Well I'm very pleased, I smile at him broadly. His lips part, like he's taking a sharp intake of breath, and he blinks. For a fraction of a second, he looks lost somehow, and the Earth shift slightly on its axis, the tectonic plates sliding into a new position.

"Astrid, should I help you out?" I look at my back and saw Paul, who came out of nowhere, He then grins as he examines me at arm's length. Really, I should punch him in the face but it's awful to think and also, he's a buddy.

"Ah, no- no, no, I'm good… Thanks." When I glance up at Henry Haddock, he's watching us like a hawk, his green eyes hooded and speculative, his mouth hard impassive line. He's changed from the weirdly attentive customer to someone else, someone cold and distance.

"Ok." Paul then releases me but keeps a possessive arm draped over my shoulder. I shuffle from foot to foot, embarrassed, then he left.

I saw Mr. Haddock putting a business card in front of me. Written there was the Haddock's company, his name down on it, 'Henry Horrendous Haddock III', and his contact number.

"Call me what time tomorrow," he said, I look at him, asking what-is-it in a look. "About the photos."

"Oh yeah," Then I get the business card and put it in my pocket. "I will."

He didn't say anything but look at me then strides with renewed purpose out of the store, slinging the plastic bag over his shoulder, leaving me a quivering mass of raging female hormones. I spend several minutes staring at the closed door through which he's just left before I return to planet Earth.

So again, I didn't read it carefully so maybe there would be wrongs again, I really hope we can work these things up and for the second time, it won't always be in the book, I have changes on it, lesser the abuse and try to make thing not so bad as you all thought.