Jughead raised a brow at his screen as it lit up multiple times, closing his laptop and setting it aside.

He laughed at the multitude of texts on his screen, opening his phone and going to the messages app.

He could almost see her eye roll.

He left the text space blank for a minute for effect, typing again after another moment.

When she didn't text back quickly, panic settled into his veins.

He sighed, clenching his jaw.

He let out a deep breath, squeezing his eyes closed. He was too emotional, too open, too vulnerable. Nobody wants someone like that. They're high maintenance, annoying. He probably just fucked this up massively.

He watched the read receipt go from two minutes then to three then to five and so on until it got to thirteen. He groaned, huffing. He ran her off.

He winced at the message, his eyes glued to the text bubbles by her name.

She cried?

He chuckled at the screen, letting out a slow breath.

He sighed, feeling a twinge in his chest.

~

Betty dialed Jughead's cell number, pacing her classroom as it rang. When he answered she could hear things banging and she suddenly remembered he was at work. He cleared his throat, mumbling, "Hey."

"Hi," she breathed, smoothing her hair back. "I, um, I can call you back. I'm sorry, I completely forgot you were at work-"

"No, you're fine," he said, cutting her off. "It's a slow day today anyway. What's up?"

"It's-It's stupid," she sighed, picking up crayons off the ground.

"Betty," he chuckled. "Just tell me."

She let out a slow breath, crossing an arm over her stomach. "I, uh, have this fall project that I want to do with the kids, but I need an example or two to show them. I was just wondering if you wanted to come over and test it out with me? I understand if you can't but I'm new here and they get really confused if there's not an example."

"Do you want me to meet you at your place?" he asked and she froze. "I still have an hour of work left, I can't leave early. I did that last week and they weren't too happy about it."

"Oh," she giggled, starting to pace again. "I have to run to the store and pick up a few things anyway so I won't be home until about 5:30. Do you wanna come over at, like, 6? I can send you my address," she added softly.

"Yeah, let's do that." She let out a deep breath, nodding. "That gives me time to shower and change too. I don't really want to show up to your place filthy, that'd be rude."

She let out a breathy chuckle, nodding. "And, um, if you have to... if you want to smoke, I-I don't care. You don't have to go outside, it's-it's too cold to go outside anyway. I can grab a cheap ashtray-"

"Betts," he chuckled and she felt herself melt. He texted it often, but he didn't say it much. When he did, she turned to putty. "I think I'll be okay."

"Well, just-just in case," she said quickly. "You say you'll be fine now but then you might get there and be like 'oh my god, I need to smoke' and then you can't smoke because there's no ashtray and then that means you'll have to leave... e-early."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he breathed and she started to chew her lip. "It almost sounds like you want me to smoke."

"What? No," she breathed, giggling and clearing her throat. "That's-That's crazy."

He sighed, saying, "Well, you should definitely get a cheap ashtray just in case. What would we do if I had to leave early?"

"I don't... I-I don't know," she whispered and he chuckled.

"Send me your address, I'll be there at 6. I gotta go back to work," he mumbled. "See you later."

"See you later," she breathed and he ended the call.

Betty fixed her hair in the mirror for the twelfth time in the last six minutes. She checked her outfit, wincing. It didn't look good, but she wasn't supposed to look like she was trying to super hard—he'd know something was up.

"Oh," she whined when there was a knock on the door, grabbing her sweater off of the bed and hurrying up the stairs. She pulled it around herself as she unlocked the door, breathing deeply before she pulled it open.

"Hi," she said with a smile and he nodded. "Um, come-come in." She stepped back, tucking her hair behind her ear as she ran her eyes over her living room.

"This place is cute," he commented, giving her a smile. "Lots of plants and it's cleaner than my apartment."

"Hinting that you're a slob," she muttered under her breath and he chuckled.

"No," he droned. "I have cat hair and blankets everywhere. I rarely make it to my bed at night and Jinx is shedding like it's going to be 102 degrees tomorrow. Not to mention his toys are everywhere and my dishwasher is about to explode if I don't start it soon. I'm down to my last two cups."

"Promise me you'll do your dishes when you go home," Betty sighed and he weighed the idea.

"You might have to remind me," he said with a shrug.

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. "You can take your jacket off," she said after a moment. They were still standing by the door, neither of them knowing what to do. "I left the stuff downstairs," she mumbled to herself, sighing. "Um, sit-sit down on the... somewhere. I have to... grab the stuff. I'll be right back," she said over her shoulder before she walked off down the stairs.

Jughead let out a deep breath, looking around her apartment. He looked down at his shoes and made note that she wasn't wearing any. He bent over, pulling on the laces and slipping out of them. He set them on the mat by the door, pushing his hands into his pockets. He sighed, carefully walking over to the couch and sitting down.

"Okay," Betty breathed, walking back upstairs. "Sorry. I forgot the bag downstairs," she chuckled, sitting next to him but leaving space between the two of them.

"What are we doing?" he asked and she laughed.

"Glitter's involved-"

"Glitter?" he interrupted. "You're going to use glitter with, like, 30 first graders?"

"Stupid, I know," she mumbled, starting to pull things out of the bag. "But I am still going to attempt it. And glitter is cute and fun. I had to at least try it."

"So what is it? A leaf?" he asked and she nodded.

"Mm-hm," she hummed. "So basically you choose a piece of colored paper—red, orange, yellow, brown or green—and you take a template—I made it all by myself—and you trace it. Then, after it's traced, you cut it out. After that's cut out, you cut out a picture of you—for them and me, it's our school pictures but for you, it's a picture of you."

"I don't have any pictures of me," he lied.

She narrowed her eyes, scrunching up her face. "I beg to differ," she said and he leaned back.

"Why's that?" he asked.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Jug, you have to have at least one picture of yourself. I don't care how old it is, you have a picture of you, I'm certain of it."

"You'll just keep telling me that until I get the picture of me, won't you?" he questioned. She grinned, nodding. "Fine, but it has to be printed."

"That's okay," she giggled. "Mine has to be printed too. They all do."

"Of course they do," he mumbled and she chuckled. "So what's the glitter for?"

"Mm, yes!" she exclaimed. "So you know, like, the veins on a leaf? Well, after putting your picture on, you make the veins with glue and then cover the glue with glitter. I think it's going to look cool."

"I suck at arts and crafts," he said and she giggled.

"And so do 6-year-olds. You're not alone," she said with a pat on his shoulder. He chuckled, sighing. "Okay, choose your paper color."

They had migrated off of the couch and onto the floor, both of their backs resting against it. They also each had skipped dinner and had equally gone through three and a half beers. It was late, almost 10 o'clock, but they had gotten lost talking for hours.

"It looks... great," Betty forced and Jughead laughed, Betty following. "It's cute, really. I like it, you did good."

"Did good? You call this doing good?" he laughed, holding up his leaf. The cutting was crooked and the 'veins' were lopsided. "If this is good, then you took 4 years of art school."

"Jug, you probably haven't done something like this in years. The last time you used glitter was probably in fifth grade," she giggled.

"For your information," he started dramatically and she laughed, sipping from her beer. "The last time I used glitter was at a concert. Toni had us all put it on, like, under our eyes and stuff. It looked cool but it got everywhere."

"Glitter is very messy," Betty winced. "But it's fun. I like glitter."

"Trust me, I know you like glitter." She frowned and he laughed. "Your eyes were huge when you were using it—you have a thing for glitter."

She huffed, shoving him lightly. "Who hates glitter? Nobody hates glitter!" she said brightly, setting her beer on the coffee table. "Glitter is sparkly and it's pretty and... it's glitter."

He chuckled, smirking. "Yes, it's glitter."

"Stop," she laughed and he shook his head. She glanced over at him, letting out a deep breath. The look in his eyes was one she hadn't seen from him before. It was lust, that she knew, and it had her heart racing.

She swallowed thickly, her eyes running over his face before they met his lips. She bit her bottom lip, mindlessly starting to close the gap between them.

Just before their lips met she sighed, placing her hand on his chest and ducking her head to his shoulder.

"I can't," she whispered and he let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Jug. It's-It's not you—God, it's not you—I'm just not ready yet. I-I..." She picked her head up, brushing his hair off of his forehead. "I'm not ready for that yet."

He gave her a small smile, nodding. "That's okay," he whispered. "You're allowed to not be ready. I'm not going to get upset, I understand." She moved away from him, looking down at her lap. "Can I ask why you're not ready?"

She sighed, tucking hair behind her ear and looking up at him. "I feel like all of my past relationships were built on sex. And all those past relationships didn't work. And I'm not saying they didn't work because of the sex, but I feel like the sex had a part in it. Also, I'm not saying that if we kissed it would have led to sex at all-"