Drunk//Bughead

2.1

|normal perspective.|

People say that broken things can be fixed. You could glue things together, or tape them, or repair them. But how do you repair a person? By being there for them? Boosting their self esteem? Showing large amounts of affection? Such a mystery.

Now, you may be asking: how can a person be broken?

Simple. By someone else or themselves.

There are tragic cases where both of those could be the problem. Let's take Elizabeth Cooper for example.

Perfection, what she chases after, what she craves, what she just wants so bad. Not only to satisfy herself, but to relieve others. To seem good enough.

She's broken. Who's gonna fix her? Is it impossible to fix her? Can you not glue her pieces back together?

A new challenge for Jughead Jones to discover and face.

Spoiler alert: it works.

***

|jughead.|

"Come here," I whispered as Betty carelessly sobbed into my shoulder as loud as she pleased. And I let her. I let her literally pour her sadness onto me. And I was okay with it.

The slightly chilly air was filled with the sound of cars passing by, our footsteps, and Betty's sniffles. I hugged her close as we made our way to the iconic Pop's, a place to always bring out the best in her.

I sat her in a booth, wrapping my denim jacket around her small figure. I studied her, the way her hands were shaking and her trembling bottom lip. The look in her eyes made you feel as if you just kicked the tiniest puppy in the world: horrible.

Of-fucking-course something just had to come crashing down on Betty's happiness. Why does that always happen to her? Why is it that whenever Betty merely tries the slightest to smile, something always rains on her parade? Why did it have to be Alice out of all people, anyway?

I sighed, reaching over the sleek, wooden table to grasp her hand.

But she flinches.

And my heart breaks right then and there.

"Betty," I mutter, catching my bottom lip between my teeth. I retreat my hands, but she quickly reaches out to grab them, squeezing tight and bringing them closer to her.

"I-I'm sorry, Juggie, it's just that everything's happening too fast," She stumbled over her words, and I storm up, kissing her trembling lips. Once I broke away, I placed my forehead against hers. She lets out a deep breath that she probably didn't know that she was holding.

"I got you, Betts. It's okay now, I got you," I whispered against the bridge of her nose. She looked up at me for a minute before nodding. "I believe you, Jug."

***

|normal perspective.|

It was around 9:30 when the two arrived on the Coopers' driveway. There was a brisk wind that sent chills down Jughead's spine and caused Betty's hair to fly in the same direction. Blue met green as their eyes had a war; should they even attempt to get her through her bedroom window?

  As if they could read each others minds, Betty made her way to the side of the brick house that lead to her room. The window wasn't even that far from the ground, all the blonde needed was an extra two feet and she'd be ready.

   Jughead knelt on one knee, cupping his hands together for Betty to step in. The blonde caught on quickly, giving him a quick peck as a 'thank you' before placing her black Nike shoes on his palm. She was rather light, so it took Jughead very little effort to push her body upward so that she could reach the white windowpane. She pushed up her window before crawling inside, landing on her pink duvet. She popped her head out of the window, smiling down at Jug.

  Jughead saluted her as she blew a kiss towards his direction, and he started towards his home: Riverdale High.