Line break means a change in POV.


Jughead awoke to the feeling of the warm sun on his back. The room was cozy and borderline stuffy due to the closed window and the running heater. But Jughead didn't mind that his thin, white curtains barely kept out the strong December sun or that he felt slightly suffocated under the thickness of his duvet because wrapped in his arms, with strawberry scented hair, was Betty Cooper, the curve of her back fitting perfectly and comfortably into the arch of his chest. Sex, it seemed, was just what they had needed to tip them over the edge of exhaustion as they fell asleep, tangled in each other's arms. Jughead hoped the moment would never end; he hoped he would never have to let go of the beautiful girl he was holding. But, as all good things must come to an end, after allowing their breathing to fall into rhythm, the heat began getting to him and he knew he needed to turn down the heater.

Gently and reluctantly, he removed himself from her, hating every moment of the separation (she even shifted once, nuzzling closer to him, making him rethink the entire situation), he pulled on boxers and made his way to the heater, turning it down a few notches. He then stood, watching her sleep for a few moments – she was an image of serenity when she slept. Her lips were parted ever so slightly and her hair insisted on falling perfectly about her face, continuing to frame it as if she were awake. One of her palms was upturned on the pillow and the other faced downwards right beside it. Her eyelashes fluttered sometimes and her left eyebrow would raise on its own sometimes following which her brow furrowed into a frown. But this was all momentary and she would return to previous serenity without any hindrance.

He wondered what she was dreaming about. And he wondered if he was featured in her dreams. He also wondered if she would ever tell him about the little red marks on her palm in the shape of crescent moons. He had failed to notice her hands until now, but with the palm upturned, he couldn't help but wonder how long the scars had been there.

It was a while before he could bring himself to look away and move away from the bed, going into the bathroom and brushing his teeth, instead. He pulled on one of his t-shirts he had hung behind the door before leaving and then walked out, stole one last glance at her, and then exited his room, taking great care to shut the door as quietly as possible behind him.

He almost didn't notice Veronica sitting with one leg thrown over the other, on the breakfast bar, sipping coffee in one of Archie's shirts. To her credit, she seemed just as stunned to see him.

"Hey Veronica, no offence, but what the fuck are you doing here?" Jughead asked, his filter nonexistent as sleep was still working its way out of his system.

"Good morning to you too, Jones. I was out of coffee," she said, holding up the mug as evidence of her need for caffeine.

"And clothes, apparently," he mumbled, pouring himself whatever was left in the pot and taking a thankful sip. Veronica simply narrowed her eyes at him.

"Wait, if you're back… is Betty back too?" Mentioning Betty woke him up much faster than caffeine could have possibly hoped to do. Luckily, she didn't seem to have noticed. "If she is, tell her that I'm the reason she still has her bag because for some reason it was laying outside your apartment and I saw it on my way back from my parents' place last night. Hey, Jughead, why was Betty's bag laying outside your door last night?" Although her tone was innocent, her eyes glinted with mischief.

"Oh yeah, we have the same bag. She must have taken mine by mistake and was just dropping it off, I guess," he lied casually, maintaining eye contact as all practiced liars were supposed to do.

"Really? Well that's odd considering she has 'Property of Elizabeth Cooper' labeled on its side."

Because of course Betty Cooper uses labels to protect her stuff. Jughead now was running out of excuses.

"Well then I don't know, Veronica. Maybe you should ask Betty. Oh wait, you can't: Reggie has her running errands for him already," again he tried his hand at lying and, this time, Veronica seemed to buy it. Although, Jughead suspected, it probably had more to do with the mention of Reggie in the same sentence as Betty than anything else. They fell into an awkward silence while Jughead sipped his coffee, anxious to fiddle with something.

"Did she tell you?" Veronica asked, breaking the silence. He looked at her for a moment before nodding, watching her face fall momentarily before she recomposed herself. "How is she?"

"Fine, I think. She said it was weird but didn't say much after that," he felt himself reddening at the memory of what did follow the admission of weirdness. He couldn't tell if Veronica was hurt or relieved, but he could tell that she was keeping her face carefully casual.

"Great," she finally said, nodding, "I'm glad she's fine. If you see her, can you ask her to call me? I have this New Year's thing to plan and I could really use her help with the planning."

"Absolutely," he replied, and she smiled.

"Thanks, Jughead," she gave him a warm smile before hopping off the counter, and making her way to the front door. "Oh, and for what it's worth, Archie didn't tell Betty because he didn't know how she would react and he feels like she's been really distant from him lately." Jughead instantly felt defensive of Betty, thinking that that was no excuse to not tell her – especially since she received so much shit for withholding personal information (Veronica hadn't spoken to her for a day when she found out about Trev taking Betty out) time and time again. This just made him wonder if he would soon be on the receiving end of a silent treatment too, when Veronica and Archie inevitably found out about Boston and what followed.

"I'll tell her," he decided it wasn't his place to fight Veronica and figured that Betty would want to do the fighting herself anyway. Especially since seeing Betty angry was one of the scariest things Jughead had ever seen in real life. Veronica gave him another smile of gratitude and left, the door shutting and bringing with it silence. Jughead stood in the open kitchen, lost in thoughts about the weekend that had just passed and about silent treatments, when he realised that there was someone he was definitely going to be shunned by if he didn't tell them about Boston.

"Hello?" Jellybean sleepily said from the other end of the call and Jughead grinned, imagining his sister with her hair all over the place. Unlike Betty, Jellybean's hair had to be tamed into framing her face and therefore decided that, when she slept, it received full freedom to be as wild as it decided. Thinking about this made Jughead's heart ache for his sister.

"Morning."

"What do you want?" Already she sounded more awake and surprisingly hostile. Instinctively Jughead began a mental checklist of everything he had done in the last 24 hours, wondering where he had misstepped and pissed her off.

"Everything okay?"

"Depends on your definition. Maybe in your dictionary, okay means leaving your sister in the dark about you and Betty to the extent that she has to find out from a father you have been estranged from for the longest time, but hey that's not what it means in my vocabulary."

Of course she knows.

"JB…"

"Please do not bore me with apologies, big brother. Just tell me if it's true."

"It is," he said in a resigned tone and heard silence on the other end. He assumed it was due to the information sinking in and allowed it, waiting for her to speak. When the silence went on for too long, he was worried he had broken his sister (stunning Jellybean into silence was a feat no one had managed to achieve). "Jellybean?"

"Did you make the first move?"

"I did," the sigh that followed this was what pride sounded like in one word. He felt himself relax when he heard it because the exhale was followed by giggling.

"I'm so proud of you, Jughead!" She exclaimed, all past tension instantly forgotten. "Wow, when I said not to wait three years, I didn't realise you'd listen so well. Maybe I should give advice more often."

"You once told me to stick my hands in a blender so I'd appreciate that I had them and therefore be motivated to write."

"Yeah, but didn't you finish three chapters by midnight?"

"Yes, but-"

"I should give advice more often," she concluded and Jughead chuckled, deciding to agree.

"Okay, Forsythia, whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Shut up and tell me all about what happened," he could see her leaning forward, chin resting on her intertwined fingers, with the phone on speaker. With a content sigh, Jughead began, narrating the events before and on Christmas, his sister punctuating his story appropriately with gasps and squeals (particularly when he got to the balcony).

He wasn't sure how long he had spoken for, but by the time he finished, his throat was sore and 'Betty' didn't sound like a word anymore, much less a person.

"Well haven't you kids had quite the adventure?" Jellybean finally commented and Jughead chuckled.

"Only the best kind," he replied, and they fell into silence as he mulled over the events. It still felt like a dream. He didn't believe that if he walked into his bedroom right now, he would find Betty sleeping there, lips parted, palms upturned. And yet, the fact that in that moment this was his reality made him feel elated with joy.

"You sound happy, Jug," Jellybean pulled him out of his thoughts and he smiled to himself, nodding as he stood.

"I am, Jellybean. I really am."

"Good. You deserve it," she said with a sense of finality – the matter was closed, and in her mind him and Betty were together. Jughead had strategically left out the unlabeling part – he knew Jellybean wouldn't be happy about it and didn't want Betty to wake up to Jellybean flinging swears at her. "Well, big brother," mischief returned to her tone making Jughead groan internally, "now that you are finally with someone who doesn't treat you like crap – don't fight me, you know it was true – I must have you guys over for dinner sometime. I'd like to finally meet this Betty person, you know. I'd like to officially approve of her entering our lives."

"Our lives?"

"Jughead, we have always gone everywhere together and done everything together. There is no way in hell I am butting out of this. I didn't approve of Toni and see how that ended. Now, from what you've told me of Betty-"

"Maybe let's not do this at eight in the morning, JB?" He interrupted and could hear his sister's indignance on the other end at not only being interrupted but also being on the receiving end of a not-so-subtle goodbye. But, to his immense gratitude, he heard her give a resigned (albeit exaggerated) sigh.

"Fine. But I'm having you guys over on – oh! You could come for New Year's!"

"Pass. Veronica's having a thing, and Betty and I won't live to see another day if we miss it."

"Wow okay, I see where your priorities lie," mock hurt coloured her tone. "You've been with Betty a grand total of a day and already – Riverdale has changed you, big brother."

"How dare you," he played along and heard giggling from the direction of his bedroom. Looking up, he caught the eye of Betty, standing by the fridge, in his crown sweater, which was just long enough. Her hair was tousled but in the most adorable way and her eyes shone as she padded towards him, a wide smile on her face. She approached him and gave him a soft kiss, greeting him, with one hand caressing his cheek.

"Morning," she said and he grinned stupidly at her. Jughead could not believe how genuinely lucky he was to have this be a reality for him.

"JB, I gotta go," he said and heard his sister protest loudly on the other end. And, for the first time, instead of attempting to pacify her, Jughead simply hung up.

"Someone important?" Betty asked, her voice soft and alluring. She was standing close enough for him to feel her breath on his lips when she spoke.

"Just my manager," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers. It had been less than five minutes and already he found himself itching to pull his sweater off her and have her on the bar. The only thing that stopped him was how damn good she looked in his sweater.

"Coffee?" He asked, stuffing down his need and taking a step towards what he was now realising was an empty pot. Betty looked at him in amusement as his cheeks tinged pink. Under her scrutiny, he moved quickly and clumsily to put together some coffee for her. As he poured the beans into the grinder, she placed her hand on his, stopping his haste and allowing him to turn his attention to her again. She kissed him again, this time staying for much longer and pressing closer to him. To his mild embarrassment, Jughead felt himself harden and she broke the kiss at that moment, giving a soft chuckle and glancing down.

"I see someone else is up, too," she met his eyes again and, without pausing, he kissed her again, picking her up, onto the kitchen counter, in one swift movement. She giggled at this but the giggles soon gave way to soft sounds of agreement as he bit and sucked down her neck, her back arching and pushing her towards him. He was about to pull off the sweater when there was a loud banging on the door, making both of them jump like teenagers.

"Oh my god!" Betty exclaimed as Jughead whipped around to face the door.

"Is that Veronica?!" He asked rhetorically and saw Betty roll her eyes in his peripheral vision.

"Who else would it be?" She hopped off the counter as Jughead made his way to the door. She disappeared into his bedroom, shutting the door almost completely but with just enough space for her to hear who it was. Jughead stared at her for a moment in disbelief – he didn't think it was this inconceivable that she would be in his flat, even if it was rather early in the morning.

Opening the door revealed a red-haired, very disheveled, evidently exhausted Archie Andrews, entering the flat, suitcase in tow. Once inside, he looked at Jughead thankfully, his face dissolving into a grin as he threw himself onto Jughead, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"Jug! I'm back!" He announced a little too loud, right into Jughead's ear.

"Hey, Arch," he returned the greeting with considerably less enthusiasm, trying to pull himself out of the deadlock. "You're back early."

"I quit!" Archie exclaimed, and Jughead's eyes widened in shock.

"You what?"

"I quit my job, Jughead. I spoke to Cheryl last night, and she offered me a raise if I stayed, and I told her she could fuck off because I wanted to try my hand at music again. So, then, I quit!" He somewhat elaborated and Jughead could just imagine Cheryl turning as red as her hair with rage at this news.

"Wow, Archie. I'm… impressed," Jughead said, smiling at his friend with amusement while nervously glancing at Betty's bag laying on the ground behind him. Thanks to Archie's oblivious nature, he was too wrapped up in his own news to care about Jughead's evident tension. He simply nodded, clearly proud of himself for (finally) truly taking charge and pursuing his passion.

"Thanks, Jug. Anyway, I'm going to take a nap now – I don't want to keep your lady friend waiting for much longer."

"My what now?"

"Well unless your shoe size has magically shrunk I'm assuming those," he gestured to Betty's boots, "aren't yours." Jughead went slightly red and Archie chuckled. "Relax, man. I think this is good for you, you know? It means you're getting over Betty."

"Getting over who now?" Jughead suddenly realised the definition of incredulity in its entirety.

"Betty. Betty Cooper. Wow, this new girl must be doing quite a-"

"Stop, Archie. What do you mean getting over Betty?"

"Oh, Ronnie… you know what? Nevermind. Important thing is, you had a thing for her and now you don't," he said and Jughead opened and shut his mouth a few times, searching for a way to respond to this. "Anyway, I gotta take a nap now – I'm exhausted. If Cheryl calls, don't pick up. Night!"

"Night," Jughead replied in broad daylight, still stunned at what had happened. He was trying to recall everything he had ever done around Archie and Veronica – trying to remember how it had been so painfully obvious that he had liked Betty.


Betty awoke in a foreign bed, the pillow beside her dented but empty. For a moment she panicked, wondering where she was before the memories flooded back. She relaxed under the blanket, a smile slowly curving her lips before she rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling for a few moments. She could hear voices coming from outside and, after a moment of intently listening, realised Jughead was talking to Jellybean. She liked listening to him talk to his sister – it was the only time he wasn't guarded in the least. They spoke easily and it often made Betty's heart ache for when she had that level of ease with Polly.

After Boston, it only hurt more.

She stayed in bed, listening to the way Jughead told their story, noticing that he left out the "no hard feelings, no obligations" aspect and wondering why. She heard him laugh casually at something Jellybean had said and, after the last two days, she found herself wishing for such laughter. Unconsciously, tears pricked her eyes and she blinked furiously, sitting up quickly and making her way to the bathroom. She found an extra toothbrush in the "medicine cabinet" and used it, only then realising that they had left her bag outside all night. This only added more tension to her already heavy heart and, when she finally stepped out of the bedroom, her eye landed on her bag sitting near the door. The immediate flood of relief lasted for a grand total of two seconds before promptly being replaced with further casual conversation between Jughead and his sister.

"Pass. Veronica's having a thing, and Betty and I won't live to see another day if we miss it," he said, and Betty chuckled at the accuracy of their fates should they dare miss Veronica's New Year's party - she assumed that's what they were talking about.

She finally stepped out from behind the fridge, deciding she needed a distraction, something Jughead was more than ready to provide, it seemed. That was, until the distraction came in the form of someone trying to break down the front door, making her nearly jump out of her skin. She instinctively disappeared into the bedroom and caught Jughead's look of confusion and disbelief at her movements. She listened for a moment, hearing Archie's voice, and her eyes widened. More than once she glanced at the window to the fire escape beside Jughead's bedroom but found herself too frozen in spot to actually make a move to leave. Instead she sat in his sweater, waiting for Archie to storm into Jughead's room and find her in his roommate's crown sweater which fell just a little over her thighs.

The door opened, making Betty's heart beat almost too fast for a moment, before Jughead stepped in. She sighed and gave a laugh of relief. He noticed her and he seemed momentarily surprised to see her there – as if he had already forgotten she was there. Then slowly his confusion dissolved into a smile as he approached the bed and lay down.

"This has been way too much drama for a week, Betty," he said, and she lay down beside him, propping herself up on one elbow, grinning in agreement. "Archie quit his job."

"What?" Never in a million years had Betty imagined Archie "I am definitely going to quit today" Andrews actually quitting.

"Yeah. He wants to pursue music instead," Jughead elaborated, and Betty's eyebrows rose.

"Well who would've thought," she dropped her elbow, laying down and staring at the ceiling too. She felt Jughead's fingers playing with hers and smiled again. They lay in silence, enjoying each other's company, very aware of the every tiny movement that happened in the room. Betty loved it. She loved that they were able to fall into comfortable silences this way, thinking their own thoughts, wondering what the other was thinking about while simultaneously being content in not knowing.

She watched the sunlight dance on the ceiling – it was a beautiful day. Maybe the beauty was augmented with how amazing she felt in the moment. For the first time in a while, she realised, she wasn't worried about anything. And it was thanks to the person laying beside her, mirroring her calm, and allowing himself to be open. It had only been a few months but already she couldn't imagine having never met Jughead.

"Hey," he murmured up at the ceiling, not looking at her. She wondered if he had heard her thoughts about how happy she was that he was in her life. "Do you want to go get some coffee at Pop's? I'm starving."

"Sure," she replied with a giggle. It was only when he mentioned it that she was aware of her own hunger. They hadn't eaten anything since Polly's lunch. "I need to take a shower, though."

"Oh yeah, me too. You want to go first?" He asked, sitting up and looking at her. She held out her arm and he pulled her up so she was sitting up too. The question was simply convention – he expected her to go first. "I'll get your bag."

"What?"

"So, apparently, in the intensity of last night, we left your bag outside the flat and Veronica dropped it off in the morning," he replied and Betty bit her lip, imagining that conversation.

"Speaking of, if she asks – we have the same bag and you thought you had taken mine up instead of yours so you brought it back. But you were wrong."

"And Veronica bought that excuse? You know I label all my stuff right?" Betty stared at him in amusement. She could just see how flustered he must've gotten, trying to explain why her bag was laying outside his flat.

"Yeah I just told her that Reggie had you running errands for him. I guess mentioning your boss and her ex shut her up," he replied with a grin. "Anyway, you can go get in the shower and I'll get your bag."

"Okay," she made her way into the bathroom, turning on the tower and allowing the water to run over her hand until it reached the perfect temperature. She slipped out of his sweater and was then struck by a thought. She waited for a moment, hearing the bedroom door shut, signaling Jughead's return, and opened the door wide. "Hey, Jug?" His back was to her as he folded some clothes.

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking… if two people shower at the same time, it conserves water, don't you think?" She watched him freeze before he slowly turned around, speechless as his eyes took her in from top to bottom. She giggled, enjoying this attention.

"You want to have shower sex… for the environment?"

"I'm just saying. It saves water," she shrugged. "But, hey," she stepped back, closing the door a little but still enough for him to see and unclasping her bra, "if you'd rather waste this valuable resource-" the door flew open as Jughead struggled to get out of his boxers while opening the door, nearly falling over in the process. Upon success, Betty clapped sarcastically, the clapping interrupted by Jughead kissing her.

"Gotta help the environment, right?" He murmured against her lips.

"That's exactly what I thought," she replied and kissed him again.

An hour later, the couple strolled into Pop's, the bell tinkling overhead as they entered. The diner was near empty, with Dan behind the counter, reading a magazine, clearly bored out of his mind. He glanced up when he saw them enter and, without saying a word, went back to flicking through the pages. Jughead's smile at the conversation he and Betty had been having up to that point immediately disappeared when he saw the lack of hospitality with which they were greeted. Betty, although agreeing, put a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from telling Dan off. They approached the counter and, when Dan still didn't give them the time of day, Betty had to brush her hand against Jughead's to prevent him from getting mad. Things were going so well today and Betty would be damned if she let the likes of Dan ruin it.

"Welcome to Pop's Chock-Lit Shoppe, my name is Daniel, how may I help you?" He rattled off in an unwelcoming monotone.

"You can start by actually looking at your customers, Dan," Jughead replied through gritted teeth, and Dan, with an annoyed sigh, looked at them. A second passed, and he raised his eyebrows once, repeating the question wordlessly. Betty could tell that Jughead was a hair's breadth away from jumping over the counter and strangling him, so she quickly diffused the situation.

"Two coffees, please. We're having them here," he nodded, and she pulled Jughead away from the counter, leading him to their booth and ensuring that he was on the side without a view of Dan. Once they settled in, his eyes were still flitting and she could tell he was itching to tell Dan off. "Tell you what," she said, taking his hand on the table. He met her eyes, "you can tell him off right before we leave. That way, he can't do anything about it, too."

The smile he gave her was one of the widest she had seen him don yet.

"Okay," he replied, tracing circles on the back of her hand. "So, Betty," he began, and she cocked her head to a side curiously – she hadn't realised that there was an ulterior motive to getting coffee, "Since we're… well… doing this – whatever it is – I feel like we should get to know each other. You know, minus the deep past trauma that we already know about each other," he said 'past trauma' dismissively and Betty chuckled, nodding. Simultaneously, though, she could feel a wall coming up and so, withdrawing her hand, leaning back, and crossing her arms, she raised an eyebrow. She noticed his momentary frown at her change in demeanor. "You okay?"

"Yeah, no, everything's fine," she shook her head, attempting at reassurance unsuccessfully.

"I agree. So… shoot. What do you want to know, Jughead Jones?" He leaned back too, sunlight streaking across his face through the window beside them. The sunlight highlighted his eyes, making the blue more striking than it already was.

"Okay… when did you decide to become a journalist?" He asked, and she nearly sighed with relief – she had expected a much deeper question. She hadn't expected him to be serious when he had said he wouldn't mention past trauma.

"In high school. In sophomore year, I restarted the school newspaper with the help of Kevin and Veronica, and people actually started reading it again," she replied, and he nodded, a small smile on his face. "When did you know you wanted to be a writer?"

"The same, actually. In high school I was, well, going through some stuff and I started writing about it, except I made this character up instead of writing it about myself, and that's when I knew I wanted to write," he replied with a shrug and Betty's brow furrowed. She wasn't daring enough to ask what "stuff" he had been going through. "So, to move on to lighter topics, favourite colour?" She laughed at the simplicity of the question, considering what it had followed and shrugged.

"I don't think I have one?"

"No favourite colour? That's bullshit, Betty. Everyone has a favourite colour."

"What can I tell you? I don't believe in discriminating between colours," she replied with a coy smile, and he narrowed his eyes at her for a moment before chuckling at the ground.

"Well, I do. I love green," somehow, Betty had never expected green to be the answer. She had expected a darker colour like dark blue or, to be true to his character, black.

"Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"No, it's just – actually yes. I thought it would be something… darker," she admitted, and he laughed again.

"If you had asked me a few months ago, it might have been. But Riverdale is such a green town, I guess the colour just spoke to me."

"As poetic as always," Betty laughed as the coffees arrived.


Jughead didn't know how to tell her that the green he was talking about was not the green of Riverdale but the green of her eyes. He had almost too many times now lost himself in them, just gazing. He was midway through a chapter when he had changed the eye colour of his protagonist – something Jellybean hadn't approved of.

Luckily, he found, he didn't have to further explain (for he was sure word vomit would lead him to drop some pretentious line like "the green of your eyes puts leaves to shame in the height of summer") as the coffees came. Dan, sticking with his belief in monotony asked them if they wanted anything else and looked like he was going to kill Jughead when he asked for eggs. He shot even more daggers when Betty asked for pancakes, making her recoil slightly and almost rescind her order before Jughead said "that's all", effectively sending him away.

"I'm going to talk to Pop about him," he made a resolution once Dan was out of earshot and she laughed.

"You do that," she agreed, taking a sip of her coffee, a smile of pure serenity following this. "This is amazing."

So are you.

"So," she said, putting down the coffee, "what was college like?" She asked, and Jughead had flashbacks of a locker full of whipped cream and finding his bag in the pool. He had hated the entire education system since kindergarten, and when he managed to get his first book published at twenty, dropped out as he was financially independent.

"What do you mean you want to leave?" His sister asked in a frenzy, nearly dropping the brand new porcelain vase that she didn't need.

"I mean, I have the money. Come on, JB, I'm going to learn so much more from travelling than from sitting in a boring classroom all day!"

"But… where will you go?"

"I don't know! Isn't that exciting! The world is our oyster. You know what?" He pulled the world map she kept on the wall off and put it down in front of her. Jellybean tended to buy a lot of things she didn't need and this was the first time Jughead was glad about it. "Point anywhere and that's where we'll go."

"We?"

"You didn't think I was going to go alone, did you?" She smiled softly, almost bashfully, at his incredulity before turning back to the map. Closing her eyes, she pointed to the Philippines.

"Manila, here we come," he said when she opened her eyes. Picking her up, he spun her around once in his excitement as she laughed loudly. And so their travels began.

"To put it simply, I dropped out once I was published," he replied, and Betty laughed. "Sure my first book wasn't too good and didn't sell really well, but it gave me enough money to travel, and at the end of the day, isn't that really the dream?"

"Well, I wouldn't know," she said, glancing at the ground, and Jughead's brow furrowed. "I've never traveled just for the heck of it. I'm the kind of person who makes a checklist of everything she wants to see before going anywhere. It's just one of the things my parents taught me – if you're going to go somewhere, make sure you have an objective. Anyway, I've never had the kind of money to take random vacations," she shrugged, and Jughead instantly felt bad. He hadn't meant to flaunt his wealth, he had simply meant to answer her questions.

"I'm sorry, Betts. I didn't mean to show off that I had money or something."

"No! Obviously you didn't mean that! Oh god, no, Juggie, I don't feel bad about that. It just, it sounds amazing to go to places without having any idea what to expect. I was just saying, I could never do it," she hastily explained and he nodded, unsure that this was truly how she felt. However, just so that he'd sleep better, he decided to believe her.

"How was your college?" He asked, and she shrugged.

"Fine. Veronica was in the same city and ensured that we all stayed in touch. Her and Archie are the only friendship I know which has survived long distance. But I'm pretty sure that's because her family is rolling in money and her parents thought Archie was good for her so they were more than ready to pay for her to fly to the other coast as and when she pleased. They also gave a ton of money to her university so that she couldn't be kicked out for missing so many classes. Suffice to say, I didn't have such luxuries. Sometimes I went with her but mostly I just stayed in my room, reading."

"Not much of a socialite?" He asked, amusement colouring his tone.

"Oh god no. I had the bare minimum social life I needed to survive," she replied with a laugh. "Just did whatever work I had to and graduated as valedictorian four years later."

"Impressive," he nodded in appreciation.

"Predictable," she scoffed in response, "I had to be perfect, right? It would have been inconceivable to not be valedictorian." Jughead had heard Betty use a variation of emotions but never bitterness. He had heard anger, annoyance, frustration, fury, but never bitterness. And yet, the amount of bitterness with which she spoke of her college experience left him curious. And yet he couldn't find the words to ask for further details.

"Did you leave your parents to get away from this idea of you that they had?" He asked, and she looked at him curiously, as if she couldn't believe that someone was actually asking.

"Partly. My mom basically said they hired me due to nepotism. She said-" she paused, licking her lips as she plucked up the courage to continue. "She said I wasn't good enough to get work anywhere else. And, what do you know? She was right. Instead of writing, I'm getting coffee, and picking up dry cleaning, and-"

"Hey," instantly he took her hands, tightening his grip when he felt her pull away. "I know you've shown me a tiny, tiny portion of your writing, but Betty Cooper, you are one of the best writers I've ever met, okay? And don't let anyone tell you otherwise," he was being sincere – he didn't usually like the journalistic style of writing but he hadn't been able to put down the articles Betty had written. Searching his eyes for any sign of dishonesty, Betty finally nodded when she found none.

"Thank you, Jug," she replied and he loosened his grip but she didn't remove her hands.

"So, are you a dog or cat person?" He asked and she laughed, the tinkling sound removing the tension that had enveloped the booth.

"Dogs. You?"

"Dogs all the way," he replied, and that was when the food arrived.

"Anything else?" Dan's monotony made a reappearance, and Jughead had to stop himself from stabbing Dan's neck with a fork. Betty simply watched him in amusement as he glared at an incredibly oblivious Dan.

"No, thanks, Dan. Oh, FYI, you're not getting a tip," Betty said, and Jughead looked at her, surprised. Dan's monotony disappeared in a second and he stared at Betty in shock.

"What?" He spluttered, and Betty smirked.

"The diner is empty. You have no reason to be such a bitch to your customers. So, unless you literally kiss our ass in the next few minutes, we are not tipping such a pathetic employee," she turned her attention to Jughead. "I think that's fair?"

"Absolutely," Jughead grinned, feeling his heart swell with pride at her action. He realised that, as long as he wasn't the object of her rage, watching her be angry at people had a very high entertainment value. Especially since the recipients of her wrath tended to look like they were just about ready to shit themselves. And seeing Dan in this position was particularly entertaining since Jughead felt no sympathy for him. As Dan slowly processed what had just happened, his mouth stretched into the most painful smile Jughead had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

"Can I interest you guys in today's sundae of the day? On the house?" Dan asked through gritted teeth and Betty gave a gracious smile.

"You're too kind, Dan. Yes, we would like one of those," she replied and Dan nodded. "After we're done with our breakfast."

"Of course," Dan said, shooting Jughead a smile too for good measure before disappearing.

"Ice cream for breakfast?" Jughead asked once Dan had left and Betty shrugged.

"When people give you free food, you take it. So, where we were? Oh yeah, have you ever had a dog?"

They spent the remainder of the morning eating and talking in the diner. Betty had to go to Veronica's for the rest of the day, so Jughead was going to make the most of his time with her. He wished they could spend the whole day in the booth just talking about nothing and everything. Good god, he loved listening to her. To watch her tell stories. Just to notice the little things – the gestures she used, the exact intonation of her laugh, the way she casually used phrases like "you know?" even when she knew he didn't because it was her story. The way she tried to constantly draw him into her world.

The way she let him be a little part of her giant world.

His internal monologue used "forever" too many times when she spoke.