You had finally gotten ready for bed; dressed in your comfy sleeping clothes and brushing your teeth. Once you finished, you walked back into your bedroom. Your phone and earbuds were resting on your dresser. It became routine for you to listen to your favorite playlist before bed. The soft melodies would carry you off to a sound sleep.
So once you were under your covers, you put your ear buds in. Your phone's screen was bright, causing you to quickly turn the brightness level down. You were about to hit play when you heard a tapping sound. Sitting up in bed, you took your earbuds out and glanced around your room. The tapping persisted until your gaze shifted to your window.
You quickly got out of bed and walked over. Staring at you through the glass was Jughead Jones, wearing his signature beanie and looking exhausted. Before you opened the window for him, you crossed your arms sassily over your chest.
"What do you say?" Jughead rolled his eyes and shook his head before answering.
"Please," he said tiredly. You opened the window and let him climb inside. "Thank you for getting me out of the cold so quickly."
"You're the one coming to my place right when I'm about to go to bed." Jughead nodded before sitting on your desk chair. "So what's up?" you asked quietly. Your friend stayed quiet as he sat in the chair, silently spinning it around.
"Jug," you said, worried now, "what happened?" He continued to spin so you caught the back of the chair to stop him. You turned the chair just enough to look into his face. "If you're not going to talk, you don't get to spin."
"What do you think happened, Y/N?" Jughead asked sadly, his voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. "My dad," he said, "again." You frowned and Jughead didn't meet your eyes. You hated that your friend felt this way; a mixture of shameful, sad, and angry.
"It's alright Juggie," you said, trying to be comforting. "You know you can stay here as long as you need to." He looked up at you, looking like a kicked puppy.
"I ran away again," he said, a bit of that anger shining through now. "Everytime he comes back like that, I just leave." You carefully reached a hand to his face, holding his cheek.
"That's okay, Jughead," you said, "somethings just can't be handled well. You're dealing with it in the best way you can." He turned his head away from your hand.
"I always come here, back to you," he said, "everytime." He looked back at you, his blue eyes glinting in the light coming from the window. " Aren't you tired of me just coming here like this? Why do you even hangout with me?" Suddenly, Jughead stood up, walking back to the window. "Sorry, Y/N, I won't come back."
Before he could even open the window, you grabbed his arm tightly. You pulled him away from it and he turned his head to face you once more.
"What are you talking about? Jughead, you're my friend. I hangout with you because you're you. You're not like the other people, pretending to be someone they're not." You smiled, feeling bittersweet tears stinging at your eyes. "I'm friends because you wear this hat everyday and because you're stupidly funny," Jughead was smiling now. "I'm friends because I love you, no matter how bad you feel or think you are."
Silence fell over the two of you, not knowing what else to say. How could Jughead think he's unworthy of friends, of you? It didn't make sense. You let go of his arm then, after realizing you were still holding it; but Jughead didn't want you to let go.
He stepped closer to you, his arms extending a little. You smiled softly up at him before taking the hint. Your arms wrapped around his waist, while long arms rested on your shoulders and around your neck. With you head pressed against his chest, you could hear his heart beating soundly in his chest.
"I love you too, Y/N," he whispered. Your arms tightened around him, wishing you could take away the pain he was feeling. "Thank you," he added softly, "for sticking with me."
"You don't have to thank me, Jug," you said, still hugging him, "it's an honor to know what's going on in that scary yet marvelous brain of yours." He let out a quiet chuckle at your words and you pulled away from his chest a little. "You're tired," you said and he nodded.
"Just a little," he said weakly. You let go of his waist and walked over to your bed.
"This will be just like when we were little," you said, throwing your pillows and blankets on the floor. Jughead dodged the things you were throwing and kicked of his shoes. As you turned around, he was shucking off his jacket.
He helped you organize the blankets and pillows in a somewhat orderly fashion before you both laid down on them. You smiled at him as he looked you, a tired smile on his features.
"Oh wait," you whisper yelled. You stood and looked over your bed for your phone. When you found it, and your earbuds, you laid back down on the floor.
"What is it?" Jughead asked softly.
"I have this playlist. I think you'll like it," you handed him an earbud. He took it and put it in his ear. "It's soft music, song that help me fall asleep when I just can't." You hit play on the playlist and your music filled your ear. Jughead smiled, knowing that the song that was playing was such a Y/N type of song.
"Goodnight, Juggie," you whispered, huddling a little closer to him. Jughead smiled to himself, feeling better now that he had talked to you. You always made him feel better, that's why he always went to you. Not Archie or Betty; you. Always you.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he said and he shifted in his spot. Once he was comfortable he closed his eyes and fell asleep to the music coming from your nightly playlist.
