Light came in through the windows, just as the morning breeze waved the curtains softly.
Betty and Jughead were sleeping. Betty surrounded by the regal and comfortable arm of Jughead.
Both slept peacefully until four legs assaulted them between sharp and demanding barks: Waffles.
Jughead growled, hiding his head on the pillow while Betty laughed, waking up.
"Good morning, little boy!" Betty smiled, picking up the ball of golden hair that seemed to have a special interest in biting her arm. "How has the most beautiful thing in the world slept?" She hummed.
"Well enough until the dog appeared," Jughead announced from the other side of his pillow, his voice still husky from sleep.
Betty smiled to herself, still cooing the animal. The dog writhed in her hands, still trying to bite her.
"Don't pay attention to him, hairy little thing, you're a sweetheart and always well received in this bed." She assured, smiling.
"Don't make those promises to the dog, or he'll believe them" Jughead prayed, remembering a couple of nights ago, when Waffles burst into the middle of ... A very intimate moment.
Betty gave Waffles a final sneer before leaving him on the floor to finish his job: waking Jughead up.
Waffles kept barking, offended, from the ground.
Betty turned again, facing where Jughead's head would be, but where now she only saw a pillow. She smiled, biting her lower lip and pushing her hand under the sheets, brushing his warm skin.
Seconds later, Jughead purred, satisfied.
"See, now this is the awakening I was looking for," Jughead teased, reappearing from his hiding place.
While Jughead was guarding her–his body over hers, Betty smiled, blushing.
"Good morning," she whispered, smiling.
Jughead couldn't help but deny, incredulous and the smile that was born on his lips as he launched himself to attack the vulnerable skin of her neck.
Betty felt her entire body light up like a motor. Suddenly Jughead was everywhere: her neck, her shoulder, her jaw and clavicle. His lips were investigating every point with regenerated hunger, as if they had never been there before.
Betty gasped in a subtle sigh, moving to the rhythm of Jughead's movements, colliding body to body, making sure to do as much friction as possible.
If Betty previously predicted blush, now she was a walking flush.
"Jug ..." She cried, sinking her fingers into his black hair, comfort in the grip. Her legs hugged him, begging for his closeness.
The heat began to spread within them, both lost in each other's skin; in their smell, in their presence.
Betty tossed her head aside, giving Jughead more space. She opened her eyes when she saw something moving down the hallway of the apartment.
She bit her lip, containing a laugh.
"Jug?" She called, her eyes fixed on the small, restless, hairy shape that jumped from side to side, amused.
"Betts?" Jughead gasped, now kissing his way down her chest.
Betty arched feeling his soft lips against the skin where her heart would be located, in her left breast.
"I think you should take a look ..." Betty suggested, letting out a sweet giggle.
Jughead raised his face with a confused frown, his hands still on her.
He had all his hair matted, and in spite of how clearly awake his body was, he kept his face asleep.
"What?" He asked, still not understanding.
Betty nodded toward the hall, illustrating Jughead.
When he looked out, they both saw Waffles, face up, enjoying a fantasy game with Jughead's hat.
He stood up, frustrated, throwing curses at the sky as he made his way to the door.
"For the love of God!" He protested, already going to Waffles. He stood up quickly, accepting his comment as a game proposal, and started running. "NOT AGAIN!" He begged, defeated. "I'll end up becoming a cat person!"
Betty laughed disconsolately from the bed, enjoying the scene.
"Cats scratch you all the time," Betty pointed out, sitting on the bed and reaching for her socks.
"THEN I'M A FUCKING OSTRICH PERSON" Jughead declared, still chasing Waffles from one side of the house to the other.
Betty smiled, swallowing the answer.
