He knows her laugh, the way she says his name, and how her voice has a funny lilt when she gets excited. He's heard those sounds a million times, a billion times, but his favourite is when Betty sighs.
He's known her his entire life; he's heard her sigh from frustration, exhaustion, and content. It's not until she sighs for him, that he discovers that it's his favourite sound.
The first time he kisses her, he's terrified. He can feel himself staring, boring his eyes into her face, trying to memorize every precious detail of her. Her long black lashes, the lingering smell of cinnamon; she takes over every sense he can feel. He can feel himself choking on his own breath, and when he's able to squeak out "Also", it feels like the universe is weighing on his chest.
"What?" that one question makes him want to lean forward, press his need into her perfect lips, and see if she tastes like her favourite vanilla milkshake. He inhales and her shoulders come down as if she can read his mind as she asks again, "What?"
Suddenly he gains all the courage in the world, and he's kissing her; the girl next door, the girl he's always know, the girl who suddenly is a stranger. That girl is kissing him back, and he's relieved he feels like his heads going to explode. He's never wanted, needed, to kiss someone before, but by God does he never want to stop.
And then she sighs, and he's a goner. She sighs and he can feel her breath against his lips and he is suddenly drunk on the taste of Betty Cooper. He's never mixed with drugs before, but he swears she could be better than cocaine, the rush she is sending through his body. His knees become weak, his fingers weave through her hair, and he has to count to 5 before he can open his eyelids. That one sigh, that one kiss, and suddenly he doesn't want to do anything else, can't think of anything else, but kiss Betty. Kiss her and hold her and hopefully, try to make her sigh again.