Perfect. That was what she was supposed to be. For as long as Betty could remember her mother had been pushing her to cultivate a flawless image. From critiquing her entire appearance every morning before she left the house-"that blouse has a crease in it", "red really isn't your colour dear"-, to pushing her to do better at school even when she is getting straight A's, to shoving pills down her throat, to basically attempting to control every aspect of her life. For a long time Betty let her mother treat her as she pleased and strived to fit into the image she had created for her. And although, in the wake of Jason Blossom's murder and the evolution of her friendship with Veronica Betty was trying to take the lead in her life and resist her mother's whims, she still found herself being restricted to an image of perfection.
It was as though she was tasked with being the perfect one so that the people around her could all go about making mistakes in their own lives yet still feel a sense of security in her own put together image. And to an extent the bright blonde did pride herself on her ability to present such an image to the world, but deep down the expectation to be faultless was killing her. Crushing her, because she doesn't feel perfect, she feels like she's failing.
Except when she's with Jughead. Betty's not sure what it is about the sardonic, raven haired boy but every time she's around him it's as though all expectations, all preconceived notions of who she should be are left at the door. And it's utterly freeing. Jughead is the only person in her life that makes her feel like it's okay to be dark sometimes. She revels in that feeling, because as he told her one rainy afternoon in the office of the Blue and Gold after she had the day to come to grips with the fact that her father could possibly be a murderer, "it's okay to feel sad or angry or whatever you want to feel Betty, it doesn't make you a bad person, it just makes you human."
And when it's just the two of them following a lead, or sitting in a booth at Pop's, or walking home from school he makes her feel special. When he places his slightly callused hands on her smooth cheeks, and reminds her to breathe and that he's right here as she fights off a panic attack and looks into her clear blue eyes which such honesty he makes her feel safe. When he gives her that shy, half smile when she says something witty he makes her feel wanted. When he compliments her vocabulary choices in her articles for the school paper he makes her feel smart. When he kisses her and pulls her close, looking at her with such raw passion in his blue, green eyes she feels loved. And when they lay entwined in her bed after proving to each other just how deep their emotions run and he kisses her temple smiling at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, drinking her in like he's parched and she's water, she feels truly perfect for the first time in her life. She feels like his personal brand of perfection, because of her scars, and wounds and flaws, not in spite of them. And honestly it's the most liberating thing she has ever felt.
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Jughead Jones is an enigma; mysterious, difficult to understand. For as long as he can remember he's kept to himself, never sharing too much, not letting people in too deep. He's dark and brooding and sardonic and sarcastic and is very much content with being alone. His friend's valued his company and the humour he provided them but they never needed him. They were never overly concerned if he wasn't around. He points out the truth when they need to hear it and they avoid him until their egos heal and that's the way it works. He's never needed people and people never needed him. It was an equilibrium that was delicate and untouched.
Until Betty happened. They had always been friends, a pleasant consequence of being friend's with Archie, but they had never spent much time in isolation as a pair. But then Archie starting messing up and Jason was murdered and her family got crazier, while his fell further apart and they both went looking for answers. He was caught completely off guard though when he discovered she was his answer. The bubbly blonde girl next door, who stashed her problems at the back of her mind and the bottom of her heart to be the rock her friend's needed and the daughter her parents wanted. Slowly she crept her way into his dark exterior and softened his heart. She envied his ability to show the world his darkness so he let her present her own. He let her be vulnerable and in showing him her own weakness she pushed past his apathetic nature and into his heart. She made him feel light... happy even.
When she smirked at him following a sarcastic remark, he feels warm. When she affectionately gripped his face and brushed her thumb across his cheek, he feels loved. When she locks their fingers together under the lunch table or leaned into his side he feels content. When she tells him how much he means to her in a voice so soft and honest he feels needed. When she looks at him with lidded eyes and kisses him he feels desired. When she winks at him during cheerleading practice or at football games, he feels visible. When she asks him to walk her home he feels remarkable. When she looks at him with a cheeky smile and adoration in her shining blue eyes after he offers her his jacket he feels like a gentlemen. When she presses a delicate kiss to his chest as they lie together bare souled and bare bodied in her bed he feels so completely at peace. She makes him feel complex and multifaceted, rather than like a mystery and it makes him happier than he's ever been, and it's honestly the most genuine thing he's ever felt.
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The Perfect Enigma
Fanfiction"And when they lay entwined in her bed after proving to each other just how deep their emotions run and he kisses her temple smiling at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, drinking her in like he's parched and she's water, she fe...
