Gender: Female
Age: 31
Sign:
Pisces
Country: United States
Signup Date:
July 12, 2018
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01/24/2022 11:13 PM
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Seventeen.
Seventeen Betty knows exactly what she's getting herself into when she sees Jughead and the Jones trailer in the junkyard. She slams the door open and takes a glance around. There's lab equipment all over the place. The chemical odor is overwhelming when she initially breaths in and sits painfully harsh in her nostrils. Jughead is sunk deep into the couch to her right; his head dropped in his hands.
The deafening quiet, the tragic reality of all this entails, is deafening. Betty is shell-shocked and unsure about what to do next. She wants to run up to him, hug him, and reassure him that everything will be OK; they've been through worse before. But she's not so sure this time.
The content of his comment doesn't surprise her; none of this is indeed fair, and none of it is anything they should be dealing with. The fact that Jughead says anything at all surprised her. No one admits it, no one dares to say it, but Jughead was dealt the worst hand of all. They may both be on shaky ground right now, but he's always been dangerous.
Not when his mother abandoned him, and he was homeless and without regular meals; not when his father was charged with murder, then put away for murder; not when Betty spent all of second through fourth grade lying about the cost of lunch so she could buy too many snacks with her sandwich and claim she wasn't hungry when she offered them to Jughead. not when he was initiated into When he comes dangerously close to dying for the sake of their town's peace.
She moves closer to him, grabbing his trembling hands in her own and pulling them to her waist. Before settling, his fingers flex against the ribbed hem of her sweater and the exposed strip of skin beneath it. His heartbeat resonates through his fingertips, traveling into her flesh till they beat in lockstep. Betty hears his sigh of relief in the same fraction of a second that she feels them fall in rhythm, one of those insignificant details that seem impossible to detect in the grand scheme of things.
It's everything to her. It's a reminder that Jughead is her partner in all of this, to the point that their bodies are even aware of it. She knows he feels it too, albeit to a lesser extent in their day-to-day interactions, but more so now, in the heavier, more perplexing moments when he needs anchoring. She can see the tears in his eyes and knows they're the same as hers. Nowadays, it seems like someone is constantly sobbing. Or they want to weep if they aren't already.
"Juggie?" His gaze is locked on a location behind her head. When she follows his gaze, she notices the area where his "Rebel Without a Cause" poster used to hang. "How did it get here in the first place? When did our lives shift from being concerned about who would sit next to us on the bus to being concerned about drug lord mothers?" Betty winces, "And serial killer fathers.As well as uncontrollable cults,"
She holds his face in her hands and gently guides it to meet hers, wiping away some of the tears with her thumb. Before dipping down to kiss her, Jughead relaxes, even more, pressing his cheek into her hand and shutting his eyes. It's only a few seconds, but she can sense his nervous trembling as his lips slide over hers. More tears flow as he breaks away and reopens his eyes, but his voice remains firm when he speaks. "I'm happy you're the one I chose to be with, Betty Cooper since I'm stuck in this chaotic hellscape."
Betty's heart swells at the words, recalling the gentle look in his eyes when they stood on this similar site so many months ago and put words to the love they'd already felt for so long. She understands his agony over lost memories is for recollections like those, not the ones from his childhood, which he's only ever expressed bitterly. The crick in her neck she woke up with after falling asleep investigating and the sleepy softness of his voice is the first thing she heard in the new day; the moonlight shining through the curtains as she gripped his palms instead of her own and told him about the haunting phone calls; his broken voice asking her to stay, and the crick in her neck Betty woke up with after falling asleep investigating and the sleepy softness of his voice being the first thing she heard in the new day.
A radio plays something sweet and melodious in the depths of the junkyard, unfitting for the realities of their environment. Jughead then takes her hand in his and gently brings her closer to him, sliding his palm down her arm and twisting her in a slow swirl till he's hugging her to him.
Betty moves up close, her lips hovering over his. "Come on, Juggie, Make me feel seventeen."  Let's be normal, see bad movies Sneak a beer and watch TV We'll bake brownies or go bowling Don't you want a life with me? Can't we be seventeen? That's all I want to do If you could let me in I could be good with you
Can't we be seventeen Is that so hard to do? If you could let me in I could be good with you Let us be seventeen If we still got the right So what's it gonna be? I wanna be with you I wanna be with you Wanna be with you tonight
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01/23/2022 11:02 PM
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About You.
About You She really wants to tell him that she still can't sleep. That Betty still has nightmares about the Black Hood creeping into her room and strangling her, and that Alice has come into her room three times when she wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. Betty cannot handle being in the same room with her mother for any longer than is absolutely necessary. So she travels from school to Vixens practice to the Riverdale Public Library and remains there until closing, despite Alice's anxiety for her daughter's nightly terrors.
But Jughead is grabbing at straws to keep the new family he's created—already, he's done so much harm to the old one, and the prospect of returning to his lonely existence gives him a bad taste in his mouth. So he's pacing aimlessly through the history department when he comes upon Betty curled up in an armchair, books, and papers strewn across the table in front of her.
Betty glances at him through veiled eyes as his close movement jolts her awake. She grins at him, not quite awake and aware of the circumstance, unguarded and with what he hopes is a hint of the love she used to gaze at him with. "Hello, Juggie," she says softly.
Betty sits up hastily, flushing and no longer looking him in the eyes. She curses herself softly and begins to grab her possessions. When she wakes up these days, she forgets everything for a little while. Betty has no recollection of Polly's disappearance, of a killer stalking her, or of Jughead breaking her heart in the liminal space between dream and reality. Usually, she can shake herself out of it, but the library setting threw her off, plus he was there, so her emotions took over her mind. Betty is overwhelmed with embarrassment and shame and is frantically trying to flee.
Betty trembles when she opens her lips to speak, and she grabs his hand to keep herself steady. When he squeezes back, she tries to ignore the warmth that spreads throughout her entire existence, but it blossoms so swiftly that she feels utterly tranquil for the first time in weeks. "I'm glad you'll be back at Riverdale High," she says, not even bothering to hide her smile this time. More phrases float around in the air—because I've missed you, so we can spend time together, please don't push me away again—but the soft edges of the moment obscure the unsaid concerns. It's about breakin' up and wakin' up And stayin' tough, and Makers Mark Toppin' off a coffee cup And pray it does the trick to forget At least for a little while It's about words that hurt, the verses burn
The worst mistakes and lessons learned And gettin' what you deserve Instead of gettin' back what you had to lose Yeah boy, this one's about you Yeah, this one's about you
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01/22/2022 10:16 PM
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Fade Into You.
fade into you Betty informs him, "If you're on the frontlines, then so am I."
Her voice has a slight tremor, spurred by the small part of her that still fears Jughead will continue to push her away to keep her safe. It's something they're working on, and they're getting better at it, but she's concerned because they're doing it in front of their friends, but still, Serpents Jughead is meant to be in charge of. She wouldn't blame him if he seized this moment to impose his authority; she'd certainly given him hell afterward, but she wouldn't be shocked.
It's why, despite the shaking she hopes no one else can hear, she uses her best "don't f*** with me" voice, and why she tosses in a "Serpent queen" into her argument, despite how alien and foreign the words sound on her tongue.
Betty is adamant that he not say no. He also doesn't.
Instead, Jughead proclaims that they'll get Hot Dog back no matter what, and Betty gets a sight of the softer side of him that she adores, the one that keeps his childhood stuffed animal on his bedside and greets everyone in the Andrews' house before anybody else. The Jughead is ready to lead them all on an absurd reconnaissance expedition to save their pet dog. I wanna hold the hand inside you I wanna take the breath that's true I look to you and I see nothing I look to you to see the truth
You live your life, you go in shadows You'll come apart and you'll go black Some kind of night into your darkness Colors your eyes with what's not there
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01/21/2022 11:26 PM
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getting older.
getting older When she sees the blood, the bubble bursts, as Betty takes in the image in front of her, everything appears to crack: the congealing solidity of the liquid her mother is feverishly attempting to sweep up, Chic's stuttering hyperventilating across the kitchen, the unmistakable sound whooshing through her ears as if she were underwater.
Betty's brain detects that Jughead had bitten the same lip just hours before and comforted it with passionate kisses when she bites her lip. All she can taste now is the metallic tang of her own blood, heightened by the suffocating odor of blood that pervades Alice Cooper's immaculate veneer. Betty races towards the front hall washroom to vomit into the toilet after something in her stomach twists viciously. When she encourages Betty to get a handle of herself, she still hears everything through a veil, and it seems like Alice is yelling from blocks away.
When Betty comes to where Alice is wiping up blood, her heart is in her throat, and her nails are in her hands. She doesn't appear to have made a dent in the problem. There's so much of it, yet Betty's attention is drawn to the sheer volume of blood rather than the body in her peripheral vision. She could throw up again if she thinks long and hard about whether those eyes are open, whether there is life in them. Betty can't bring herself to cross the proverbial. Literal red sea in front of her to reach Chic, who is still crouched on the ground on the other side of the blood; even though she wants to comfort this person with whom she feels an inexplicable connection beyond shared DNA, she can't bring herself to do so. "Mom," she stutters. "Can you tell me what happened?"
As she talks, Alice seems upset with Betty, but as if it were over something as insignificant as Betty wearing ugly cut-off jeans and failing to inquire about the possibly dead corpse on their kitchen floor. "We don't have time for this, Elizabeth. Please go to the garage and fetch additional rags. They're the ones your father uses to wash his vehicles. Now!"
Betty Cooper listens to her mother because that's what she does. She hears her mother tell her to change out of her dress and into pants; she hears her mother tell her to run a load of blood-soaked rags in the washer. To wash Chic's hands for him, help Alice wrap the body in more towels, transport it in the back of the station wagon, drive with her to some back corner of the Southside, and carry it into a drain pipe. Betty listens since she can't think of anything else to do.
Betty attempts to find words during the agonizingly silent trip. What do you say when your mother is wearing your favorite coat to conceal her blood-stained sweater, and there's a body in the trunk, and you're traveling across town? Do you tell her you've just had your virginity taken away? You bring up the boy's father with whom you recently lost your virginity.
"FP," she quietly whispers. "Well, he." She can't get the words out of her head. "He's been known to hide a corpse before. Could we...ask for a second pair of hands?"
"He was apprehended, Elizabeth. He managed to conceal a body, albeit not very effectively." The snort Alice responds with is sarcastically mocking.
Betty's intellect finally catches up to her body as the body is placed, the thud reverberating with terrible finality, and something inside her shatters. During the return trip, Alice remains silent, although she does take one hand off the driving wheel to securely grasp her daughter's clenched fist. She's looking for solace, camaraderie, or...something, but she's not sure what.
Betty is trembling when they go home, unable to comprehend what has happened. She dashes for the entryway table, where she'd left her phone when Jughead had dropped her off. When she hits the call button next to Jughead's name, her fingers are slippery with sweat and blood—hers, not that it's any better than the alternative. He scans the kitchen lights, which are still on, for Alice's army of cleaning tools and Chic's hunched body. "Uh, Mrs. Cooper?" The elder woman doesn't explain, but she gives him a softer glance than average. Jughead determines that this is a perplexing indication in and of itself. "Could you kindly assist in getting Betty washed up and into bed, Jughead?"
He makes a blinking motion. Betty, too, raises her head slightly, tears still streaming down her face but clearing briefly to heed her mother's remarks. They listen to Alice Cooper, as one does. Jughead grabs Betty's hand in his and helps her up on her unsteady knees before walking her up the stairwell with a calming palm caressing her back. Betty freezes at her bedroom doorway as if she doesn't recognize the world around her—things have changed irreversibly since she left her room earlier that day.
Jughead, perplexed, takes the lead, snatching Betty's fluffy pink robe from the back of her vanity chair and gently escorting her down the hall to the toilet. The aroma of Betty's perfume and shampoo fills the little room, the soothing scent washing over Jughead in waves and anchoring him. He's still on high alert, absolutely baffled as to what's going on, but Betty appears to be physically fine—aside from her palms—and that alone helps to lower his heart rate.
Betty emerges with mascara rings across her eyes and damp hair plastered on her cheeks as the taps squeal off. When Jughead tosses her the robe, she shrugs it off before scooping up the goods from the counter and following Jughead back across the hall to her room. Jughead kneels down at the edge of Betty's soft pink bed, gently applying ointment and band-aids to each of the crescent sores on her hands, putting small kisses on top of each one as he finishes. Betty curls into the fetal position as he does so, grasping his hands to pull him along with her. I'm getting older, I think I'm aging well I wish someone had told me I'd be doing this by myself There's reasons that I'm thankful, there's a lot I'm grateful for But it's different when a stranger's always waiting at your door
But next week, I hope I'm somewhere laughing For anybody asking, I promise I'll be fine I've had some trauma, did things I didn't wanna Was too afraid to tell ya, but now, I think it's time
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01/20/2022 11:40 PM
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Your day.
your day Only a few rays of sunlight broke through the hurriedly drawn drapes, illuminating the trailer. Jughead was hunched over his laptop, and Betty could see by the heavy bags under his eyes that he hadn't gotten nearly as much sleep as she had. When he finally observed her hesitating in the doorway, wondering if she should approach any closer to him, he glanced up in astonishment. Betty wished she could reach out and touch his face, his hands, something, and urge him to let her love him. She stayed seated until it resonated in her thoughts once again.
She bit her lower lip, hoping tears would not fall. "That's not right, Jug. You do not have the power to make decisions for both of us. We went past a serial murderer tormenting me, and we can get past you being in a gang."
"You're not going to wreck everything, and if you believe you have the capacity to ruin my life utterly, you're in for a surprise." Betty gulped hard as surprise rushed over his face once more. Why was it always a surprise to him when she fought for them? "I promised you that I would help you find out anything you needed to figure out. Yes, I'm concerned about you and your safety. Of course, I was worried about you when the Black Hood threatened me. But, in the end, did we learn nothing from the whole thing? We'd be miserable if we didn't have each other. We may not add on paper, but when has that ever stopped us? You told me that day at the diner that you wanted we could get out of here. What happened to Jughead?"
Standing her ground was a little scary, and her chest heaved with breath and fear, but Betty kept her gaze fixed on the gun's barrel. The comments of her mother the night before had stayed with her. Allow yourself to be free with what you love. Betty didn't want to break up with Jughead, but their back-and-forth had been killing her for weeks. Even though every fiber of her being tried to keep them apart, she knew that carrying on as they were would break her. They had finally found stable footing following the Black Hood incident and felt out of place before things blew up at the Whyte Wyrm.
Betty went cautiously toward him, her heart hammering out of her chest. She sat on the couch's arm, consciously resisting the urge to lean in closer to Jughead. It was all over if they touched. Her determination would be shattered, and this crucial talk would be cut short.
"I'm terrified." It came out in hushed tones, and Jughead gazed at a hole in the couch cushion as he uttered it, scared to look her in the eyes again and witness the inevitable hurt. "I'm afraid of harming you, losing you, or having anything bad happen to you. All I want is for you to be secure. And I think I'm the furthest thing from it right now."
Betty allowed herself to turn his face to her with her hand on his cheek. "You make me feel protected, Jug. Without it, none of the rest of it matters." He clenched his eyes shut and sank into the warmth of her fingers in response.
She muttered, "We can't keep hurting one other like this anymore." She moved down the couch's arm and into the area beside him, her other hand cradling his face. "Jughead, I want to be with you. Please never give up fighting for us." Jughead exhaled once more and drew Betty's little figure into him. She felt as protected as she could be at that moment. Amid the tumult that threatened to drown them both, his arms held her afloat, and she refused to let go. See a man in my dreams And he's staring at me He's taking my hand And he's pulling beneath He says I'm here child I'm here to take your way Your the Devils Daughter And this is your day've got so much more to do I wanna kiss him goodbye I wanna say to him until he cries Then he'll go,and then I'll go,and then he'll go Ooh I'm not ready to leave
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01/19/2022 11:09 PM
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camera roll.
camera roll As Jughead sped down the road, the scenery whizzed by. She watched as the woods blurred around them, and she sensed the beginnings of an anxiety attack. She pushed her nails deep into her palms, shattering the flesh almost instantly. This time, though, the pleasant sensation of release was not present. She still had a strong sense of being out of control. She attempted to take deep breaths, but she couldn't because they became stuck in her throat.
"Jug, you need to slow down or stop." Her words were barely audible, but she knew he could hear them. With a tiny shake of his head, he expressed his dissatisfaction with the situation. "I'm out of breath." His eyes were flaming as he spared a peek at her. She was barely audible. The sound of the engine assaulted her senses, and the pressure in her gut warned her of what was to come.
"Jug! NOW!" As he pushed his foot into the brake, turning the tires to direct them into the approaching, her body surged forward. Her palm rushed to his on the gear shift, pushing into his delicate flesh as the final word came out almost like a shriek. She looked at him pleadingly and noticed that he had picked up on the worry that was spreading across her face.
She had unbuckled herself and was rushing out of the car, racing for the trees to her right, before the automobile had even come to a complete stop. She snatched the first one she saw and emptied her stomach's bare contents. The heat engulfed her, pushing in on all sides and choking her while her head spun from the sobs. When she felt his hand on her back, pressing little circles into the flesh, she hadn't even heard him approach. She took deep breaths in and out, allowing herself to relax. She shifted her weight away from his hands and leaned against the tree, cringing as the deep aching in her ribs became unbearable.
She raised her hands to wipe the sweat off her brow, but he seized her wrists before they arrived at their destination. He lowered them again and flipped her hands over. At the sight of her hands, she heard rather than saw his little intake of air. She could tell they were considerably more twisted than they had been the day before. He forced her to look up at him by bringing his finger up to her chin.
She cried as she felt herself disintegrate at the seams due to his dread. She covered her face with her hands, not wanting the boy in front of her to witness her break down. Like a scalpel, his voice sliced through her sobbing. "Did you cause this to happen to yourself?"
She nodded and covered her face with her hands as she choked on her sobs. Jughead's hands stretched up to hers, releasing her shirt, which slid back across her stomach. He took her hands away from her face and ripped them away. "I wanted to feel in charge of something," she said, her voice trembling for an adjustment. I'm constantly feeling out of control. I just... I wanted to make the final decision."
"Well, you opted to end your relationship with me, so I'd say that counts as a decision." His statements were not tinged with hatred; they were just a declaration of what he believed to be accurate. Betty leaned against the trunk of the tree. She was exhausted. Sick of lying. Sick of battling by myself. Sick of seeing Jughead in pain.
"It was him," She emphasized the last word, hoping Jug would figure out who she was talking about. She was weary of being alone but yet too afraid to say out loud who had been torturing her. "Jug, he knows where Polly is. Since that night in the hall, he's been calling me. He threatened Polly and urged me to end the friendship with Veronica. Then he told me a few nights ago..." She couldn't continue since her voice had broken.
On the other hand, Jughead was smart and put together the rest. "You couldn't possibly have known Jughead. That's why I didn't show up and put a stop to it. I knew you wouldn't give up lightly, and I couldn't bear the thought of lying to you." Jughead cocked his head slightly and rested his palm on Betty's face. In the shelter of the trees, she relaxed into his touch, savoring the warmth of his fingertips.
They both forgot about the Black Hood and their murder mystery at that point. They had forgotten about the Serpents and the Ghoulies, as well as the impending civil war in their town. They were only two teenagers at the time, trying to make things work and cling on to one other as tightly as they could. Don't go through your camera roll So much you don't know That you've forgotten What a trip The way you can flip Through all the good parts of it I shouldn't have done it
Anyway, thanks For all the nights and the days And everything that you gave I'll never erase it There's one where we look so in love Before we lost all the sun And I made you take it
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01/18/2022 10:54 PM
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pretty
pretty Her gaze flickered between the diamanté gems on the collar and the top two buttons as she knotted and loosened the knot in her light denim blue blouse. She'd spent far too much time debating whether she should tie a knot and expose some skin or tuck it inside her skirt. She ultimately chose the latter option. Tilting her head to the side, she considered her evening outfit, which she knew should have made her feel brave and confident, but something didn't feel right. Her gaze was drawn to her hair as she looked into the full-length mirror once more, this time examining her shorter-than-usual pink skirt. The ponytail has to be the worst part.
Her hand grabbed for the blonde hairband and tugged it from her head. Betty Cooper was prepared with the tiniest of a smile, the upward movement of her lips, and her fingers pulling through her hair.
Betty made her way downstairs after finishing the last and last application of mascara. It was gloomy and ominous, not at all like the Cooper house. She noticed a shift in the room as she double-checked the fit of her personal stuff in the little purse.
Betty nodded nervously, tugging at the hems of her blouse and tiny skirt, aware that her new black lingerie was on show for all to see (although it was only meant for one pair of eyes). The Cooper women (except Polly) made their grand entry, giving a short smile to her mother. It was almost as though the entire room fell silent when they walked in. They were the center of attention. Betty wasn't sure how long it had been since Alice had stepped into this bar, but time had vanished for a bit of period. Betty's gaze was drawn to the one and only person who mattered to her at the time.
With a genuine smile and her closest friends on stage, something off in the corner of the room grabbed her eye. Her gaze shifted to Jughead and FP. Betty had no idea what was going on as the song abruptly stopped, and Veronica bolted from the stage, followed by Archie.
Betty was in a state of panic.
FP was stepping onto the stage before she comprehended what she just did dancing and what was going on. Betty's attention was drawn to Jughead. He was wearing what seemed to be his Serpent jacket. He put it on her shoulders. The darkness of the bar couldn't disguise his anxiety and wrath. FP's booming voice suddenly engulfed the bar. Everyone came to a complete stop and gazed.
And I find it quite funny I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday, happy birthday
And I feel the way that every child
should Sit and listen, sit and listen But when you're sleeping, you look so pretty. When you touch me, I get all dizzy And I remember why I'm so in it I forget all of our flaws I just want you close When you look so pretty
That we'd always be together Never let it go, never take it for granted If it's getting hard, try a little bit harder for you (Try a little bit harder for you)
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01/17/2022 11:18 PM
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angel.
angel The sensation of dirt and earth caked into her nails from her time in the man-made hole was the first thing she remembered when she awoke in the hospital. TBK had dug several spots, and she had fallen into one of them. The only thing that set her apart from the other women was that she lived to tell the tale. Unfortunately, her nurse, Liz, pumped her full of morphine to reduce the discomfort to a minimum after undergoing multiple surgeries on her arm. Due to her two weeks in hell, she was dehydrated and deprived of nutrition. During that period, TBK had not provided her with any food.
Her thoughts wandered to some of the most bizarre hallucinations she had had when under the effect of the medications against her choice. TBK, whatever he was, had kept her drugged only for the sake of amusement. Had continued to play cat-and-mouse games with her. Betty had gone into his lair to fetch Mary home and ended up being abducted herself — the worst part was that Mary was already dead when Betty arrived. She recalls the headlights from when her FBI team discovered her two weeks later - how Glenn was the first face she saw and how she hoped it was someone else's.
However, such is not the case. She wouldn't be able to get there. She was adamant that she would not go. After all, when Liz asked if she had anyone she wanted to contact, she had declined. There was no one around. She said it with all seriousness. Her stay in the hospital was dominated by feeding tubes and arm physical therapy. She had her work cut out for her, but the doctors assured her that she would overcome her obstacles if she fought hard enough. She prayed it was correct. Hope was odd for her; it came and went in waves. It was there one minute, then vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving her to fend for herself.
It doesn't matter. She was pretty skilled at it.
She sighed and leaned back in her pillow, wondering when she'd be allowed to leave the hospital. It didn't appear like it was going to happen any time soon. The doctors insisted on putting some weight back on her. Then it didn't bother her that she was now nothing but skin and bones. It demonstrated what she had to go through and endure.
She was discharged from the hospital two weeks later. She knew she needed to return to work, but Glenn and the special agent therapist hadn't given her the green light yet. So she sat at home while she wasn't at work, and when she was at work, she sat behind a desk and did the bare minimum. Glenn didn't want her out on the field just yet, claiming that her mental health was suffering. It's not even close to being worth it.
She kept herself occupied by reading case files and keeping a murder board pinned up in her bedroom to attempt to figure out where TBK was and who his next victim would be. She wasn't sure, but she knew she shouldn't have lived, and yet she did. She's at risk of being kidnapped once more. That's why she kept her doors closed at all times and carried her gun with her almost all of the time, even when she ran to the store.
It was a complete disaster. If I was an angel I'd use only pretty words And when I'm talking to you It would never hurt You'd only get the best of me I'd never make you wanna leave
I'd pull you out of the darkness Keep you out of the rain Everything would be better You'd never have to change You'd never have to change
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01/14/2022 01:15 PM
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worth it.
Worth It The following day, Betty awoke bright and early. Despite the blankets, the bed was the most comfortable she'd ever slept in - not that she'd ever say it to Jughead or anybody else. There had been a slight hue of blue light in the room when she fell asleep, and there had been a faint hue of blue light in the room when she awoke a couple of times during the night, suggesting that Jughead had been working late into the night. It seemed strangely pleasant to know that he'd retained some of his old behaviors. Some things never seem to change.
She checked her phone for 7:00 o'clock in the morning, which was nearly late by her standards. She really wanted coffee, but she'd have to wait until 8 a.m. because they didn't serve breakfast until 8. She slid out of bed and entered the bathroom as quietly as she possibly could. She brushed her teeth and fetched a glass of water for herself. When she emerged from the toilet, Jughead was breathing deeply and regularly, which she assumed meant he was comfortably asleep. He appeared calm in a manner that he never did as a teenager. She wondered, not for the first time, what his life had been like in the previous several years and why he was so angry with her.
Then she realized she had no right to be interested in knowing about him in the first place. Given what he thought of her, she was lucky he conversed with her. She sat back on her bed, returning to the small bed as she was starting to think about it, suddenly experiencing a wash of uneasiness all over again. She passed the time by scrolling through her phone till she had an idea. She hurriedly put on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt and looked for her handbag. She expected to find Jughead still asleep when she went out into the central area of the room, so she was taken aback to discover him sitting up on the bed, bleary-eyed.
'There's no rush.' Betty took a seat in the room's nook armchair. When Jughead got out of bed, she realized he was still wearing an S t-shirt from the night before. She'd never known where he got them, and she'd never seen them for sale elsewhere, but it was reassuring to know that Jughead could still find them all these years later. Also, pajama bottoms with a plaid pattern. At the very least, certain things remained unchanged. It was a road they had walked thousands of times before, first as children with their parents. As friends permitted to make the short trek alone, and finally as boyfriend and girlfriend, navigating the hardships of their first relationship as well as everything Riverdale had to offer. Their final visit, the last before they all left, was the final splintering of their friendship and the last time she'd seen Veronica and Archie in a long time.
Pop arrived with their coffee and took their order at that time, interrupting their chat. Betty drank her drink while attempting to answer reasonable questions to ask him. That wasn't precisely a targeted question regarding the two years since he received his book contract and left her that note.
She was also attempting to figure out how she was feeling. Feelings she'd buried deep and then shoved down by her never-ending to-do list. Should she make an apology? Should he make an apology to her? Should she be making amends to him, or was she the one who had been wronged? Was it true that she deserved such comments from him? Could they overlook it and rekindle their delicate relationship? Cause I'm worth it You're crazy baby if you think that I don't know it I ain't afraid to walk away if you can't see it, believe it And give me the love I'm deserving 'Cause I know I'm worth it
Is it too much to look me in the eye? And listen to what I'm saying this time
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01/10/2022 01:37 PM
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feel fine.
feel fine Betty rose up and walked away with a nod. She walked back to the room at a slow, deliberate pace, suppressing the impulse to flee. Her eyes were wet, and her cheeks were flushed as Betty felt the passion pouring through her. She didn't want Jughead to know about it.
When she entered the room, she noticed that it had been altered. Two folding room dividers were used to create a compartment in one corner of the enormous room, concealing the camp bed and a small set of drawers. It didn't appear like a camp bed at all; layers of blankets made it look so cozy that Betty almost immediately cuddled up in it. A dish of cookies, together with a letter apologizing for the inconvenience, had been set on the main sideboard.
Betty decided that, despite everything, she owed Jughead the huge bed, so she carried her belongings over to the cozy nook they had made. She opted to keep most of her belongings in her suitcase, but she pulled out the few dresses she'd packed and draped them over the railings to try to smooth out some of the creases, remembering her mother's old dress requirements. She then took her washbag and went to the shower.
As the hot water flowed over her, she allowed herself to cry for five minutes. She sobbed for the Betty she used to be. She mourned for Jughead's carefree relationship until she did the one thing that wounded him the most. She cried for the next seven years, which had widened the chasm between them to the point where it was painfully uncomfortable. She also wept for the bonds she had lost with Archie and Veronica. And she sobbed at the loss of her feeling of belonging.
She sighed deeply, began shampooing her hair, and decided to get through the following week by whatever means necessary when the five minutes were over. I won't look at you the same way again, ah Some of my joy and then my pain The need to f*** and take all my clothes off To harden my soul, soft We shivered, we laughed, you held me down Then you vanished in front of my eyes This was all in paradise
Alone again with demons, and pain whiling Guess that's why you left my island It's too rough out here, the island's drowning So I grabbed to whatever was breathing out of the water You drown first, this is cursed You only get one chance
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