#theverona

Attempt #2 

I hope you all enjoyed yesterday’s one shot. Another HUGE shout out to @lusterrdust for encouraging me to write it and editing for me. She’s awesome. Go follow her! Anyways on to the story! 

The early evening had a quiet chill hanging in the air. It would have been completely silent, if it was not for the occasional car passing. The air I was letting out with every breath danced in front of my face - painting a picture in the twilight. 

I had always loved moments like this; tranquil and beautiful. I knew that I wasn’t alone in that regard. This would always be a picture perfect memory. Jughead’s fingers were tightly intertwined with mine as he walked me home. In time’s like this I knew I could count on him to keep me from completely losing my senses. 

I felt the cold breeze envelope my blushed cheeks in an icy blanket. We were a few blocks away from my house and I remember Jughead giving me his jacket to keep me from catching a cold. Even though I remember it to be quite chilly, I know I felt warm, just having him there with me. The smile that he had on his face that night is still one of my favorites.

I broke the silence suddenly; “Hey, you didn’t have to walk me home.” 

He looked at me as we continued walking along the sidewalk. We were nearing my house now and I remember wishing I could savoir the moment a little longer. 

“Um there’s a killer on the loose, remember?” His response - like most of his responses, was positively dripping with sarcasm, one of the many things I still adore about him. I nodded as we rounded a bend towards the end of my street. 

“Besides,” he paused for a moment and adjusted his grip to our intertwined fingers - something I learned later to be a nervous habit of his. 

“Isn’t this what…” He paused again to look at me and I glanced up from the sidewalk to meet his stunning gaze.

“What people like us, who have gone through what we’ve gone through, do?” He adjusts his grip again, just slightly this time. 

In that moment, I couldn’t help myself. Everything that I had pushed down for the time being had suddenly rushed to the surface. Polly. The baby. The unidentified murderer. I couldn’t believe I had let myself get so side-tracked. Jughead had painted this perfect scene from a romance novel and I had gotten swept away by a whirlwind of emotions.

“What is it? I mean besides everything?” He questions. I knew the answer to that, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. 

“She wouldn’t have run away if it wasn’t for me Jug…” 

I had felt so selfish in that moment. I couldn’t believe I had gotten so caught up in him that I forgot everything. I could see him looking at me but I couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Betty, your parents were the ones lying to her, and keeping her in the dark. You did the right thing, telling her the truth.” I knew he was right. Of course he was right. I let my eyes flicker up to meet his. That boy was as beautiful as ever, with his beanie draped over his dark messy curls and the few perfect freckles that graced his skin. Just like that he had me drawn in again. I needed to be worrying about Polly, not ogling Jug. 

“It’s funny, this isn’t the first time, Polly’s run away from home.” I paused and drew in a deep breath. 

“She was nine. She and my mom had gotten into this huge fight and she disappeared for hours. The whole neighborhood was out looking for her.” I smiled at the memory. Polly had always tested our parents, always so strong and independent. 

Jughead - with his signature half smile - exhaled and asked me how far she had gotten and thinking back the memory, had caused me to blink repeatedly. I knew where she was. I knew where Polly was hiding. I stopped abruptly and he looked at me, obvious concern written across his face. 

“What?” He asked trying to read the situation. 

When I opened my mouth to try and explain, I closed it again. My eyes met his and I decided it would definitely be a better to keep this to myself. At least for now. 

I quickly pecked him on the lips and said “Thank you, for walking me home. I’ll call you later. Goodnight.” Then I ran away from him, from Jughead, with a smile on my face and triumph whipping through my blonde ponytail. If only I had a picture.