❝I don't know what you went through, and I know we aren't going to go back to where we were for a long time, maybe even ever. But if I knew that you were about to go through the worst time of your life, I wouldn't have left. I swear.❞
Catherine Bell...
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↳ Saturday Morning
Nov. 12th↵
I woke up to find myself laying on the couch, daylight breaking in through the blinds. I silently panicked for a moment when I felt an arm squeeze around my stomach.
I heard Jughead tiredly groan as he cuddled me. He was curled up behind me, still sleeping. I was tempted to pretend like I didn't notice and wait for him to wake up and deal with it, but someone had to make breakfast.
I waited for Jug's grip to loosen, so I moved his arm and sat up. I rubbed my face, trying to get my blood pumping to my eyes. Once I stood up, I quickly jumped on one leg. I had forgotten about my ankle for a moment. I hobbled to the kitchen where I started cracking eggs and making toast and bacon.
I looked over at Jughead and remembered Betty asking me if I liked him.
"So. You and Jughead," she looked at me.
I shrugged, acting clueless. "What about us?"
"You like him, don't you?" She smiled, tilting her head, looking brighter than before.
I looked at his features from afar. His curly dark hair, his perfectly placed moles, his long nose that twitches occasionally when he's focused; but that's not what I actually like him for. He listens to me and was sweeter to me than anyone else. He's sarcastic, fairly smart, funny, charming.
The toast popped up, startling me. I made a small gasp, quickly looking back at Jughead. He was still sound asleep.
Thank God.
Once the eggs and toast were finished, I perfectly placed them on the plate, along with the bacon of course.
I walked over to Jughead and stared at him for a moment, which felt elongated.
"Juggy," I cooed to him, not wanting to rudely awaken him.
His blue eyes fluttered open, squinting at me. They quickly widened as he swiftly sat up.
"Oh my god," he panicked, looking at the couch and then me, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine," I assured, giving him a small smile. After handing him his hot plate, I sat beside him. "It reminded me of when we were younger and we would just bomb out in your treehouse."
Jughead scoffed, sticking his fork into the scrambled eggs. "Yeah, I remember. I think that was my favorite actually."
