[Her consciousness stirs just enough for her to take her book and close it at her side, turning over so that Archie can settle in beside her. Jughead's been gone long enough that the makeshift bed on the floor is missing. She's seen him enough over the summer, has been inside his foster parents' house, and she thinks he's getting the better end of the deal. But then, she's Veronica—some part of her is at least vaguely conscious that her shallow understanding of Jughead's situation is just that. Either way, in her moment of mostly being asleep, she has a hard time having any issues with Archie joining her in bed.
Or maybe that's what she'd been waiting for all along, clichés be damned.
Either way, she only wakes up a little while later, a slow smile coming to her lips as she turns toward him. Her book pokes sharply into her side, and she lifts it up as she turns into him, planting it between them like a barrier. It may or may not be necessary, but it's hard for her to decide. The look in her eyes says that it might be.
Somewhere in the breadth of keeping busy, she's been willfully removed from everything that might have to do with her parents. That includes finding out whether her father had been responsible for Fred's injury. (Though she did correct her mom on referring to it as an accident on more than one occasion.) Some part of her dreads having to deal with that now that Fred's back, now that Archie's returned—especially since it was discovered that the gunman was a man for hire down from Montreal.
But for now, she's acting as she has for the past couple of months: removed, because she knows her father is being investigated, and she's seen the simple yet very apparent threats from her father if she tries to lead anything back to him. She can see the discomfort and lack of ease in her mother's eyes. And she knows that both of them wouldn't want her to be here, stealing this moment before the shit is certain to hit the proverbial fan. They can have this moment, like nothing happened, can't they?
Veronica's fingers tease up along the line of Archie's jaw, that same smile still present.]
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Or maybe that's what she'd been waiting for all along, clichés be damned.
Either way, she only wakes up a little while later, a slow smile coming to her lips as she turns toward him. Her book pokes sharply into her side, and she lifts it up as she turns into him, planting it between them like a barrier. It may or may not be necessary, but it's hard for her to decide. The look in her eyes says that it might be.
Somewhere in the breadth of keeping busy, she's been willfully removed from everything that might have to do with her parents. That includes finding out whether her father had been responsible for Fred's injury. (Though she did correct her mom on referring to it as an accident on more than one occasion.) Some part of her dreads having to deal with that now that Fred's back, now that Archie's returned—especially since it was discovered that the gunman was a man for hire down from Montreal.
But for now, she's acting as she has for the past couple of months: removed, because she knows her father is being investigated, and she's seen the simple yet very apparent threats from her father if she tries to lead anything back to him. She can see the discomfort and lack of ease in her mother's eyes. And she knows that both of them wouldn't want her to be here, stealing this moment before the shit is certain to hit the proverbial fan. They can have this moment, like nothing happened, can't they?
Veronica's fingers tease up along the line of Archie's jaw, that same smile still present.]
Long time no see, Archiekins.