Tiller

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What she should've done - she should've stepped inside the cove already, she should've strolled through the flowered beauty a while ago, and she should've greeted the man, without further issues, without further prevention. What she should've not done - she should've not hidden behind the entrance's wall currently, she should've not peeped on the inside, and foremostly, she should've not done that for so long.

Weather, if asked, everybody would have said that it was beyond the norm, the extraordinary, whereas the temperature reached the utmost, and the sky lacked any, even the tiniest, mere cloud, being brightened by the gleaming sun. Yet, even though the cove looked its finest, having the hues of blooms overstuffing it, the woman's eyes never glanced around, were rather fixed at one point, never allowing to alter the orientation.

Thus, she'd stared at Toothless, who, doing whatever, the hell, he fucking did, having his hair tied in a ponytail, his bangs obscuring his eyes, crouched over the soil in the direct sunlight, much shirtless. Having the accompaniment of chirping birds, the muscles of his broad back shifted steadily, time and again flexed, stirred, and loosened ahead of her eyes, whilst the vast scars on it unveiled underneath the rays.

The moment she'd laid her eyes on him when entering inside, she'd been stunned, strumbled in half the step, and stayed still, from where everything went to that point when the quick peek turned into minutes of mortification. Just as a few days ago, when staring at the wide forearms whilst Toothless angled the sword, she'd no idea, why she couldn't take her eyes off him, if maybe, it was because of the anxiety - the realization of how robust he'd really been, or something else.

Of course, it wasn't as if she'd never seen him like that before - bare and muscly - after all, when sewing him that tunic, he'd been half-naked the entire while, though now, it wasn't the same - they'd changed. Their approach to each other had changed, their behavior toward one another, whatever there was, which was the consequence of these past weeks, had changed, and for so, the bond between them, for the better.

"It's rather rude to stare at someone without their consent, you know?" he exclaimed, out of a sudden, not even glancing at her, whereas she'd tensed, struck dumb. "If you're trying to scare me though, you're failing since you've come."

Her face burning with mortification, Hiccup slipped through the cove, took the stance by the man, and asked, "How so?" reddening as she'd noticed the man's smirk, which must've been constant.

"That so," he tsked, his shoulders jolting at the act, never really glancing at her. "You've lacked something."

Rolling her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, she inquired, "Which is?" and got nearly slammed by the flying bucket, whereas she'd seized it, barely.

"The element of surprise," he answered, his eyes locked on her miffed self, maintaining an amused attitude as he ordered, "Fill it up."

"Ye're aware, that ye've handed me the weapon, right?" she spotted, curving her mouth into a smile, having the bucket dangled on her pointing finger. "Be not surprised by how will I use it."

"Quit the talk, freckles. I'll be surprised, only if you manage to sneak on me when conscious, so don't get your hopes high," he stated, then pointed with his head at the pond, just off. "Do what I asked for, please."

"Oh, since ye're beggin' so much," she replied, almost whacking him with the bucket when she'd passed by, if it wasn't for the matter of how he'd tilted his head away. "It ain't mean I won't try, tho."

Subsequently hadn't he responded much, just shook his head, most likely rolling his eyes, while she'd actually listened, approached the surface of the water, and crouching down, she drowned the metal bucket, slowly. In the meantime, her eyes took in the sight of the cove, beaming at the picture of the luminous forest above, much unaware of the glances Toothless vested her with, before he goggled back at the soil, the very moment she'd stood up.

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