She was still slightly taller than him. Not by much, but there was still a difference. Enough of a difference that she didn't have to stand on her tiptoes to push her face into his shoulder, instead of simply her chin. She wouldn't tell him how glad she was that he hadn't let go, but the fact she was still clinging just as strongly would probably be enough of a giveaway.
It wasn't Hiccup's fault that he didn't measure up to what she'd come to know him as. In fact, thinking of it that way was completely wrong. Hiccup was still Hiccup and she still liked him just as much; he just hadn't had his chance to shine yet. It was still all there in that thin chest of his, locked up and away, buried underneath layers of insecurity. She just needed to dig at it to have him show his true colors, or well, the palette he kept hidden away.
Weakness. She was showing it again. But it was okay, she argued with herself. It was just Hiccup. She could feel the leather of her circlet press into her forehead against Hiccup's bony shoulder, but she didn't mind.
Lips parted then as she kept her face against him, fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. "I think I know how you've been feeling." She said after a moment, choosing her words carefully, even if her voice was barely above a mutter. "Back home. On Berk. Before you proved yourself to everyone and me. That feeling of always messing up or people looking at you weird."
It wasn't that Astrid had never been above making mistakes. She did, often. But they usually weren't big ones (except for the time she'd planted dragon eggs in everyone's houses and they exploded without ceremony) and usually someone else would mess up worse than her. Here however, in this era, she was constantly making mistakes and making a mess of things. The only thing she'd been able to do right was perform at Nibbleheim, which was something that would be put on hold until the place was rebuilt. Feeling like a failure, like an idiot, no matter how hard she'd been trying, it left a terrible taste in her mouth.
"I think I know how that feels now. It's pretty awful."
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It wasn't Hiccup's fault that he didn't measure up to what she'd come to know him as. In fact, thinking of it that way was completely wrong. Hiccup was still Hiccup and she still liked him just as much; he just hadn't had his chance to shine yet. It was still all there in that thin chest of his, locked up and away, buried underneath layers of insecurity. She just needed to dig at it to have him show his true colors, or well, the palette he kept hidden away.
Weakness. She was showing it again. But it was okay, she argued with herself. It was just Hiccup. She could feel the leather of her circlet press into her forehead against Hiccup's bony shoulder, but she didn't mind.
Lips parted then as she kept her face against him, fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. "I think I know how you've been feeling." She said after a moment, choosing her words carefully, even if her voice was barely above a mutter. "Back home. On Berk. Before you proved yourself to everyone and me. That feeling of always messing up or people looking at you weird."
It wasn't that Astrid had never been above making mistakes. She did, often. But they usually weren't big ones (except for the time she'd planted dragon eggs in everyone's houses and they exploded without ceremony) and usually someone else would mess up worse than her. Here however, in this era, she was constantly making mistakes and making a mess of things. The only thing she'd been able to do right was perform at Nibbleheim, which was something that would be put on hold until the place was rebuilt. Feeling like a failure, like an idiot, no matter how hard she'd been trying, it left a terrible taste in her mouth.
"I think I know how that feels now. It's pretty awful."