Accidental Fiancé

11: Dinner and Not a Date

Eleven: Dinner and Not a Date

Back in the apartment, Astrid was actually excited at the prospect of her meal. Once they had left the pharmacy, Hiccup had taken charge-once he had checked if she had any food allergies or preferences or dislikes. Standing back, it had been refreshing to see him walk forward with confidence in the shops, picking meat and vegetables and browse the pastry section with complete ease, while Astrid was mesmerised. In the little grocery section, he expertly harvested herbs and spices and stock-which she had no idea about, except it was something to so with merchandise for shops. And hearing his voice speak with confidence, joking with the grocer and talking pleasantly with the butcher, had made her heart warm in her chest.

Back in the apartment, he had carefully carried the food in, as well as an armful of bags of his new clothes. Camicazi and Astrid had willingly carried the rest and they had dumped the carriers in the guest bedroom as Hiccup carefully stowed the food and looked on with pride at his selection of condiments. And the little smile on his lips had just made Astrid feel warm. Then she had changed to go to her yoga mat to relax while he vanished into the bedroom to stow his purchases.

Alone in the guest room, Hiccup looked on a room that was the size of most master bedrooms with its own ensuite and a bank of mirrored wardrobes. The bed had pristine white bedclothes, a huge fluffy duvet and plentiful pillows-in fact, it looked like a hotel room. Trying to avoid thinking about the fact that he was essentially lodging in his friend's home because he was hiding from his ferocious ex-girlfriend, he carefully unpacked the meagre few items he had brought himself and the new clothes, shoes and personal items he had acquired. And then he looked at the new wardrobe and a surge of pride and shame welled in his chest. These were literally the only clothes he possessed, apart from the couple of pairs of jeans and his dress suit he had left at his father's and they were definitely not what Bella would have chosen...but perhaps, they were what Hiccup himself would have, had fate been kinder.

He blinked. He had been very careful not to allow the extremely helpful but intrusive assistants glimpsing his body. There were just too many scars, too much wrong there to be ashamed of that he wouldn't willingly share with anyone. But he now could look like a real person...if only he was't such a sight anyway.

Honestly, Hiccup-why would anyone else want to go out with you? I mean-you stammer, you're clumsy, you have a big nose and weird hair and no social skills. You should be grateful I'm willing to put up with you.

He stared at the shape in the mirror, hunched shoulders making him look down and subdued. The man he was looking at was in hiding, pretending to be what he was not, penniless and broken. All he was good for was serving whichever woman would take pity on his wretched self. On the pathetic specimen he was. He stared harder into the emerald eyes in the mirror: shamed and wary...but he looked up and lifted his chin.

NO! You can't keep listening to her. Bella wanted you cowed and broken and Thor, she did that. But this is your chance, you muttonhead. And if you don't take this, you're a disgrace to a thousand years of Haddocks.

OK, I'm a disgrace anyway-but Astrid believes in me.

I wish I believed in me.

He pulled away from the reflection, turning to the door and heading for the kitchen. Bella hadn't believed that she should serve him in any way-because she had reminded him constantly that she was doing him the favour by being his girlfriend...so he had developed his already good cooking abilities to ensure she couldn't complain about his culinary skills. But she had anyway, even though he knew he was producing good food. Smiling at Astrid, who was locked in concentration as she maintained her Plank to make sure her core was astonishingly strong, he headed to the kitchen, make himself a coffee and began to cook.