Part two! Don't worry, it gets better

It had been years since Jughead had been in her bedroom. When they were ten, they would talk for hours. The blonde, the redhead, and the one hiding under a hat. Thinking back, Betty recalled that she and Archie had done most of the talking.

Oh Archie, her first ever crush. He was so hot, so sweet, and also her best friend. Her eyes found their way to the other window, the one directly across from Archie's room. She remembered dancing with him at Homecoming, his arms around her waist. . .

"He still loves you," a voice said from behind her. She jumped, remembering that Jug was there. She turned.

"What?"

"I said he still loves you. It's just not the same way you love him. I know how you feel." She looked at him suspiciously.

"You do?" He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He closed it, then opened it again.

Shit Jones, way to screw things up. He tried to distract her, saying "Well you know, he's your best friend. That doesn't make him your soulmate. You'll find that person one day unless, of course, you already know them." He said the last bit under his breath. She walked to the window and looked out at the Andrews' house.

"I guess you're right Jug. It just hurts. I just thought that maybe because we grew up together, he would see me the way that I see him." He frowned, but she couldn't see it, thankfully.

"And what way is that Betts?" She looked over her shoulder at him.
"Betts? Since when were you one to make nicknames, Jug?" He moved towards her as she sighed and looked back to the window. "I see him as the person who is nothing but kind. We could be the best power couple in the world. It's stupid, but I always have seen us as more than friends. Those besties that would grow up and then live in the same house. Get married, have kids, make peace with the world. But when he rejected me, all of those dreams withered and died. And I know that we are only teens, but it just feels like if he doesn't love me after all these years, he never will." She pressed her forehead to the glass.

"Betty." He whispered under his breath, "Betty." She turned around to face him.

"Yes, Jug?" He put his hand to the side of her face.

"Don't worry about being loved. I know someone who will love you until the day they die." She looked at him in disbelief.

"And who, pray tell, is that?" He brought his lips close to her ear and whispered, "Me." Then he gently pressed his lips to those of the one and only Betty Cooper.

He moved closer and closer until she could feel his breath on her face. She inhaled deeply and was sent back to the days spent in Archie's treehouse. Jughead's calming smell always there as the three of them played. One word broke through her memories.

Me.

A pressure on her lips dragged her back to the present. She opened her eyes to completely understand what was going on. There was Jug, right in front of her. Pressing his lips to hers. His hands holding her head.

Betty blinked.

Something in her heart moved, connected with the pieces around it.

Seconds dragged as her soul finally felt whole. Her heart stopped as her mind sent her back through years of time spent with Jug. Times that she had ignored before because she was too focused on Archie.

Jug always walking with her to class, a solid shoulder to cry on, a person that listened, no matter the story. His lips were soft on her mouth. It was just a faint whisper of a kiss, not too hard, not forced, just perfect. Then came the future. Him holding her while she cried about a fight, kissing her goodnight, waking her up in the mornings, letting her wear his sacred hat to bed. It was wonderful. She never wanted it to end.

But then his heat was gone.