It's day one of Hiccstrid Week! Today's prompt was 'make or break.' A thank you to my beta, AnakinMousestalker for reading through this so many times.
Astrid considered herself a smart girl. Sure, her emotional intelligence was a little stunted sometimes, but she had gotten far more attuned to it over the years.
She knew anger, burning hot, like a fire. Sometimes it had died out entirely and needed a careful spark and then persistent fanning to make her burst out into flame, or sometimes she had those days where her anger had only died down into embers ready to explode at the slightest breath. She knew how to calm it too. Sometimes she could pull herself sternly out of her anger and douse that fire with a healthy bucket of cold water, or sometimes she slowly dismantled the kindling with deep breaths until the flames had no more material to burn through, and extinguished itself quietly.
She knew pride, like blowing up a balloon. It was airy and stretched bigger and bigger with self importance until one popped, and she had learned not to breathe too much air into that proud balloon, and when to let it deflate a bit so she didn't break.
She was also acquainted with sadness and shame, respectively. Sadness wasn't just blue like so many people liked to describe, but rather blurry and blotched, like a fogged up mirror that distorted one's view of their life, covered in water droplets that broke the clear lines until everything was hard to see. It was like the humid bathroom after a warm shower when she had forgotten to open the window, oppressive, tainted water in the air clinging to bare skin.
Shame was a heavy rock that pulled on her straight posture until she bowed her head, her eyelids scratchy and burdensome, begging to close and escape the mistake she had made. It made everything hard to swallow. It scraped against her eyeballs and made her eyes want to water against her will. It was the weight tied inside her stomach, frozen limbs that refused to obey her, scorching scrutiny from the world around her.
They weren't all comfortable emotions, but they were all necessary, and Astrid had learned not to shut them out over the years. It was okay to feel all this things and move on, and she had gotten to a place where she could often recognize them in others. Everyone reacted differently, and the fun part was guessing how to describe each experience in their eyes.
The emotion that continued to elude her was love. Some said it was fluttery, full of nerves and stuttering. Others said it was only love with the bright passion smeared into every aspect. It was crazy, and different, and unique, and Astrid just wished there was a set of symptoms that she could check off before deciding, yep, she was in love, but no. In her case, it snuck up on her because the symptoms were so subtle they were practically nonexistent.
The slow kind of love was rarely talked about. And to tell the truth, maybe one of the reasons she had such a hard time identifying it was because she didn't want to become a lovestruck fool. Did people think it was lackluster, that moment when you looked at the person you had known your whole life and suddenly this whole extra feeling was unveiled and they were so different but you didn't realize because truly, nothing had changed about them?
Well, that was the best kind of love, if you asked Astrid. It wasn't messy, it wasn't stupid, it was simple, and most of all, it was right.
All she had to do was, well, realize she was in love and then do something about it.
Astrid felt miserable. It was one of those days she found herself craving company, but the house was empty and with the rain pouring outside, it was doubtful anyone would stop by and she didn't feel like showing up to someone's house in a soppy mood and soaking wet.
She sighed heavily and dragged the blanket off her bed to the couch so she could snuggle with it while she aimlessly flipped through Netflix, but none of the content stood out to her. She was dragged out of her lethargy by a knock at the door and the doorbell ringing. Usually that combination annoyed her like nothing else, but there was only one person who was brave and stupid enough to risk their life like that, so she almost ran to the door in her hurry to answer it.
"Hiccup - You - what are you doing here?" Astrid asked incredulously. She stood behind the white door of the townhouse. Her best friend was standing right outside, rain running down his soaked mop of auburn tinted brown hair, emerald eyes peeking behind the thick wet mess on his head. Droplets ran off and dripped down the plastic bag he held in both hands.
"You're too proud to admit it, but you miss Heather so I brought snacks and we can watch whatever chick flicks and talk about whatever weird things you girls say when we aren't around," he told her.
Astrid bit her lip. He really was the most - unbelievable - sappy, best person in the world. Truth be told, she had been missing her roommate Heather, who was visiting her brother a couple towns away. They were close, Heather and her. Heather was her best girl friend, but this - this was why Hiccup was her number one.
"What makes you think we watch chick flicks?" she scoffed. "We do vigorous cardio and then do facial masks and perm our hair with hot pink bows." Hiccup groaned.
"Oh, God, you know how much I hate cardio, but the perming certainly explains how your hair is always so curly," he nodded sardonically at Astrid's straight hair pulled back into a slept-on braid. "But I brought ice cream anyway and Fishlegs gave me a whole watchlist with the top thirty movies watched by women from seventeen to thirty three or something."
Astrid laughed and stepped back. "Is the ice cream butter pecan?"
"Yes, with a smaller pint of strawberry because I know you love that too," he winked. "Besides, it's your favorite color, pink!" Astrid rolled her eyes. Her favorite color to wear was blue, but she had more than one color she appreciated. Red looked best when Hiccup wore it, and her favorite color in nature was the bright green of freshly rained on ferns that reminded her of her friend's eyes. Hiccup knew all of that, except for the reasoning behind the third one.
"Sweet! You've already got the blanket out," he commented when he walked into the living room. "Lemme just put the strawberry in the freezer and grab some spoons. Do you know what you want to watch?"
"Hmm, nah. How about something off of Fishlegs' watchlist?"
Hiccup's face fell. "You - you really want to watch one of those movies?" he asked.
"What? Do you not have the watchlist?"
"No, no, I have it, I just . . . didn't think you'd actually be interested in it."
"Too bad," Astrid snorted. Hiccup groaned.
"First you make me sit through all those horror movies, and now a new kind of torture? You're killing me, Astrid!"
"You love it," she shot back. She opened his phone and navigated to Fishlegs' most recent message. Hiccup re-entered the room with the liter of ice cream and two spoons.
"Have you decided yet?" he asked.
"Mmm, whichever one of these is on Netflix," Astrid said disinterestedly.
"Kay," he shrugged, setting the ice cream on the low table in front of them and wrapping her warm fluffy blanket around their shoulders. She settled on the couch, leaning on Hiccup as he tucked one end of the blanket around her. She shifted around until she was comfortable, nearly half in his lap. He held the cold box of ice cream so she wouldn't get cold and they began the movie. At first, Hiccup couldn't stop picking apart every little detail and acting overall disgusted until they were about a third of the way through and he quieted as he connected with the character and got hilariously invested in the story. Astrid lay her head on his shoulder and refused to let him get up to get the strawberry ice cream. This was nicer, lying here on the couch with him. She drifted off to sleep with the comforting warmth of his arms around her.
"So, when are you going to admit you're in love yet?" Heather asked unimpressed, laying on her stomach on her bed.
"W-what? It's - I'm not in - Heather! I've been talking about my day today. I haven't seen Hiccup since yesterday . . . how did you come to the conclusion I'm in love with him?! We're just friends."
Heather groaned. "I'm getting sick of you saying that. And you know how I know that you're in love with him? Almost everything you've said about your day today was how some insignificant thing reminded you of Hiccup, or how no one else is as competent as Hiccup, or how Hiccup would have laughed at that joke. It hasn't been twenty four hours since you two said good night and you. Can't. Stop. Talking about him. That's how gone you are."
"That is not a logical conclusion," Astrid sputtered.
"I beg to differ. He's all you talk about, and you haven't realized how relaxed you've gotten over the years, Astrid, but I have."
"It's called growth and emotional maturity, Heather," Astrid rolled her eyes. "I am capable of such things."
"But you're not acting emotionally mature, you're acting like a lovestruck girl."
"Am not!"
"Astrid, you don't want to do this," Heather warned. "I'm going to win this discussion no matter how long you argue."
"Fine," Astrid huffed. "I won't take it up with you because it'd be a waste of time and I have more important things to do today." She stuck her nose in the air and went to leave Heather's bedroom.
"You don't want to be late for your date," Heather rolled her eyes. Astrid stopped at the doorway and cocked her hip.
"It's not a date, Heather. It has never been a date. We have had dinner on Sundays together for years, and it doesn't mean anything other than we're really good friends."
"If it's just a thing between friends, how come we don't go out to eat like that as often as you two?"
"We live together, Heather. There's only so much I can put up with you," Astrid shot teasingly.
"When are you two going to admit you're in love!" Heather cried, throwing herself dramatically on her bed..
"Relationships have made you sappy," Astrid pointed at her. "Um, and can I borrow your nice bra?" Heather raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"Why would you need it? That bra's for, like, dates. If it's just Hiccup, what's the point?"
"Sunday best."
"You guys aren't Christian."
"Please, Heather! I wore my nice bra yesterday when he picked me up for dinner, I can't wear the same one twice!"
"Does he notice your bras?"
"No, but I do." Heather sighed.
"Fine! But you have to say yes next time I want to wear those sexy boots of yours. And I get first priority even if you were going to wear them!"
"Fine," Astrid agreed quickly. "Thanks, Heather, you're the best!"
"And you're living in delusion," her friend shook her head.
The gang wasn't able to gather all of them at once as often, jobs and studies making them lucky to all gather together once a month, but they easily slid into their banter as effortlessly as if it hadn't been over a day. Fishlegs was talking animatedly about the young kids he was teaching and his idea to have a historical cosplay competition. Tuffnut immediately volunteered to help with the costumes and Astrid shook her head to hide her laughter as Fishlegs scrambled for a tactful way to let him down. Her eyes drifted over to Hiccup, who was listening to an avid Snotlout describe something, nodding in encouragement for the stocky young man to go on.
He was looking extra good today. Astrid knew her friend was a handsome man, but today he seemed to be practically glowing with color, like when you watch a favorite movie of yours in 4K instead of HD for the first time. His lightweight sweater was green and clung lightly to his torso as he waved his arms around expressively. His sleeves had been shoved to his elbow and she followed his arm down to the nimble fingers combing absently through his fluffy hair. She had been in his bathroom many times, and had never discovered whatever magic products he used to make that hair so voluminous and fluffy. Her eyes slid over his face. His forehead occasionally scrunching in concentration, those thick eyebrows drawing together in concern . . .
". . .strid. Astrid, hey," he said and she realized he was talking to her. She shook herself slightly.
"Sorry, what?" she asked hurriedly.
"Are you okay?" He rested a hand on her shoulder in concern.
"I'm fine," she shrugged but didn't move his hand. "Just, spaced out, you know?"
"How much water have you had today?" he pressed. She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.
"Really? How much water have you had today, huh? This week?" He waved off her accusation.
"I'll get you a glass-"
"I don't need one, I'm fine. You should be the one drinking more-"
"Okay! Okay, how about this," he raised his hands in surrender and a dim part of her missed the presence of his hand on her shoulder. "I'll drink some water if you will, deal?"
"I can accept that," she smiled smugly at him. He didn't break eye contact with her and she wasn't going to be the first to look away so they stayed that way for a few beats. Then:
Fishlegs cleared his throat apologetically and Astrid willed herself not to jump in surprise. She had forgotten their friends were there. She quickly looked anywhere but Hiccup, who had grabbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Heather was smirking wider than the Cheshire cat.
"I'm just - gonna go get those - Does anyone else want a water?" he asked. The twins and Snotlout responded affirmative and he practically ran from the group.
"Not a word," Astrid snapped as Heather sidled up beside her.
"A word about what?" she asked with faux innocence.
"Whatever," Astrid mumbled.
She found him with his head in his hands. Her greeting died in her throat and she set down her bags.
"Hey," she made her way over to him and sat softly on the couch.
"Hey," he returned weakly.
"What's up?" she asked gently. He sighed and dropped his hands from his head.
"Nothing," he said sourly. "Everything's peachy."
"I can see that," Astrid said, raising a sardonic eyebrow. Hiccup huffed in irritation. "Was it your dad again?" she guessed.
"Yes," Hiccup muttered.
"Oh no, what happened now?" she smiled.
"Oh, you - you're gonna love this: I wake up, the sun is shining, Toothless is still sleeping. I saunter down to make myself some coffee, thinking all it right with the world, and the phone rings."
Astrid placed a dramatic hand over her chest. "Before you had had your coffee?" she exclaimed in a mock scandal. Sometimes, she'd learned, the best way to cheer Hiccup up was to make light of the situation. The trick was knowing when he needed some lighthearted irreverence or some sense kicked into him. This case was the former.
"Yeah," Hiccup nodded at her. "And he's all, 'Son, we need to talk,'" he mimicked his father's brogue accent.
"Not now, Dad, I've got my daily dose of disgusting caffeine to drink first," Astrid said in a nasally impression of Hiccup's voice. His jaw dropped in outrage.
"I - Hey! I don't sound like that," he protested.
"Yes, you do," she laughed.
He pouted. "I don't," he insisted, but his mouth twitched upward. Astrid's eyebrows were practically off her forehead.
"And I need caffeine to function," he continued to argue, knowing that he'd lose the argument about her impression of him. "I'm not some freaky health person who wakes up all bright eyed and bushy-tailed to work out first thing in the morning!"
"Hmm, you should though," Astrid said. "You wouldn't need caffeine if you just had exercise and protein shakes." Hiccup shuddered dramatically.
"Ugh, don't even," he said. Astrid launched into a detailed rant about the benefits of an exercise oriented lifestyle and Hiccup groaned and whined, his former mood forgotten.
Astrid Hofferson wasn't in love, but she did love her best friend. They were walking down the street after dinner because Astrid had insisted the stars look particularly bright tonight. They didn't say anything, just enjoyed each other's company as she danced under the streetlights and Hiccup watched her fondly.
She blamed it on the dress. She didn't wear them everyday, preferring the shirts and skirts she found more durable, but dresses were fun to dress up in. She had been dragged on another shopping spree with Ruffnut - she had no idea where Ruffnut got all that money to spend every time she went shopping, which was at least once a week - when a beautiful blue dress caught her eye. It was classy, with an elegant bodice that swept into a tapered skirt. It didn't cling to her hips and thighs the way most dresses that Ruffnut or Heather wore, but rather flared out and made her want to spin. The vee neckline almost went off her shoulders, and the color seemed a mix of robin-egg-blue and periwinkle. It reminded her a bit of Cinderella.
She kind of felt like a princess dressing up in a ballgown. Hiccup had taken her to a fancy restaurant, La Edge, and though it wasn't her first time there, the experience had seemed especially magical. The black dressed host had escorted them to a beautiful draped table, the golden accents were subtle and fancy, but not garish, and the food was delectable.
Hiccup didn't only take her to fancy places. On the many occasions where a quick brunch had found them still out in the evening, they often stopped at a quick pizza place or ordered takeout. They would then race as they tried to get home before them. But on Sundays, they always went to a fancy place for dinner; it was the unsaid rule.
And the reason they dressed up was because they could. It was a totally platonic pastime that didn't mean anything but Astrid wouldn't deny she enjoyed the benefits of seeing Hiccup in a tuxedo.
Somehow she'd wound up with her hand in his, and Hiccup suddenly twirled her as they passed under the streetlight. She giggled, caught off guard, feeling for all the world like she was a princess dancing in a spotlight.
"I've been wanting to do that all night," Hiccup admitted as she caught her breath. "That dress is beautiful - A-and so are you."
"Thank you," she blushed. "I, you know, I just saw it, and I knew I had to buy it. I feel like a princess," she admitted. She would have never told anyone else that, but Hiccup, she knew, would understand her, support her, respect her no matter if she felt like a princess or a warrior at any given moment.
"You look like one, too, Milady," he told her, bowing at the waist and kissing her hand. As he straightened, Astrid's head tilted up at an angle to perfectly match his, if he just leaned down-
She wanted to kiss him.
She wanted him to kiss her. Because maybe, despite all her disdain for unrealistic soap operas, she wanted a handsome man to declare his undying love for her with eloquent words.
The moment hung suspended in time. She could see her wish reflected in his eyes, but neither of them made a move. Come on, she found herself pleading silently, Make a move.
He pulled away slightly, blinking and breaking the spell.
"Good night, Astrid," he told her, nodding at her car parked a few feet away.
"What? Oh, yeah, goodnight," she replied, confused and let down. She wanted to grab him and shake him and demand he tell her what had just happened. He gave her a quick smile and turned around to leave. She fumbled through her purse for her keys and got the car door open.
And if she just sat in her seat for five minutes before remembering to start the car, well, no one had to know.
So maybe she was in love. It wasn't a big deal! It happened, and there was nothing wrong with that. She went quietly to her room as she arrived home, throwing herself on the bed, her dress splayed out on the sheets. Strange, how suddenly the thought about kissing him had come, and yet how essential it had seemed. Was Heather truly right? Was she actually in love with Hiccup? Had she been in love with him this whole time?
She lay languidly upon her bed that night, but barely slept. What would it mean, loving him? Would anything change, really? What should she do? She wasn't sure, but made no effort to cancel their plans when they met up again on Monday. If she avoided Hiccup, she knew he would get worried and check up on her and pry what was wrong with her. If she wanted to keep thinking, she'd have to act like nothing had happened.
Nothing big had happened, truly, she reasoned. There was no cause for awkwardness; she and Hiccup were well past that stage in their friendship - and whatever else they might evolve into.
"Hey!" she greeted him eagerly. Hiccup's head snapped up and his face broke into a smile. She hugged him quickly and he handed her her sandwich. "Mmm, thanks," she sighed as she bit into the delicious turkey spread. I love you, she thought. He launched into an account of his day and she hummed at all the right places, the moment they'd had the night before unmentioned. She watched him, all of him. The way he waved his arms, the self conscious way he'd cut himself off as Astrid exclaimed and begged him to go on with the story. The gap between his two front teeth, the way his hair was falling into his face today. She watched his fingers tap against his cup, the bouncing of his leg as he talked. And with every breath he took, she thought, I love you, I love you, I love you. She watched the way he looked at her, too. She noticed how his eyes followed her movement, how his smile widened when he thought she wasn't always looking, how his body seemed to gravitate toward her unconsciously. He loved her too, she realized. She just didn't know if he knew it yet. She couldn't wait for him to figure it out.
Yeah, she was in love. She checked her phone and went back to work, hugging him one last time. Work was slow, which was a good thing because she rested her chin on her fist and thought long and hard about a certain someone she was in love with.
"I knew it!" Heather crowed when Astrid told her. "Oh, finally!" she cackled evilly. "What are you going to do about it?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Wait," Astrid said. Heather's face dropped.
"Wait?" she cried in outrage. "Why? Wait for what?!"
"I-"
"If this is because you don't think he feels the same way, so help me Thor-"
"No!" Astrid laughed, "No, I, I know he loves me back, I just don't know if he knows yet." Heather sagged.
"Why couldn't you just tell him?" her friend demanded. Astrid shrugged and tried to hide her smile.
"I want him to have his 'oh' moment," she admitted. Heather shook her head.
"You are the stupidest, sappiest -"
"Heather," Astrid interrupted sharply. "I'm not going to make this into a whole thing, okay? Look, I -" she let out a disbelieving laugh. "I really love him. And I know he loves me too, even if he doesn't know right now. But I don't want to cause any drama, alright? One of the reasons we're such good friends is because we're drama free. I don't want to put pressure on him, and I'm happy to wait for him to push things forward. We have all the time in the world." She was fine with taking things slow and just letting pieces fall into place.
She was holding herself back, but it took her a while to realize it. She just wanted things to fall into place naturally, but then she'd find a perfect moment to confess her feelings or pull him into a kiss and she'd just let it pass. And with each failure to move things along on her part, she grew more annoyed at him for not being the one to initiate their transition into a romantic relationship.
"Not that this isn't adorably domestic, but what are you doing?" Hiccup asked as he walked into the kitchen. Astrid turned around and smiled at him.
"Hey," she greeted him. "I didn't know you were staying late."
"Sorry," he apologized. "I uh, I didn't know you were coming over." She shrugged.
"Heather went out with Eret and there wasn't any food in the fridge, so I figure I'd stop by and steal your food, but you weren't here," she gestured around the kitchen, knife still in hand and Hiccup cringed. "So I figured I'd just whip something up so you could come home to a nice meal instead of making yourself a cup o' noodles like I know you do when you're feeling lazy," she finished.
"You didn't have to," Hiccup protested.
"Ah-ah-ah," Astrid waggled the knife in her hand like it was her finger. "I have to make sure you eat, mister." Hiccup ducked under her arm and grabbed her wrist gently, stilling the knife.
"Astrid, you know I love you, but you really can't cook," he told her softly. Astrid's breath caught in her throat. He had said it. The "L" word. He had said it in this context before, but this time Astrid was truly listening. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, unaware of the pooling heat coursing through his best friend, and eased the knife out of her lax fingers. "Let me do the cooking," he murmured into her ear. Astrid had to fight not to shiver.
"Fine," she relented, her voice a little breathier than usual. "I've fulfilled my purpose of making sure you'll eat a proper meal tonight."
"Thank you," he acknowledged, his face oh so close to hers. "If you stay after dinner I'll allow you to do the dishes."
"Aw," she pouted. He laughed and nudged her with his hip, and Astrid was tempted to grab the back of his neck and just pull his lips down to crash into hers. But, there was a knife in his hands, and if she just kissed him out of the blue like that he'd probably cut one of them.
I'm gonna marry this guy, she thought in daze. It was going on her bucket list, right now. Marry Hiccup Haddock, with a box to be checked. She poked him in the stomach and retreated as he yelped to set the folding table with his mismatched dishes (they added character, apparently).
He finished the simple spaghetti, whipping up a quick sauce with sauteed vegetables and parmesan, and she helped herself eagerly, casting glances at him as he ate, her heart beating twice as fast in her chest as she imagined this scene years into the future.
The gang had always insisted she and Hiccup could practically talk with their eyes. She never really thought so, she just knew him well enough to recognize his thought process or the emotions on his face that he was so good at concealing sometimes. When their eyes met, they didn't have any crazy telepathic ability, just familiarity with every twitch in each other's expression. He knew her left eyebrow twitched right before she lost her temper, and that was when he'd put that restraining hand on her arm to calm her down. She could tell by the way his smile faded whenever he was thinking of an innovative idea, if he was uncomfortable with the attention, or if he was disassociating or feeling left out. That was when she'd hook her arm through his and give him a blinding smile and ease him back into the crowd, or leave.
As their eyes met over the table, she tried sending him a message. I love you, she thought with all her might. He smiled in response, and she huffed. He must have thought she meant platonically or something. I'm in love with you, she tried when he caught her gaze again.
She washed the dishes unprompted as they finished their food, Hiccup packing up the food in containers so she could take it home with her. But as she dried her hands, she found herself hesitating to leave. She looked up at him pleadingly as he handed her the container.
"You want to stay?" he asked immediately. She nodded gratefully, happy she hadn't had to ask. "I wanted to sleep on the couch anyway," he joked. She swatted his chest and left to his bedroom to rummage for a loose shirt of his to sleep in.
"Want to watch a movie?" he asked as she exited in a loose Archipelago University T-shirt.
"Sure," she agreed amicably.
She let him pick the movie that night, more focused on cuddling into his side. He waved the remote around like a wand before settling on Narnia, the dork.
"Aww, I forgot the popcorn and ice cream," he sagged. Astrid tightened the arm around his waist in protest.
"Don't," she insisted. "Don't wanna get up." He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her hair.
It was stupid, she decided, waiting for him to confess his love to her. He loved her, and he showed it in every interaction. He could be waiting on her, for Thor's sake. There wasn't any reason to hold back, not now that she was craving the kisses and romantic intimacy, not now she already wanted to properly make him family.
Astrid lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him. He tore his eyes from the screen to look at her inquisitively, probably preparing to get up and make her something to munch on.
"I love you," she blurted out loud before she could stop herself. She had said that line before; they had had this moment a million times already, but for a split second something passed between them, its presence almost forgettable if it wasn't life changing.
Hiccup stared at her for a second, his mouth parting slightly in surprise. "I love you too," he responded. Astrid's smile widened and Hiccup's eyes grew softer, and somehow, they knew. They had loved each other for years. As friends, and more than that, although it had taken them a while to realize that it wasn't just the development of their friendship they were feeling. Heather was right, they had kind of been dating for the past few years and had simply been the last ones to realize it.
But they had realized now.
The moment didn't need a big love confession, a sappy moment out of a romance movie, or even a kiss. It would probably make for a pretty anticlimactic tale for Heather, but Astrid was happy how it had turned out so them. There were no words, as their strength had always lain in silent understanding. There was no drama, because they were practical, down to Earth, and there was no need for a fuss. It was like a birthday, where all of a sudden you get to declare yourself a whole year older when in truth only a day has passed.
Hiccup and Astrid had gone to Hiccup and Astrid, but there wasn't a difference, not really.
Just, the next time she felt like kissing him, she would. And sure, the moment didn't need a kiss, but that didn't mean a kiss wouldn't enhance the moment.
So she did just that. She barely had to move for their lips to meet. It was chaste, but a promise of so much more to come, and she felt those nervous butterflies people described, but there was more. There was an underlying steady pool of rightness that wouldn't fade the same way the flutters would. They parted, and Astrid had the strangest urge to gasp the air anew, like she had never truly breathed it at its freshest in the small air conditioned apartment on the third floor. She loved him He loved her They loved each other.
"You don't have to sleep on the couch tonight."
I look forward to seeing you all again this week!