Cold-Blooded Lovers

Alive Again

The Bunker

Sunday, March 22, 2020-3:30pm

Jughead:

I looked at the time on my laptop. 3:30pm. I had written my paragraph for the day. When Riverdale started to turn into Gotham City, I promised my dad that, no matter what, I would write every single day. I didn't want to break that promise, but it was hard. I had no motivation and nothing interesting was happening. My last seven days of writing were just a paragraph. That's all I could manage. And they were all about death if that's any consolation for how I've been feeling. I close my laptop for the day and collapse on the cot, so that I can go back to sleep and restart this routine whenever I wake up tomorrow. I finally start to drift off after a few minutes, when I hear the bunker door. I think about hiding under the bed, but I just don't have the energy, so instead I pull the covers up over me and put the pillow over my head and turn to face the wall. Honestly I just want to sleep right now. So what if my cover's blown.

           "Jughead!" I hear my name. The voice sounds familiar, but I don't register it. Maybe because I haven't heard any actual voices in a week, so it could really be anyone, so I don't look up yet, because despite not caring about blowing my cover, I still want to be sure it's okay to talk. "Jughead, it's just me, Veronica." I slowly pull the pillow down and turn to face her. I was cold, so I didn't bother sitting up, I just stayed bundled up under the sheets, facing her. All I could think was, What was she doing down here and why?

The Bunker

Sunday, March 22, 2020-4:15pm

Veronica:

I walk down the ladder-like stairs down to the bunker. I see a lump under the sheets, which I'm pretty sure is Jughead.

"Jughead!" He doesn't stir. Maybe he didn't hear me, or he wants to make sure I'm okay to talk to. "Jughead, it's just me, Veronica." He slowly pulls the pillow down and turns to face me. He doesn't bother sitting up, he just stays bundled up under the thin sheets, looking at me. I don't blame him, it's pretty cold down here. No, very cold, even considering that it was 45 degrees outside. It was somewhere in the twenties or below down here. I know he's definitely wondering what I'm doing here. Honestly, now that I'm down here, I don't really know either. "Maybe I shouldn't have come down here, it was a mistake." He just looks at me with this sad look in his eyes. I turn to go when he grabs my wrist. I know he mustered all his strength to stop me from leaving. I turn back around.

"No, stay." I look at him. "Please, stay." I sigh.

"Okay, okay." He slightly smiles and scoots over to make room for me on the bed and pulls the sheets down a little. I look at him.

"Please. I just need someone right now, anyone." I look back down at the bed.

"Okay, if it makes you feel better." He smiles. I sit on the bed and get under the covers. Jughead looks at me and smiles. He's still holding onto my wrist which is now in front of me. He pulls me a little closer to him. We're just laying there. After a few minutes, his breathing begins to steady as he falls asleep. I just lay there in Jughead's arms thinking. After a few more minutes, I start to get tired and close my eyes to rest.

The Bunker

Sunday, March 22, 2020-4:30pm

Jughead:

  "Maybe I shouldn't have come down here, it was a mistake." I just look at her. I can't let her leave. She turns and it takes everything in me to reach out and grab her wrist and stop her. I'm so weak. She turns and looks at me.

"No, stay." My voice comes out sounding weak and quiet, but I know she heard me because of the way she looks at me. She looks at me as if she's contemplating it. "Please, stay." I look at her longingly.

"Okay, okay." I smile. I scoot over and pull the sheet down, so she has room to sit. She looks at me unsure.

"Please. I just need someone right now, anyone." I can hear how raspy and dry my voice sounds and I internally cringe. She looks back down at the space I cleared for her.

"Okay, if it makes you feel better." I smile. She really does care about me. I think to myself. She sits on the bed and gets under the covers. I look at her and smile. I'm glad someone cares about me. Even if that someone is Veronica Lodge. I realize I'm still holding onto her wrist for comfort, because I don't want her to leave me like all the others have. She hasn't tried to pull away from my grasp, so I pull her closer to me. It makes me feel safer and more comfortable, having someone with me. Eventually, I manage to drift off to sleep. I was able to fall asleep quicker than every other night down here, because I wasn't lying in bed in fear of what was to come next. I actually felt safe, comfortable. I had the best sleep that I've had since before I "died," thanks to Veronica. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel dead, I felt alive. She finally made me feel alive again.

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