The moonlight filtering in from the small guest room window cast a shadow on the wide-awake form of Jughead Jones. His mind tired but his body completely awake, he shifted in the small bed, dragging the duvet cover with him as his eyes scanned the room—or what he could see of it with the rays of the moon.

For the past two weeks, this had been his home. What used to be an unused room in the Cooper house was now his room. Apart from the strewn about clothing on the floor and his old pictures of him, Jellybean, and his parents, there was little to distinguish that this was where he slept at night. He didn't mind that so much. After all, he got to sleep right across the hall from Betty. He shifted once again, this time on his back, his hands coming to cup the back of his head as he stared longingly at the ceiling. He got to see her every day, wake up to her beautiful face, but as far as any kind of intimate contact, there was none. Mrs. Cooper was very, very vigilant, and they were seldom left alone to their own devices. Jughead didn't quite understand what the big deal was, but he sure didn't question it.

His eyes shifted from the ceiling to the closed door of his bedroom, his mind going but his body leaving it behind. He wouldn't do that to the Cooper's, whose only rule was that he stays in his own room…well, that and not to wear his beanie at dinner. One rule was easier than the other. He could maybe just go to the bathroom for a glass of water…stand next to her door…

"Way to be a creep," he whispered to himself with a shake of his shaggy head. "It wouldn't be creepy if I went in, would it?" he followed, trapping his bottom lip in his teeth. "Maybe see if she's okay?" Of course, he knew she'd be just fine, but it sounded like a reasonable excuse if anyone asked.

Before he knew what he was doing, his hands pulled at the duvet, removing it from his legs. He swung his feet onto the floor, feeling its coolness beneath him as he raised himself into a standing position. He didn't really fight the pull that made him walk toward the door, especially not when his toe slammed into the side of his dresser.

"Oh, sh-weet maple syrup!" he whispered loudly, reaching down to massage his now-sore toe. "Damn it." He should have taken this as a sign to get his ass back to bed, but he was determined to check in on Betty. Yes, that was what he wanted to do—check in on her. He dropped his foot and continued the few paces to the door, opening it carefully and sticking his head out of the doorway, looking specifically for any Cooper's not named Betty. He was certain the gun Betty had told him about once was still at the ready, and he didn't want to be the target.

When he saw nothing other than an empty hallway, he quietly and carefully stepped out into the hall and closed his door behind him with the smallest of squeaks. He'd have to ask Archie if he had any spray for that tomorrow. He stepped silently as he could closer to Betty's bedroom door, his eyes scanning the darkness as he approached. He used two knuckles to knock softly.

"Betty?" he whispered, "are you awake?"

There was no answer at first, so he went to knock again. Just as his fingers brushed the wood of the door, it opened, and he felt himself being yanked in by his shirt. He stumbled briefly before he whirled around, watching as Betty closed the door and turned to him.

"Are you asking to get kicked out?" she whispered harshly, her hand going to her slender throat to play with her necklace. "If mom finds you in here, you'll be out of here so fast, Juggie."

A smug smile crept across Jughead's face. He couldn't help it. "I guess that's the FP in me," he replied with a shrug. "What's life if you can't take risks?"

He watched Betty as she shook her blonde hair, walking around him to sit on the side of her bed. "If you get kicked out, you'll have to go live with that foster family, Jughead. You've got it good here."

He dropped the smile and understood that she was upset. "I'm sorry, Betts," he apologized. "This was stupid." He made to turn around, but Betty reached out a hand and grabbed him by the wrist.

"I can't sleep, Jug," she admitted. "Stay with me?"

"Didn't you just—"

"You're already here," she replied softly. "May as well make it count." She pulled him by his handcuffed wrist to sit beside her. "If you get caught, at least you have a parting gift," she added with a delicate laugh, letting go of his wrist.

He didn't laugh, though. He was concerned. She wasn't sleeping. He hadn't really noticed it before she said anything, but she seemed off lately. Now it made sense.

"What's going on, Betty?" he asked, bringing a hand up to cup her chin, making her look at him. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

Her eyes locked with his in the dimness of her room, and he saw for the first time that worry slid across her features with such intensity that it broke the sweet porcelain of her skin, dimpling it as her brows furrowed. She looked so young and innocent; as if the confident Betty he knew had been sucked out of her and replaced with a doe-in-headlights Betty.

He sighed and dropped her chin from his palm, scooting back on her bed and positioning himself so that his back rested against her headboard. "Come here," he told her, tapping the space beside him. "Tell me what's wrong, Betts. Let's see how I can help."

She didn't hesitate. She turned and scooted herself beside him, resting her head on his chest. She felt his hand wrap around her shoulder, his fingers nimbly playing with a stray strand of hair that lay limply across her cheek. She found an interesting spot on his shirt to pick at nervously.

"It's stupid, Juggie."

"Well, lucky for you, I know stupid pretty well. Tell me why you are having trouble sleeping." He was upset with himself that he hadn't seen it earlier. On the other hand, Betty was very adept at hiding things deep within her. He felt her laugh against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head and waited for her to speak.

"What if your mom comes back to Riverdale?" Her hand stilled on his shirt. "What if she comes back and wants you to move to Toledo with her? What if she changes her mind and makes you leave?"

He stopped playing with the strand of hair and wrapped his arm around her slim waist pulling her tightly against him. He wouldn't tell her that the thought crossed his mind, and he wouldn't tell her she shouldn't worry—he knew better than to tell Betty Cooper not to do something. He sighed softly. He took a moment to inhale the sweet smell of her strawberry shampoo, pulling his other hand to entwine with her fingers resting on his chest, rubbing her slim, soft knuckles gently.

"You're scared I'm going to leave?"

"Well…" she trailed off.

"Why would I leave?" he replied. "There's nothing in Toledo that I would want to go for. I mean, mom and Jellybean…" he trailed off, his thoughts returning to his little sister whom he adored. "I love them, they're my family, but I have family here, too. I have people who…"

"Love you," she finished, lifting herself from his chest and looking up at him. "I love you, and I don't want you to think that I am against you going with your mom and Jellybean if they'd come for you. It's just…"

"I know," he told her softly, bringing his thumb up to stroke her jawline. "We could always do the Polly," he added with a smile. "You know, run away? Go somewhere without anyone knowing?"

"Except I'm not pregnant," she responded with seriousness, "and you're not running drugs."

"Yeah, there is that…" His smile dropped off his face as he took in that his attempt at humor only made her even more upset. "Listen to me, Elizabeth Cooper," he moved his face inches from hers, his hot breath warming her skin, "I promise you that I will never leave you. Do you understand? In fact," he said, the smile reappearing on his face, "if I wanted to leave, I wouldn't have taken your mom and dad's offer. I can do without your mom using two syllables to say my name, Betts."

She said nothing for a moment, her eyes watching the dim light from her window reflect across the bed and their faces. He didn't move, his body stuck like taffy against her. Without really thinking about it, Betty fisted a bit of his shirt and pulled him the few inches in took to close the gap between their faces, her full lips pressing against his. The warmth and softness of her lips were contrasted with the roughness of his, and the taste of her cherry Chapstick coated both their mouths. A shiver rode down her back as her hand found its way to wind in his voluminous hair, pulling him harder against her. When they finally separated, both were gasping for air, and Jughead was licking the Chapstick from his mouth with his tongue.

"I guess I put your mind at ease?"

She trapped her lower lip between her teeth and nodded. "A little."

Jughead looked at the door of her bedroom and back at her, torn, but knowing he had to go. He leaned in and kissed her softly on the cheek, then the tip of the nose, and then her soft lips, and slid from the bed.

"Good night, Betty," he whispered, tip-toeing to her door.

"Good night, Juggie," she called out softly, sleepily. "Thanks for checking in on me."

He blew her a kiss and carefully made his way back to his room. He could swear that when he made it halfway through the hall, that he could hear Betty's soft snores emanating from her room. He got into his own bed and looked up at the ceiling once more. This time, his body was tired, but his mind was working.

He had everything he wanted here in Riverdale; a home, a loving and supportive girlfriend, friends…

This is the most he's been loved in his whole life.

He smiled.

With noise still in his head, he slipped off into a gentle sleep and dreamed of one Betty Cooper.