Ylva Arwen, The Hopeless Valkyrie.

Ylva was a very beautiful girl.

She was tall, thin, with flared hips and a perky bust. Her face was rounded, her cheeks rosy and pelted in freckles. Her eyes were of a vibrant emerald, and her hair was a flare of red and orange, intermingling into quite the sight.

She was also a hopeless romantic, and one that had been chasing the same girl for over five years.

It wasn't her fault. She hadn't chosen to love Amaia Skyes, the girl with the beautiful baby blue eyes and the pale, silky silver hair. The one that had stolen this metaphorical Brunhyndlr's heart, the one who had shown this warrior what she needed, who had helped her when she wanted it most.

Amaia Skyes... The mere thought of the beautiful, feisty and short girl was enough to light a fire as strong as Surtr's flame in her heart, stomach, and mind. The Valkyrie often found herself merely staring at her best friend and her biggest companion, smiling at random whenever they were together or going out, and grinning like an idiot whenever she thought of her at night.

Said girl was also part of her fantasies, constantly showing up to torment her with wish and desire, from the most naïve, innocent things, such as holding her hand to kissing her under a moonlit sky, to other, more lecherous and lustful desires, some of which made her cheeks flare up even now.

Indeed, Amaia was her one true love...

Such a shame her friend did not think the same. Shame that she was not like her, that she did not like other women. Shame that she was in a loving relationship with a boy. Shame that she saw nothing in Ylva, outside of a friend.

Or... Did She?