[ What's he like? Archie wants to ask. Veronica and her mother make sense; there's such a clear sense of connection that it's hard for Archie to consider anyone else being necessary to form their family unit. They feel finished in a way Archie and Fred don't, to Archie's line of thinking. But Veronica's tone dips and she's talking avoidance, not welcome, so Archie just focuses on the way their fingers lace together and lets it pass.
He'll ask later. Someday. Probably around the same time he and Veronica circle around to more serious things, though the conversation is already inevitably inching towards that territory. ]
I'll call him in the morning.
[ And hope he answered. ]
I wanted to believe he'd have gotten rid of that stupid jacket by the time I got back. Jug's smarter than this.
[ Smart isn't really the word Archie means. Archie's his friend. They've been attached at the hip since they were small, Archie's mess of a summer notwithstanding. He wants to believe that connection is stronger than whatever the Serpents are promising. ]
[There are a number of things to say, but none of them seem appropriate after that final question. Veronica would like to point out that what's going on with Jughead is likely less a matter of intelligence, and more a matter of feeling lost. She doesn't know Jughead well—but she's picked up enough from Betty's discomfort and allusions along the way to figure out that he just wanted his family back together. She can sympathize with that. She's been there. Seeking out a family where he doesn't feel like a ruinous splotch is probably—well. It's fair.
She just doesn't expect Archie to get that. Not right away. He's coming from a different angle, with a father who believes in doing right and having morals and a number of other things. Archie's naive belief that they can just talk things out comes from a very obvious source: Fred Andrews himself. In a lot of ways, he's a rabbit among snakes. Veronica knows better than to exclude herself.
Which is why the next bit comes out of her mouth:]
I want to. I'm not even sure I should be here. It's not fair to you. ... Or to me. [They know what lies ahead. It goes unspoken.] But I missed this ... you. We didn't even get our second date set.
[ The more serious topics of conversation drop, and Archie's relieved for a split second. He's being selfish, maybe. Insulating himself for an entire summer while life went on in Riverdale and his friends dealt with the fallout of the secret they'd dragged into the open was likely a selfish thing to do. Archie's fingers twist restlessly though Veronica's as she speaks, before settling back to lace their hands firmly together. ]
You can stay if you want. It's not...I don't think it's unfair. Not to me, at least.
[ Though Archie didn't always have the best grasp of what is and isn't fair. But he still doesn't take to the idea of unfairness Veronica's presenting to him, though her own well being pulls him up. ]
This is just about the best welcome home party I could have gotten, Ronnie. But I'll understand if you don't stay. I get it.
[Reason tells her that staying is wrong, but that's in the bigger picture. In the immediate moment, she's holding the hand of the boy she's missed all summer. She's kissed other guys, but it was always one-offs, never sex, never anything that would amount to anything. They had broken up, they had, but Veronica wonders if she fooled herself when she believed she wasn't counting down the days to ... this. Here. Him.
Veronica lifts up his hand, fingers still twined, but all with the intention of pushing him and it back, hand placed over his head, fingers untangling and retangling as he finds herself satisfied by the closeness that she's brought them to.]
I'm worried about what's going to happen to you when I leave. To us. [But she knows her father won't hurt her, not in the way he might her mother.]
But I think, ultimately ... [Her eyes find his here, as her body shifts more comfortably so her body is placed over his, legs on each side.] It's unfair to leave. For both of us. [They can make it work. And if there's anything about straddling Archie Andrews, it's that it sends a big message.]
[ None of Veronica's concerns are unfounded. Archie worries about what's coming next, and he worries about his father's safety here. They could still be in danger. But it's hard to feel any of that with Veronica holding his hand. She pushes and Archie yields, back hitting the mattress as Veronica's weight settles into his lap. His fingers tighten on her hand without any attempt to tug free. ]
I'm going to be fine, [ Archie promises. ] No matter what happens, we're going to be alright.
[ They'll be friends, even if they aren't together. Archie can't imagine not caring for her. Even if his breathing's gone shallow as his free hand palms over her thigh, hips hitching up, it doesn't change the simple fact that this is about more than sex. He cares for Veronica deeply. As flighty as Archie can be, he's certain that won't change. ]
Can I kiss you? Is that okay?
[ Even though Veronica's in his lap, Archie still asks. He doesn't want to misunderstand. If Veronica keeps moving and tips out of his lap to leave, Archie would let her, even if he's choking on how much he's missed her. He's spent a whole summer wanting to be close to her, and that's abruptly overwhelming for him. ]
That you even thought to ask is exactly why I like you, Archie Andrews. [The urge for the pet name to slip out instead is there, but there's something that restrains her. Veronica believes in the importance of names, of knowing how significant it is to hold on to that. Once they leave this room, her name—the Lodge of it all—will change and influence every choice they make. Once they leave, Hiram Lodge will throw his name around, and he'll try to smother the Andrews of it all. Knowing him, he has a plan.
And that's assuming it didn't start with Fred's now-permanent limp.
Her hand frees his hand, drawing back to feather over his jaw. She's missed him, and it hurts a little how much she has. It's weird for her, weird to comprehend that, weird to understand how significant this is and how significant she needs it to be.]
Of course you can kiss me. [She leans in close, breath close to his mouth, inviting him in. There's only a second that passes before Veronica herself loses patience and completes the connection there, hips shifting down against his with ease.]
[ Kissing Veronica feels like an affirmation. Breaking off what had been sparking between them had been the right thing to do, and Archie doesn't have any doubts about that. But it all kindles back to life the minute their lips touch. Archie thinks he'll need to hold onto that in the daylight, when he and Fred both have to square off against whatever is waiting for them in the once idyllic town of Riverdale. ]
I missed you so much, [ Archie whispers, telling her again as if she hadn't believed him the first time. ] And I really missed kissing you.
[ They're good at kissing. There's no point in talking about how Archie got so good at kissing. It was never meant to be a topic of conversation, and it certainly doesn't need to be one now that he's finally putting his hands back in Veronica's hair and tipping his head back obligingly to invite her in. He and Veronica had known how to fit together from the beginning, from those seven fateful minutes in the closet. A summer apart hadn't eroded that. ]
[There's something so ... well, the first word that would come to mind for Veronica is simple, but that's not right at all. No, a better word is idyllic. There's something so idyllic about kissing Archie Andrews. Veronica knows that she's the prototypical big city girl who's found herself enamored with the small town boy who's just a little too sheltered to know the ugliness of the world. It's a trope that she'd only like in fiction when it's done right. Living it out, on the other hand, is something else. It's hard to explain.
Maybe it's because it's something outside of those roles. They both want to be good, but are considerably clumsy in their handling of that. Maybe it's something else. Veronica just knows that she connects with him on a level that almost scares her sometimes. She's the most sentimental person alive, and she knows exactly what sentiment flows into this bond.
Veronica can't help but push an amused sound against his mouth when he says he missed kissing her, because that, too, is almost ... scripted. Perfect. But in that way where it's neither of those things. Archie's a walking cliché at times, but in the most earnest, well-meaning way possible. And she's okay with that.]
It was a very good idea to hit pause on this, [she says, mouth lingering over his. Veronica has zero intention of ending this.] It means ... that we can both hit play again now that we're ready. [Another cliché? Somehow, she can't help it.]
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no subject
He'll ask later. Someday. Probably around the same time he and Veronica circle around to more serious things, though the conversation is already inevitably inching towards that territory. ]
I'll call him in the morning.
[ And hope he answered. ]
I wanted to believe he'd have gotten rid of that stupid jacket by the time I got back. Jug's smarter than this.
[ Smart isn't really the word Archie means. Archie's his friend. They've been attached at the hip since they were small, Archie's mess of a summer notwithstanding. He wants to believe that connection is stronger than whatever the Serpents are promising. ]
Are you going to stay?
no subject
She just doesn't expect Archie to get that. Not right away. He's coming from a different angle, with a father who believes in doing right and having morals and a number of other things. Archie's naive belief that they can just talk things out comes from a very obvious source: Fred Andrews himself. In a lot of ways, he's a rabbit among snakes. Veronica knows better than to exclude herself.
Which is why the next bit comes out of her mouth:]
I want to. I'm not even sure I should be here. It's not fair to you. ... Or to me. [They know what lies ahead. It goes unspoken.] But I missed this ... you. We didn't even get our second date set.
no subject
You can stay if you want. It's not...I don't think it's unfair. Not to me, at least.
[ Though Archie didn't always have the best grasp of what is and isn't fair. But he still doesn't take to the idea of unfairness Veronica's presenting to him, though her own well being pulls him up. ]
This is just about the best welcome home party I could have gotten, Ronnie. But I'll understand if you don't stay. I get it.
no subject
Veronica lifts up his hand, fingers still twined, but all with the intention of pushing him and it back, hand placed over his head, fingers untangling and retangling as he finds herself satisfied by the closeness that she's brought them to.]
I'm worried about what's going to happen to you when I leave. To us. [But she knows her father won't hurt her, not in the way he might her mother.]
But I think, ultimately ... [Her eyes find his here, as her body shifts more comfortably so her body is placed over his, legs on each side.] It's unfair to leave. For both of us. [They can make it work. And if there's anything about straddling Archie Andrews, it's that it sends a big message.]
no subject
I'm going to be fine, [ Archie promises. ] No matter what happens, we're going to be alright.
[ They'll be friends, even if they aren't together. Archie can't imagine not caring for her. Even if his breathing's gone shallow as his free hand palms over her thigh, hips hitching up, it doesn't change the simple fact that this is about more than sex. He cares for Veronica deeply. As flighty as Archie can be, he's certain that won't change. ]
Can I kiss you? Is that okay?
[ Even though Veronica's in his lap, Archie still asks. He doesn't want to misunderstand. If Veronica keeps moving and tips out of his lap to leave, Archie would let her, even if he's choking on how much he's missed her. He's spent a whole summer wanting to be close to her, and that's abruptly overwhelming for him. ]
no subject
And that's assuming it didn't start with Fred's now-permanent limp.
Her hand frees his hand, drawing back to feather over his jaw. She's missed him, and it hurts a little how much she has. It's weird for her, weird to comprehend that, weird to understand how significant this is and how significant she needs it to be.]
Of course you can kiss me. [She leans in close, breath close to his mouth, inviting him in. There's only a second that passes before Veronica herself loses patience and completes the connection there, hips shifting down against his with ease.]
no subject
I missed you so much, [ Archie whispers, telling her again as if she hadn't believed him the first time. ] And I really missed kissing you.
[ They're good at kissing. There's no point in talking about how Archie got so good at kissing. It was never meant to be a topic of conversation, and it certainly doesn't need to be one now that he's finally putting his hands back in Veronica's hair and tipping his head back obligingly to invite her in. He and Veronica had known how to fit together from the beginning, from those seven fateful minutes in the closet. A summer apart hadn't eroded that. ]
no subject
Maybe it's because it's something outside of those roles. They both want to be good, but are considerably clumsy in their handling of that. Maybe it's something else. Veronica just knows that she connects with him on a level that almost scares her sometimes. She's the most sentimental person alive, and she knows exactly what sentiment flows into this bond.
Veronica can't help but push an amused sound against his mouth when he says he missed kissing her, because that, too, is almost ... scripted. Perfect. But in that way where it's neither of those things. Archie's a walking cliché at times, but in the most earnest, well-meaning way possible. And she's okay with that.]
It was a very good idea to hit pause on this, [she says, mouth lingering over his. Veronica has zero intention of ending this.] It means ... that we can both hit play again now that we're ready. [Another cliché? Somehow, she can't help it.]