Loosely related to about 10 different songs, credits to the artists.
Small one-shot, based on Betty and Jughead.
The summary describes the plot.
Reviews make me happy.
Should I make a Part Two?
Betty Cooper had been the one and only light in Jughead Jones's life. She was his princess, and he tried his best to treat her like one. Really, he didn't deserve her, but she always reminded him how much she loved him and every time he could feel his heart clench.
He remembers the times when they would go to Pops, together, at one in the morning. These memories were one of the best, and he looked forward to the groggy calls from his beloved, practically begging him to accompany her to the infamous diner. He had been more than happy to comply every time.
"I wonder why Pop's is open this early, but I'm not going to ask." She giggles gently, her beautiful neck exposed as she slightly threw her head back in laughter. He always wondered to himself how he could have ended up with someone so goddamn stunning. He memorized the shape of her face, the sharp edge of her angelic jawline, her absolutely gorgeous emerald-green eyes, her long, silky legs that he had the pleasure to caress. He could go on.
The brunette male in front of her nodded, chuckling along with her, enjoying how content she was. He was proud that he could make her feel happy, and it was the little things in life that made it worthwhile.
"Honestly, Pop's will definitely go down in history as one of the best diners, hands down." He replies honestly, giving her that gentle smile he only reserved for her. He had never been a nice, or even generally a social man. That was until he met Betty, and he branched at more and basked in the fact that she was his. His girl, his love, his passion, his beloved.
"No doubt." She exclaims, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. She sips on the milkshake in front of her delicately and then peeks up at him with big, green, deer-like eyes. Betty always had the same eyes. They were curious, innocent, and inquisitive. Only Jughead knew what lay beneath those covers of innocence.
He was just staring at her, admiring her. Betty knew at that moment that there was no place she rather be other than Pops, in a red booth, with him, her safe place. He was the best, the best there was. He was so gentle and kind to her, but he was always firm and stern with her when she did something stupid. She loved that about him, and it always made her swoon for him.
"Baby, we are the new romantics." He had told her.
"That we are." She smiled, lifting her head up and leaning towards him. Her lips were puckered out, and she licked them, wrinkling up her nose cutely. She always had a nick for pushing his buttons. She knew what made him groan in annoyance, what made him scream with pleasure, what made him shiver, what made him gasp, what made him smile, She knew everything.
Jughead lifted his hands to cup her face gently, pulling her in to kiss him. Betty loved his hands, they were big and rough. His fingers were humble from constantly typing, and they were long, and they could reach places she never thought reachable.
"That we are." He repeated softly.
Jughead also remembered the days they spent in fathers' trailer. Those we precious, he held those dear to his heart. He held every memory of her dear to his heart, she was his little angel.
"Damn, this popcorn took forever." She whined, shuffling the popcorn in the bowl as she stumbled over towards him, to being able to wipe the smile off her face. She loved watching movies with her Juggie, even though she stubbornly 'claimed' she didn't. She always just loved to hear him beg, and their compromises always worked to her benefit.
Jughead didn't say anything, only watching her come over with the buttery popcorn in hand. She lays it down on the nightstand before bringing back almost a million blankets from the closet. He didn't even know he had that many. Betty somehow discovers new things in his trailer whenever she was there. From blankets to old notebooks he used to keep, it was always a new discovery.
She snuggled up against him, making her self-comfy by adjusting the pillows and blankets. He had one of his shirts on and nothing else on, except for her bra and underwear. He couldn't help but rub her legs lovingly, admiring them. She giggled, swatting his hand playfully. She was by far the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on.
Jughead thought she was adorable, but then again, when had he not?
She settled on resting her head on his arm, pressing her body against his, and wrapping herself like a mummy in five different blankets. The other ones had fallen off the couch, and he had none, but he didn't care. Betty was comfy and that was all that mattered to him. He had spent many nights, curled up next to her, without anything, but her warmth was enough.
"This is perfect. I couldn't dream this up, even if I tried. You and me at this moment, feels like magic doesn't it? I'm right where I want to be. Everyone's talking 'bout heaven like they just can't wait to go. Saying how its gonna be so good, so beautiful. Lying next to you, on this couch with you, I'm not convinced, because I don't know how heaven can be better than this."
Betty always knew Jughead Jones had a way with words.
Jughead had begged her to watch Romeo and Juliet, and after compromising that if she watched the movie, then he would cuddle her afterward. Betty had always been a bargainer, but he found himself enjoying their trades.
Jughead had been more than happy to agree.
That was exactly what they did, watched Romeo and Juliet, and then snuggled until they fell asleep, her warm body in his arms and him hugging her protectively.
Those were the good days.
If you asked Betty about Jughead, she would be angry with you.
Everyone knew how much she adored him, how much she cared for him. Hell, she had lost her virginity to him. She still loved him, and that's what hurt most.
Betty remembers every pause, every sigh, every grunt, every word he had said when he called her so many years ago.
"Hi," Jughead said quietly as she answered the phone. He usually greeted her with a more elaborate greeting, so she was more interested in what he was going to tell her.
"Hey Jug. What's up?" She asks him, writing in her diary that she kept. She wasn't nervous, he usually called her by this time to talk to her if he wasn't with her.
"Elizabeth, I have something to tell you." He sighs into the phone. His fingers twitched on the device, and he attempted to conceal his nervousness and his upset manner.
Betty quirks her eyebrow. He barely called her Elizabeth, and that was only when he was angry or something serious was about to endure.
"Tell away."
There was a long pause. It made her anxious.
"I think we should see other people." He huffs into the phone, and she could hear him sit down. She guessed it was in the same seat she would always sit on, and tell him about her day.
Betty laughed.
"I'm writing, leave me alone. Jokes are not funny. Bye," She almost hangs up the phone but she notices he doesn't laugh. She gulps slowly.
Jughead had been instructed to be as rude as possible if she didn't get it the first time.
"I'm not joking, do you think everything is a joke now?" He snaps into the phone. His heart physically hurt. He felt light-headed, he couldn't believe he was leaving the love of his life.
Betty was surprised, and practically gasped into the cellphone she was holding.
"It doesn't even matter if I break up with you. I know you'll just run to Archie." He grunts, biting his lip. He couldn't believe he was doing this. How could he let his father control him like this?
Betty's emotions flickered. First, she was furious, then confused, and finally, upset.
"Jug, why can't we talk about this? I love you. What can I do to improve? I promise I'll do better." She pleads with him, and she felt tears starting to brew near her eyes. She felt like bawling until she no longer had enough tears to shed. She had to do better. She must do better.
"Why don't you get it? I don't want to be with you."
Those words hit her hard. She felt the words crumble her, bit by bit.
How do you run and play when you feel like there are bricks of the heaviest sadness weighing down your body? How do you laugh and talk when there are no laughs left inside you?
"Juggie, you don't mean this-" She is cut off by her former lover.
"My name? It's Forsythe. Thank you." He seethes into the phone, ending the call before he could hear her cry. That would break him down even more.
Betty's pen had pressed so hard against the paper that it broke, spilling ink everywhere, onto her sheets, around her skin, everything.
That night had been one of the worst nights she had. She couldn't sleep, and when she was awake, all she did was cry and pinch herself. The one she had loved most had destroyed her.
She didn't come out of her room for an entire week. Her friends had come to her house, she ignored them. She ignored her family. She ignored everyone.
She waited for a text, a phone call, a letter, something.
Jughead had been forced to move to Toledo. It was so miserable for him. On top of all that, his parents had been signed into a deal with the Spellmans, and he was forced to date a girl named Sabrina. He didn't live with her, and he dodged every sexual encounter he had with her. He couldn't bring himself to touch another woman. He had tried to keep the relationship as private possible, he couldn't bear the word being brought back to his beloved.
She had heard, though. That's when instead of being depressed, she turned bitter and cold about the situation. She hated when people mentioned him at all, and forbid it.
When she heard Jughead Jones was back in town, she was furious.
How dare he come back? How dare he even show his face, when he hurt so much? How dare he even be breathing the same air as her? How dare he.
So, you imagine her surprise when he showed up at her door.
She had been quietly watching TV, munching on a chocolate bar. Her hair was tied up in a cute, messy bun. She wore a small top, one that covered about half her stomach. She had a pair of boy shorts on, to top it off. She had no intention of going out or anyone coming over, so she wore what was comfy.
She paused the show she was watching, and skipped over to the door, popping a piece in her mouth as she opened the door to the Cooper House.
There stood, Jughead Jones.
He was back in town.
"Betts." He breathed, reaching over to envelop her into a big bear hug.
Betty squealed in disgust, dodging his affectionate move.
He was so surprised that he stumbled, backing away from her. He hadn't expected that, whatsoever. "Don't be like this," he whispered to her, attempting to take hold her hand. She took a step away from him.
Then she slapped him, and it was a juicy slap.
"Why are you at my house? Get the hell away." Betty snaps at him, watching as he rubbed his face gingerly. What an ass, he was so cocky that she would welcome him back in open arms.
Jughead was watching her with admiring eyes. She truly was beautiful, and he didn't deserve her at all. She was so perfect, stunning, and gorgeous, every affectionate word in the book.
"I deserved that," He sighs, shaking his head. He continued to stare at her, staring at her and the couch behind her.
That couch had been the very same couch where he had made love to her, and he remembers every pant, every moan, everything. Everything.
She rolled her eyes at him spitefully.
"I heard, that'd you've been out and about, with some other girl." She huffs to him in annoyance.
"What you heard is true, but I, can't stop thinking about you and me." He says slowly, looking at her sadly, frowning at her. He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, hoping the would switch her emotion and decisions.
"You know what hurts so much? When you love someone at the beginning, and you see stars in their eyes. They're the only one you want to talk to. Then, months later, you start to see everything fall apart, and I didn't know how to fix it. I'd grown way too attached to you. I didn't want to lose you. I couldn't bear the pain of seeing you with someone else, and it hurts so much. It hurts, knowing that what I had with you wasn't real." She admits softly.
"You and I were probably never meant to be, but I loved every single second I spent with you," The blonde adds, shaking her head in despair. Her fingers start twitching in anticipation and she has to go against her will to not slam the door into his face.
"Baby, we were real and we were everything." He whispers, leaning towards her, hoping that she would forgive him. He wanted to kiss away all her problems, snuggle her into his arms as she told him about her day. He wanted to be hers. He wanted her to be his.
Betty couldn't let herself feel that pain again.
"No, Forsythe, no. That doesn't work." She says, shaking her head and yet again taking another step away from him. She didn't want to get hurt again, she couldn't bear the pain.
The brunette boy continued sorrowfully.
"The scent that you left on my pillows. The sound of your heartbeat with mine. The look in your eyes like a window. The taste of your kiss soaked in wine. Every little thing, I remember every little thing. The high, the hurt, the shine, the sting, of every little thing."
Betty feels her heart swoon but she continues to the pursuit.
"Guess you forgot what you told me because you left my heart on the floor."
"I always needed time on my own. I never thought I'd need you there when I cried. The days feel like years when I'm alone. The bed where you laid, is folded up on your side. Do you see how much I need you right now? When you're gone, the pieces of my heart aren't missing you. When you're gone, the face I came to know is missing too. The words I needed to hear, to get me through the day, and make it okay. I miss you."
"I've never felt this way before, everything I do reminds me of you. The clothes you left, they smell just like you. I love the things that you do. We were made for each other, out here forever, all I ever wanted for you to know, everything I do, I give my heart and soul. I can hardly breathe; I need to feel you here." He mummers, gently taking hold of her hand again.
"If you came with me, spent the night, you say the words but you don't fool me. What do you expect me to say? You take my hand, you say you changed, but you can't trick me, because to you it is just a game. So, let me on down, cause time has made me strong. I'm starting to move on, I'm gonna say this now, your chance has come and gone; and you know, It's just a little too late, a little too wrong, and I can't wait. You know all the right things to say. You say, you dream of my face, but you don't like me, you just like the chase. To be real, it doesn't matter anyway. I was young, and in love, I gave you everything, but it wasn't enough, and now you want to communicate? Go find someone else. I'm letting you go, I'm loving myself. Do you have a problem? Well, don't come asking me for help! I can love, with all of my hearts. I know I have so much to give. With a player like you, I don't have a goddamn prayer, and that's no way to live. Go home, Forsythe."
Jughead feels his heart crumble into a million pieces. She had held his heart in her hand then crushed it, and brutally so. His face usually was hard to read but this time the pain and confusion were written all over his face.
Betty gulped, swallowing, and then just stared at him in silence. She took the terrible decision to slam the door in his face, and when it was closed she leaned her forehead against it gingerly. The part that made her heart ache was that she knew she could never love anyone as much as her beloved Forsythe Pendleton Jones the III.
She somehow has the courage to walk away from the door, picking up her chocolate bar again, sitting down on the hardwood floor, and staring blankly at the pastel pink walls of her bedroom.
Jughead was in immediate shock, staring at the door that had cut off his connection with his beloved. Her words replayed in his head, and the more he repeated them, the more he believed him. He slowly started backing away, dreadfully leaving the house that used to be his second home.
He saw the golden boy, Archie Andrews, jogging down the street next to him. He felt a small, microscopic twinge of happiness. He would finally be able to see his childhood best friend again. He waved his arms, attempting to get his attention, and jogged after him.
"Arch!" He shouted, and eventually got the attention of the runner. Archie stopped and turned around, and then noticed the mildly toned, beanie-wearing boy in front of him.
Archie Andrews was a very easy boy to read, and he displayed his emotions freely. He was kind but hardheaded, and outspoken. He was brutally protective, in which case, was bad for Jughead at the moment.
Jughead saw three emotions fix across his face.
Anger, disappointment, and sadness were laced into his features. Jughead got nervous as he walked over to him hesitantly. "Hey, long time no see,"
Archie just stares at him for a couple moments before answering.
"Yeah." He answered flatly, making a point that he didn't want to converse with him and he just wanted to keep running.
"How have you been?"
"Look, dude, I really don't feel like talking to you. Go back to Toledo, with Sabrina." He answers plainly, stepping closer to Jughead with cold eyes. He scratched his head, moistening his lips as he looked over his former male companion.
Jughead is surprised by his calm outburst and he momentarily is shocked, especially by the mention of Sabrina. "Arch, what did I do? I had to move, I-"
He is cut off by a push to his chest, and Archie's flaring ears.
"It's a small town, word gets around quick. Nothing personal... wait, yes, this is something personal. I warned you, but now I'm going to tell you the truth." He says with squinted eyes.
"The day you have Betty that phone call, she didn't come out of her room. She stayed. She didn't leave her room and she attempted self-harm multiple times. She barely talked to anyone, and she stopped eating. They took her to the hospital and she had to stay there for a week. After that, she needed to see a therapist. She refused to see her meeting after about three appointments, and guess who had to pick up the fucking pieces? Me, Veronica, Kevin, Cheryl, even fucking Fangs, and Sweetpea. Your own friends, that barely knew her, had to help her. How does that make you feel? How does fucking that make you feel? She would wake up from nightmares, about you leaving her again. You can't waltz back into her life again like , that isn't how this works, you dumb fuck. You can't even begin to imagine the pain you put her into, and Riverdale had to put the perfect girl next door's life back together. Now, please, leave." He finishes, walking backward and then turning around, jogging away from him.
Jughead was stunned. He couldn't believe he was the source of so much suffering. It was getting dark and he had no place to stay, he had selfishly assumed Betty would let him stay the night. He whipped out a packet of cigarettes, he had picked up on that terrible habitat after his breakup with Betty, and lit one, blowing into it.
Finally, he felt the darkness loom over him, the emptiness, the loneliness, the despair. He soon felt the clear droplets tumble down his eyes, coating his face with wetness. He blew, blew out, repeat.
The cigarette seemed to be the only thing he could depend on.