Matilda, you talk of the pain like it's all alright But I know that you feel like a piece of you's dead insidе You showed me a power that is strong еnough to bring sun to the darkest days It's none of my business, but it's just been on my mind

You can let it go You can throw a party full of everyone you know And not invite your family 'cause they never showed you love You don't have to be sorry for leavin' and growin' up You can see the world, following the seasons Anywhere you go, you don't need a reason 'Cause they never showed you love You don't have to be sorry for doin' it on your own

Her grin was courteous but forced, and it didn't quite reach her eyes. This was done to conceal her astonishment at jughead's constant presence and her effort to find some kind of middle ground in terms of cordial behavior toward him after she had been so unkind to him in light of recent occurrences. Betty hadn't quite found a way to verbalize her gratitude for everything he'd done; she'd hardly allowed herself even a second to process everything that had happened. Let alone the pivotal role he'd taken on in looking after her and her entire family. Betty hadn't quite found a way to verbalize her gratitude for everything he'd done. She shifted awkwardly on her feet, removing the strap of her purse from her shoulder as she set her bag down on the couch cushion against the armrest. Slowly shedding one layer at a time as she readjusted to the warmth of her own living room as opposed to the pervasive sterile chill of hospital rooms. She was relieved to be home. After he had finished speaking, his eyelids began to flutter closed for a brief time. This was an expression of forgetfulness with a hint of self-berating for having not remembered the sheer number of casseroles, phone calls, and cards that had flooded their doorstep ever since the news of almost getting captured again had spread to every corner of the town. "I'm hoping that today's serving was tastier than yesterday's," Betty said. She continued on sarcastically, a tinge of dark humor bridging the lost gap between them as her eyes darted immediately to meet his. She was trying to make up for lost ground between them. Betty was aware that the upper-middle-class residents of Riverdale did not know anything other than to share dishes with their families in the event of a catastrophe or disaster in the hopes of alleviating the real anguish and suffering.

It was the proper thing to do to store the meals that would lie untouched until they reached their expiration date. Betty added to the mental list of tasks she needed to do the inevitable task of cleaning out the refrigerator before she could return home to heal. There would be no tempting heavy carbohydrates or unhealthy cholesterols on her watch to be detected. She let out a long, irritated sigh as he went back into the kitchen to pursue something that she was unaware of. Her grin didn't become more real until he emerged wearing the knit beanie she'd seen him wear throughout her whole life. Before that, it was fake. It was subtle, barely detectable, yet even from his distance, it was utterly impossible to miss when it came to the one and only person who knew how to watch her and truly see what she was feeling. He was the only one who knew how to protect her and really see what she was experiencing. Once the key was discovered, Betty's mannerisms and facial expressions made it crystal clear what she was feeling or, more accurately, what she was trying to keep herself from feeling. Betty's emotions were always hidden behind a thin veil of code, but it was impossible to misunderstand what she was going through once the code was broken.

She felt her hand sliding unconsciously to his jacket, and she lay a palm over it almost protectively to prevent him from reaching for it just yet. As he declared his approaching departure, the look changed to a worn stoicism, and she realized that her hand was moving to it instinctively. "To Tell You the Truth, I Was Thinking.." Her words came out laboriously and slowly as she fought against her own lack of bravery to seek his companionship. "Would it be possible for you to stay for a little while?" Even while it was evident that she was exercising significant control over her tone of voice, she nevertheless managed to sound quite timid at that moment, with eyes wide open and full of begging hope. Betty had an impossible feeling that she didn't belong, that nothing felt right, and that his company seemed to be the only thing that was keeping her from the fearful thoughts of loneliness and isolation. Even though the firelight and the cozy atmosphere of Alice's plush living room made it feel like the perfect place in the world to be.

"If I were to eat... Since yesterday, I haven't had anything to eat or drink." She confessed it while lowering her eyes in embarrassment as she counted the number of cups of coffee that she had been relying on as her source of fuel rather than anything that provided actual nourishment or substance. "Is there any possibility that there are any leftovers of that chicken noodle casserole?"