reopened Things Sweeter than Macarons pv astrid

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

To say that Astrid looked gorgeous in the royal blue dress would be an understatement. Hans had not noticed the girl's change in her preference of clothing; even if he had he would not make the connection to the events of summer that seemed more as a fever dream than real life, from the highest of highs that August night to their concerning encounter with hag slugs. Yet Hans had little care for what Astrid was wearing. Even if the sequins did not reflect the light, highlighting the girl by his side as a shining angel, she would have shone nevertheless. Unlike how Nikolai made his eyes hurt looking at him was the bright Helios incarnate, Astrid seemed to be the moon in comparison, a much more welcoming sight, yet making her nightly rotations just as the sun did his daily.

"Yeah," Hans said, chuckling though with a hint of nervousness as he looked over the spread again. "I have macarons! The flavour you like too." The name of the dessert sent visions of the sale, crumbly ones he had seen yesterday, though their state was no the only unpleasantness connotated. They had been thrown onto the ground in her rage and their shared frustration, a meeting originally anticipated with elated penmanship burdened and crushed by the lack of communication. Words that had centred around Astrid, despite Meiyu having never even met her, making him regret ever telling anything to the girl.

But if you think Hans would bring any of that into today, think again. Eyes lighting up as he settled on Astrid's grin, he said cheerily. "I feel great! I've been looking around the school, to be honest it seems more responsible than Hogwarts at least..." He smiled into the distance as his eyes briefly wandered over where he had trekked across yesterday, before his gaze snapped back onto the one of the girl before him, determined to be focusing on her and her solely for the picnic. After all he could have explored the grounds anytime, but today was too perfect for him to be distracted elsewhere, "Though, I digress. How are you doing? Enjoying, well-" he said, spreading his hands "-all this?"

banner by yours truly || interacting as Hans Jenssen

Okay was a disheartening adjective to Hans’ ears. Ultimately, it was not synonymous with perfection. Perhaps he should have looked past the hinderance in word choice, considering the amount of trauma they had been subjected to the past year at outings like today’s, yet a boy usually careless to the opinion of others, he could not help but hyper-fixate his mind on that one word. No matter how enjoyable of a picnic, how pristinely he laid out the refreshments or how well-mannered he displayed himself, the issues that troubled them were out of his control — slugs and terrorists that he was helpless to demolish. Faltering slightly, he edged himself back into the flow of conversation, though sounding not quite natural after his bout of overthinking, “Anytime.”

Commanding his vision and a racing mind to focus only on the smile Astrid offered him in response, a slight reminder of the light in the world amongst the darkness that surrounded their little oasis, he moved on from the ‘great’ that was never vocalised. Her next words, however, elicited a smile from Hans even as he understood she meant it a completely different way. Voice lowered slightly as he studied those blue grey eyes, “I wouldn’t mind staying away from the crowds if I’m with company like you.” Ha! Was he flirting ? Not that the oblivious Astrid would notice probably. She not being able to take a hint was half the trouble and half her charm. If he with his fearless nature would ever fear anything romantic rejection was quite an absurd choice but what he dwelt on more was the uncertainty. At his own emotions, at Astrid’s emotions, at what may become of their shared emotions post Valentine’s Day, whether for better or worse.

Hans realised he had not yet even taken a bite at the assortment he had laid out, and watching as Astrid finished her own raspberry macaron (the ones he had acquired specifically for her, because he would rather keep his distance from the gustative heaven), he took a sandwich, if only out of etiquette. After all, it would be uncanny, if not rude, to invite her out to a picnic just to watch her eat. The picnic blanket rustled under them as a breeze past, riling the rolling expanse of green. Taking a bite, the wind tousled his hair as he ate, the messy strands familiar as they graced over his eyes, no different from the high-speed drafts through his races in the open sky. Self-consciously, he wiped his fingers on a napkin and pushed it back, not to much avail as another breeze came. Dealing with the wind was still better than doing this in some crowded dining hall, he reminded himself. “Bomb or no it’s nice being away from people, isn’t it?… Also, do you like my hair like this better or pushed back?”

“Oh, on the topic of that…” Hans said, laughing softly as his cheeks turned a subtle pink, “I mean on the topic of today being Valentine’s Day— Astrid, what’s your opinion on romance?”

banner by yours truly || interacting as Hans Jenssen

“Which I don't really see myself in at the moment.”

Right. Honestly, Hans didn’t know what sort of answer he was supposed to be expecting, but this should have been one of the responses. He should have been prepared for the ever common occurrence of rejection — of course with all the factors of age and relationship status and whatever else went into the mysterious primordial soup that built romantic interest, success should have been more miracle than commonplace. And especially from someone like Astrid. It was just so unfair that her rejection of romance somehow made Hans like her more, which, he reminded himself, he ought to be stopping now. Keeping his composure in check and giving no hint he had been hoping for one answer in particular, he eventually settled on something to say.

“In that case then, I just want you to know something, and you don’t need to do anything about it,” he prefaced. He took care to clarify that he was merely telling Astrid of his infatuation, not asking her to, in return, agree to any romantic involvement. For the last seven months he had enjoyed a surprisingly close friendship, having only further known her out of a crush he thought would be fleeting, yet realising he valued her infinitely more than that. Of course he would have enjoyed being something more than just friends with Astrid, but his friendship with her came first, and he was not jeopardising that. Letting out a steady breath as if puffing out cigarette smoke, he said, “I like you, Astrid.”

Hans didn’t know why the conversation had seemed to have taken a turn for such seriousness. This was meant to be fun, it was meant to be friendly, and he was alright with it staying friendly. He broke into a smile, as his hands subconsciously reached to his hair as his thoughts trailed back to what Astrid’s words. The cruel thing about attraction is that no matter how much you wanted it to go away, it just clung on stubbornly, like a small child mulishly asking for more chocolate. “You’re beautiful,” he said, looking into the face where all that physical attractiveness concentrated on, “And that goes beyond what you look like. You are sweet and kind and loyal, and I love the way you smile. And seriously, I could go on and on listing all your qualities, but even if you’re not looking for anything romantic, I just wanted you to know, okay?”

banner by yours truly || interacting as Hans Jenssen

“You’re welcome,” he offered, though it sounded half-hearted, a mere instinctive response to Astrid’s own half-hearted gratitude. Hans had been aware of his evident infatuation, and the existent possibility that Astrid may not return his feelings. He had been well prepared, for both the best and the worst. He just did not think… it would be like this — no condemnation, no commendation, but rather an in between of questioning.

Astrid sighed, and chuckled. Hans would have managed a laugh if he were sitting with anyone else.

She offered Hans and apologetic smile, and a part of him wanted to rush to console that there was no need for remorse, while the other desperately tried to convince him to shoot one more chance.

“Of course it can stay the same,” Hans reassured, “I’d like for it to stay the same too.” Since they had first met properly after the absurdist battle against the hag slugs, to today, sitting on a picnic blanket together, a setting so romantic yet stuck in a relationship as platonic as theirs, with the pain of unrequited love. Han had always been fond of taking risks, calculated or otherwise, and it was true he had put their friendship in peril when he had extended his feelings. Yet, it did not have to be in peril — it was a matter of a choice, and he chose to keep their boat steadily afloat.

Eventually, after a lingering moment of silence, though not an awkward one, Hans let out a breath and took a bite of the sandwich. He had done more overthinking than eating so far, but hunger begged he reconsider his priorities. It was difficult, however, to think of priorities post heartbreak. Yet moving on, whether in love or otherwise, was a skill inevitably learnt, and Hans would soon recognise its value as he met Astrid’s eyes, staring into their fjord-blue depths for a few fleeting moments. He glanced away, eyes flitting across the pastel beauty of Beauxbatons, before finally, changing the subject as if nothing had happened, tone calm, even.

Their flow of conversation unrestricted and uncontained, they spoke akin to the currents of a river — fast at times, slower at others, a current of topics whichever came to mind first. He would have preferred if they held hands, would have preferred that sweet smile a little too close to his own, but for this moment of happiness, he was content enough to not ruin it with his own selfishness. Eventually, they descended into laughs, until afternoon dipped evening and the sky was painted a red-gold sunset.