#bozhena

Name: Greta Gelumbickas

AKA: Bozhena

Born: 2004

and that's how I look scrolling through my hansry-ridden feed (except I'm not the queen Bozhena is)

hi :) I posted my first KCD2 fanfic :) it's postgame hansry, rated T (for now), and it's just a wee bit angsty. enjoy :D

(I eventually want to post more chapters, I have a whole story in mind for this, but I'm starting with bits and pieces because otherwise I'll never share it at all)

"At least pull your hood up." Henry reached for it, but Hans nudged his hand away.

"I'm fine. I like being able to see where I'm going."

Henry shrugged. "Have it your way. You know, you should grow a beard to keep warm." Henry stroked his own beard for emphasis. "It's like having a built-in scarf."

Hans snorted. "And twice as scratchy."

"What, you think mine's scratchy?"

"I know it is." Hans raised an eyebrow at him, a smile playing on his lips. "Kissing you is like shoving my face into a pile of hay."

Henry scoffed. "Like your prickly arse is any better!" He clutched Hans's shoulder tight, and with his free hand scratched Hans's bare chin and cheeks like he would a dog. Hans instantly protested, twisting and wriggling out of Henry's persistent grasp, laughing like a child. Hans countered by tugging on Henry's beard with both hands – Henry reflexively backed away from the assault, but tripped on a gnarled tree root and fell to the side of the trail, landing on his arse in a snow mound, flurries knocked from the branches above sifting over him.

"Ha! Ever the victor!" Hans spread his arms out wide in a show of triumph, before a clump of snow collapsed from an overhead branch and crashed onto his face. He sputtered haplessly, then brushed the flakes out of his eyes and hair, flapping his hood to clear it off. Henry just laughed and shook his head.

"That's why we keep our hoods up in the winter," Henry chided.