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[They break up. It's not because they want to, or because there are any dire consequences hanging over their heads, but because their relationship is still a tenuous one, especially in the aftermath of ... everything. Neither of them can remember who suggests it first, but when Archie is getting on a bus to spend the summer with his mom in Chicago, they both know they're better off this way. Or that's what they tell themselves. Archie's reluctant to leave his dad. He almost refuses, but he knows that with his dad injured and recovering, it might be better if they're both ... elsewhere for a while. Fred doesn't go to Chicago right away, but they transfer him there soon enough. The Andrews family was on sabbatical, at least for a while.
Veronica can't begin to guess how Archie feels, or perhaps she doesn't let herself. In his absence, she is blistering confidence and take charge attitude. Little prevents her from establishing herself further over the summer, making it clear that Riverdale is her home now, and nothing will change that. The absence of her boyfriend (now ex) and impending arrival of her father (boy, she sometimes wishes she could add an "ex" to that one) keeps her busy, keeps her involved—
Most importantly, Veronica is determined to not be the cliché of the girl who reluctantly dumps her boyfriend and then spends the summer slipping from one guy to another. That's boring. Sure, she goes on a date or two, but most of her time is spent with Kevin, Josie, Betty, and Jughead (with the last two's relationship troubles taking up a lot of her time—much to her relief, which she's semi-reluctant to admit ...). She takes to writing songs, as well. They aren't her best work, but they're something. Time with Josie and Valerie helps her hone her skills. She's doing stuff.
But it's Labor Day weekend and Archie's due home. Fred Andrews has been back for a few weeks, complete with a cane and a permanent limp. He's tired, he looks older, but he's getting things ready for his son. School starts on Tuesday, and though some part of her recognizes that she ought to be dreading ... oh, something, she finds herself getting Fred Andrews' permission to wait in Archie's room for him. She doesn't want to seem like the forgotten lover who couldn't wait for her beau's return—that, too, is an unfortunate cliché—but she realizes now that the haze of summer begins to clear that she did miss him. She has missed him. To pretend otherwise would be unfair to her, and possibly to him.
Veronica just doesn't want to be the girl who waited, who didn't fall for another or seek out her soulmate, only to find that the one she wants is nothing like that. That would be ... the first word that jumps to mind is "pathetic." But she knows it's more nuanced than that. Maybe it's wrong to even be here with everything that Archie's gone through, but is it better to leave him alone? Perhaps not knowing is what's pathetic. She prefers to be decisive, to act according to what comes to mind first.
Still, Veronica is a vision of being at ease, so she begins to finish her summer reading stretched in the middle of his twin-sized bed. The problem is, Paradise Lost is just a ... touch too boring for her tastes, and before Archie returns home, she's fallen asleep.
Maybe she was too busy over the summer. Yes, maybe that's it.]
Veronica can't begin to guess how Archie feels, or perhaps she doesn't let herself. In his absence, she is blistering confidence and take charge attitude. Little prevents her from establishing herself further over the summer, making it clear that Riverdale is her home now, and nothing will change that. The absence of her boyfriend (now ex) and impending arrival of her father (boy, she sometimes wishes she could add an "ex" to that one) keeps her busy, keeps her involved—
Most importantly, Veronica is determined to not be the cliché of the girl who reluctantly dumps her boyfriend and then spends the summer slipping from one guy to another. That's boring. Sure, she goes on a date or two, but most of her time is spent with Kevin, Josie, Betty, and Jughead (with the last two's relationship troubles taking up a lot of her time—much to her relief, which she's semi-reluctant to admit ...). She takes to writing songs, as well. They aren't her best work, but they're something. Time with Josie and Valerie helps her hone her skills. She's doing stuff.
But it's Labor Day weekend and Archie's due home. Fred Andrews has been back for a few weeks, complete with a cane and a permanent limp. He's tired, he looks older, but he's getting things ready for his son. School starts on Tuesday, and though some part of her recognizes that she ought to be dreading ... oh, something, she finds herself getting Fred Andrews' permission to wait in Archie's room for him. She doesn't want to seem like the forgotten lover who couldn't wait for her beau's return—that, too, is an unfortunate cliché—but she realizes now that the haze of summer begins to clear that she did miss him. She has missed him. To pretend otherwise would be unfair to her, and possibly to him.
Veronica just doesn't want to be the girl who waited, who didn't fall for another or seek out her soulmate, only to find that the one she wants is nothing like that. That would be ... the first word that jumps to mind is "pathetic." But she knows it's more nuanced than that. Maybe it's wrong to even be here with everything that Archie's gone through, but is it better to leave him alone? Perhaps not knowing is what's pathetic. She prefers to be decisive, to act according to what comes to mind first.
Still, Veronica is a vision of being at ease, so she begins to finish her summer reading stretched in the middle of his twin-sized bed. The problem is, Paradise Lost is just a ... touch too boring for her tastes, and before Archie returns home, she's fallen asleep.
Maybe she was too busy over the summer. Yes, maybe that's it.]
Edited (narratively touching some stuff up) 2017-05-30 05:10 (UTC)
[Leave it to Cheryl to make an event out of something that shouldn't be an event. This time? It's the after-party of the back to school Semi-Formal. Oh, Veronica's been here before, chosen to head into the closet for the wild ride of seven minutes in heaven. Of course, things were different last time. Hell, even Cheryl's different, but she apparently felt it was important that the new Blossom residence should be Christened with some rather old and exciting activities.
Veronica doesn't ... really agree with the choice, but some part of her understands where Cheryl is coming from. Really. Okay, so, last year's makeout session in a closet had caused some problems, but things are better now. And teenagers kissing in the oversized closet of a brand new locale isn't so different from anything else that could be seen as normal—so, it works for her. Somewhat. Besides, outside of this, Cheryl ... has changed. Somewhat. She'll always be an odd one.
But won't they all?
Either way, she was chosen, and Veronica offers a quick roll of her eyes at Cheryl. "Don't rig the bottle so it stops on you," she teases her friend (because Veronica has a natch for making friends with the unlikely sorts, it's just how she is).
It doesn't stop on her (though Cheryl gives an irritated purse of her mouth before the bottle comes to a halt, one that Veronica doesn't entirely know how to read), but on Betty.
And ... here they are.]
It's different in here. Well, obviously. But I was a little worried they'd match their previously much too red interior design. [Veronica flicks her eyes upward over their surroundings before they firmly meet Betty's.] Are we going to sweat them out, or—? [The question lingers.
Though some familiar faces outside might be hurt by what could happen in here, things are ... unsteady. Unsurprisingly. And in that time, Veronica has continued to wonder about a lot of things when it comes to matters of the heart. A lot.]
Veronica doesn't ... really agree with the choice, but some part of her understands where Cheryl is coming from. Really. Okay, so, last year's makeout session in a closet had caused some problems, but things are better now. And teenagers kissing in the oversized closet of a brand new locale isn't so different from anything else that could be seen as normal—so, it works for her. Somewhat. Besides, outside of this, Cheryl ... has changed. Somewhat. She'll always be an odd one.
But won't they all?
Either way, she was chosen, and Veronica offers a quick roll of her eyes at Cheryl. "Don't rig the bottle so it stops on you," she teases her friend (because Veronica has a natch for making friends with the unlikely sorts, it's just how she is).
It doesn't stop on her (though Cheryl gives an irritated purse of her mouth before the bottle comes to a halt, one that Veronica doesn't entirely know how to read), but on Betty.
And ... here they are.]
It's different in here. Well, obviously. But I was a little worried they'd match their previously much too red interior design. [Veronica flicks her eyes upward over their surroundings before they firmly meet Betty's.] Are we going to sweat them out, or—? [The question lingers.
Though some familiar faces outside might be hurt by what could happen in here, things are ... unsteady. Unsurprisingly. And in that time, Veronica has continued to wonder about a lot of things when it comes to matters of the heart. A lot.]
[ Betty's never really been much at ease in Cheryl's company. Even now that everyone is ostensibly getting along again, even now that they've made the discovery of a family connection, Betty sometimes thinks that there might just be too much personal history there to ever truly overcome. But they're both trying, they really are... And Betty knows that a large part of that is also for Veronica's sake.
She can't really explain why it perturbs her so much that the two of them have become such good friends, since it's not like it really takes anything away from her own friendship with the other girl. Although she suspects that if Cheryl had her way, then it would be V&C, not B&V. But it's still Betty that Veronica calls for support at the end of a hard day; that she sneaks out of the Pembrooke to go out with on midnight drives together; that she shares countless milkshakes with at Pop's. So she has no real excusable reason for the immense feeling of relief that floods over her when the bottle passes by Cheryl and lands on her instead.
The closet isn't cramped by any means but she finds herself standing barely a foot away from Veronica, which she initially justifies as simply wanting to be able to actually see her friend in the dim lighting. But now, she thinks she might understand -- quite intimately -- what must have compelled Archie to want to kiss the other girl under such similar circumstances. Veronica's gaze doesn't waver and Betty swallows thickly around the growing lump in her own throat. ]
It's not like we haven't kissed before. [ She finally blurts out. ]
She can't really explain why it perturbs her so much that the two of them have become such good friends, since it's not like it really takes anything away from her own friendship with the other girl. Although she suspects that if Cheryl had her way, then it would be V&C, not B&V. But it's still Betty that Veronica calls for support at the end of a hard day; that she sneaks out of the Pembrooke to go out with on midnight drives together; that she shares countless milkshakes with at Pop's. So she has no real excusable reason for the immense feeling of relief that floods over her when the bottle passes by Cheryl and lands on her instead.
The closet isn't cramped by any means but she finds herself standing barely a foot away from Veronica, which she initially justifies as simply wanting to be able to actually see her friend in the dim lighting. But now, she thinks she might understand -- quite intimately -- what must have compelled Archie to want to kiss the other girl under such similar circumstances. Veronica's gaze doesn't waver and Betty swallows thickly around the growing lump in her own throat. ]
It's not like we haven't kissed before. [ She finally blurts out. ]
No, it isn't. [Veronica's visible ease with which she moves through life continues into here, though she knows somehow that this has the chance to be way more complicated than it needs to be. Or, well, that it can develop into that. Every time she's tried to write off something as "nothing more than a moment," it's come back to bite her in the ass. She knows better now. In improving herself, she knows that she's utterly changed who she is—sentimentality doesn't pass her by. It's a part of who she is these days.]
But I think we can both agree that what we did that day and what we might do in here are both entirely different things. As far as I know, Cheryl hasn't planted any cameras in here. It's just you and me. [There wouldn't be a camera in there if it were Cheryl instead of Betty, which is why she points this out. Given everything that happens in Riverdale, it wouldn't be completely unusual for someone to film two girls making out in a closet. In fact, Veronica could almost expect such a thing to occur.
She knows that her ability to bond with ease with just about anyone can be seen as contentious, as if she has a fleeting, malleable identity that's built more upon looking good and doing the right thing than any integrity. Hell, some part of her worries about it. But she wants to be good, to have things be good, which is why she's tried to work with a more candid approach with Betty.
That said, Veronica feels like this is a ball that needs to be in Betty's court. How she perceives this will also guide how they kiss, if they kiss, how long they will kiss—and whether they enjoy it. She'd prefer the last thing to be a conditional factor. Whatever is chosen, it has to be good—for both of them. And in that, it won't be about what pieces she's sliding into place, but what makes Betty feel like she has a handle on all of this.]
But I think we can both agree that what we did that day and what we might do in here are both entirely different things. As far as I know, Cheryl hasn't planted any cameras in here. It's just you and me. [There wouldn't be a camera in there if it were Cheryl instead of Betty, which is why she points this out. Given everything that happens in Riverdale, it wouldn't be completely unusual for someone to film two girls making out in a closet. In fact, Veronica could almost expect such a thing to occur.
She knows that her ability to bond with ease with just about anyone can be seen as contentious, as if she has a fleeting, malleable identity that's built more upon looking good and doing the right thing than any integrity. Hell, some part of her worries about it. But she wants to be good, to have things be good, which is why she's tried to work with a more candid approach with Betty.
That said, Veronica feels like this is a ball that needs to be in Betty's court. How she perceives this will also guide how they kiss, if they kiss, how long they will kiss—and whether they enjoy it. She'd prefer the last thing to be a conditional factor. Whatever is chosen, it has to be good—for both of them. And in that, it won't be about what pieces she's sliding into place, but what makes Betty feel like she has a handle on all of this.]
Edited (wrong icon) 2017-05-31 22:35 (UTC)
[ Fred says it first, in the hospital after surgery: We're going to need to go stay with your mother. And Archie knows it makes sense. His dad needs to be taken care of, and Archie can't do it all on his own. But the idea of leaving makes his heat seize up. He hyperventilates in the hallway, panicky about how final the idea of Chicago feels to him. But what can he say? Archie is selfish at the best of times, but he has his father's blood staining his cast and the cuff of his letterman jacket. It's a very effective deterrent. The plaster doesn't get changed out until he's in Chicago in an unfamiliar doctor's office with his mother waiting outside the door for him. It all feels wrong.
The blood had been there when he'd said goodbye to Veronica. He still thinks about her, and maybe that's a good sign. Archie's flighty, and he knows that about himself, but his thoughts over the summer circle back to Veronica after he trips over missing Jughead and Betty.
His mother tries to make a case for the kind of life Archie could have if he stayed with her. No one says that explicitly, and it might take Archie a week to cotton on to what's happening, but he figures it out. And he gets so angry over it that he has to go on a long, twisting run rather than risk an argument. His father's face is pinched and grey with pain most days, and a fight would make it worse. Archie's answer come when Fred's buying himself a plane ticket home, and Archie asks for one too.
Neither of them want him to go. Archie's upset about that too. The anxiety over it carries him through the last month of his time with his mother, and all the way through the journey home. Dread's starting to creep in. Archie hasn't kept in close enough contact. He doesn't know what he's missed, and he worries about what he's coming home to. But Fred collects him from the airport and things are almost back to normal.
Neither of them mention getting take out from Pops.
There's a surprise for you upstairs, Fred tells him, and Archie had expected a guitar, maybe. Something his father couldn't really afford to smooth over the wretched summer they'd had. He hadn't expected Veronica, and he didn't have the heart to wake her. He toes off his Converse and crawls in beside her, nudging her gently to make room.
They aren't together. Archie knows that. But he missed her, and he thinks this is alright. He's shared beds with Jughead and with Betty both. They can do this. ]
The blood had been there when he'd said goodbye to Veronica. He still thinks about her, and maybe that's a good sign. Archie's flighty, and he knows that about himself, but his thoughts over the summer circle back to Veronica after he trips over missing Jughead and Betty.
His mother tries to make a case for the kind of life Archie could have if he stayed with her. No one says that explicitly, and it might take Archie a week to cotton on to what's happening, but he figures it out. And he gets so angry over it that he has to go on a long, twisting run rather than risk an argument. His father's face is pinched and grey with pain most days, and a fight would make it worse. Archie's answer come when Fred's buying himself a plane ticket home, and Archie asks for one too.
Neither of them want him to go. Archie's upset about that too. The anxiety over it carries him through the last month of his time with his mother, and all the way through the journey home. Dread's starting to creep in. Archie hasn't kept in close enough contact. He doesn't know what he's missed, and he worries about what he's coming home to. But Fred collects him from the airport and things are almost back to normal.
Neither of them mention getting take out from Pops.
There's a surprise for you upstairs, Fred tells him, and Archie had expected a guitar, maybe. Something his father couldn't really afford to smooth over the wretched summer they'd had. He hadn't expected Veronica, and he didn't have the heart to wake her. He toes off his Converse and crawls in beside her, nudging her gently to make room.
They aren't together. Archie knows that. But he missed her, and he thinks this is alright. He's shared beds with Jughead and with Betty both. They can do this. ]
[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.]
Long time no see, Archiekins.
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.
[ Things with Jughead are admittedly not the greatest right now. To some extent she understands why he's doing what he is -- ingratiating himself with the Serpents, accepting a place among them as family. It affords him the kind of protection that he sorely needs with his dad behind bars and his mom hundreds of miles away and seemingly uninterested in helping her son. Even though she still strongly believes that he would be better off in the long run if he'd let go of his pride for a moment and allow her, allow Archie, to continue to help as they've been doing so loyally all along, she tries not to begrudge his decision so much when she can't even begin to imagine how difficult everything's been on him this last year.
But it's hard not to let the negative thoughts creep in when he's had to make some sacrifices which have invariably placed a strain on their relationship, no matter how much he's promised her that nothing has changed about the way he feels about her. Maybe it's not his fault at the end of the day but then maybe it's not hers either if she finds herself longing for something more than he can apparently give her right now. She's a person, after all -- not just a dispenser of comfort and consolation when it's still convenient for Jughead to act like her boyfriend.
To Betty's credit, the thought of using Veronica to try and somehow make Jughead jealous never once crosses her mind. That being said, the thought of using Veronica to make herself feel better is a little less avoidable given the circumstances but then it isn't like she explicitly concocted this whole scenario for her own benefit. It's a game that they had both, for better or worse, allowed themselves to get dragged into playing.
But deep down she knows that isn't entirely true. Kevin has made more than a few veiled insinuations about the exact nature of B&V since the day that Veronica had first come sailing into their lives. Most of it had just been harmless teasing, never given a second consideration, but a few of his more recent comments in particular had struck her harder than she had wanted to admit at the time, drawing to the surface -- even if just for a fleeting moment -- the idea that her closeness with the other girl might fall somewhere left of 'normal.'
And it's true that she finds Veronica to be attractive. Anyone with eyes could plainly see as much. Even now, Betty's stomach flip-flops and her pulse leaps with the close proximity they share and the anticipation of what might be coming next. ]
Isn't it always? [ Betty's response sounds measured this time and her voice has lowered rather than pitched higher with nervousness as it's normally prone to doing. It's not that she isn't scared. She's terrified, honestly, but she's also quite suddenly filled with a certain feeling of inevitability. ] You and me?
[ Her hands gently settle on either side of Veronica's waist as if to underscore their connectedness. ]
But it's hard not to let the negative thoughts creep in when he's had to make some sacrifices which have invariably placed a strain on their relationship, no matter how much he's promised her that nothing has changed about the way he feels about her. Maybe it's not his fault at the end of the day but then maybe it's not hers either if she finds herself longing for something more than he can apparently give her right now. She's a person, after all -- not just a dispenser of comfort and consolation when it's still convenient for Jughead to act like her boyfriend.
To Betty's credit, the thought of using Veronica to try and somehow make Jughead jealous never once crosses her mind. That being said, the thought of using Veronica to make herself feel better is a little less avoidable given the circumstances but then it isn't like she explicitly concocted this whole scenario for her own benefit. It's a game that they had both, for better or worse, allowed themselves to get dragged into playing.
But deep down she knows that isn't entirely true. Kevin has made more than a few veiled insinuations about the exact nature of B&V since the day that Veronica had first come sailing into their lives. Most of it had just been harmless teasing, never given a second consideration, but a few of his more recent comments in particular had struck her harder than she had wanted to admit at the time, drawing to the surface -- even if just for a fleeting moment -- the idea that her closeness with the other girl might fall somewhere left of 'normal.'
And it's true that she finds Veronica to be attractive. Anyone with eyes could plainly see as much. Even now, Betty's stomach flip-flops and her pulse leaps with the close proximity they share and the anticipation of what might be coming next. ]
Isn't it always? [ Betty's response sounds measured this time and her voice has lowered rather than pitched higher with nervousness as it's normally prone to doing. It's not that she isn't scared. She's terrified, honestly, but she's also quite suddenly filled with a certain feeling of inevitability. ] You and me?
[ Her hands gently settle on either side of Veronica's waist as if to underscore their connectedness. ]
[The strain that exists between Jughead and Betty is there between Veronica and Archie. The latter two are currently at a different kind of impasse—broken up, almost out of necessity, following the active investigation into her father's involvement with Fred's injury. They're back to a "will they or won't they" that's exhausting for Veronica, especially since she'd rather just be there for Archie right now. The pain he feels is real. The guilt she feels at potentially being the child of the man who nearly ended Fred Andrews' life is also palpable. There's nothing she can do about it.
Everyone knows about this strain and the issues there, but Veronica has done her best to shoulder it all and carry on. What else can she do? It's not like she's a stranger to what her parents are capable of, and now it feels like it hit even closer, even harder than before. Even trying to be there for Archie feels like an act meant to make herself feel better. After Ethel, she knows better than to push, and this is a greater extreme.
All of this is why she welcomed this weird act of renewal on Cheryl's part, especially since Cheryl herself is now a very clearly labeled pariah among the Riverdale community. Dealing with that felt ... easier. Cheryl is her friend, even if their relationship sometimes steers sharply into the enemies part of frenemies, but lately it's been more friendly. Almost out of necessity. Almost because it has to be that way.
In all of this, she's done her best to be there for Betty, to try to help her understand Jughead's mindset. But it's complicated, at least on her end. She had connected with Betty all but immediately, had envisioned a life with them side by side. Their pact had been important. Now that their relationships were on the rocks (or just ruins on the rocks, as it may be), it feels more complicated. Kevin's comments toward Betty are ones that Veronica has been privy to, because that's just how it is, but they were more fleeting in her presence. Now, she can't help but feel like her ease and smiles and everything else were hiding some very apparent signs that were always there.
She had said that Betty and Jughead seemed like soulmates. She believed it. Who says you can't have two? Whose soul is only linked to one other person?]
Nothing changes that. Nothing comes between that. We made a pact. [Some part of her is aware that Betty might be doing this to make herself feel better, and that part wars with the same part of her that wants this—because Veronica wants to feel better, too. It feels like an easy answer in the midst of all their pain.]
If we do this, we'll have to be prepared for what comes next. It's not just a game. [Veronica voices this because, at times, as bold and loud as she can be, she's willing to be the voice of reason. When she had kissed Archie that day, she had pretended it was just the game, had allowed herself to slip into the feeling of selfishness that led to her kissing him. But she knew better, deep down; she knows better now.]
Everyone knows about this strain and the issues there, but Veronica has done her best to shoulder it all and carry on. What else can she do? It's not like she's a stranger to what her parents are capable of, and now it feels like it hit even closer, even harder than before. Even trying to be there for Archie feels like an act meant to make herself feel better. After Ethel, she knows better than to push, and this is a greater extreme.
All of this is why she welcomed this weird act of renewal on Cheryl's part, especially since Cheryl herself is now a very clearly labeled pariah among the Riverdale community. Dealing with that felt ... easier. Cheryl is her friend, even if their relationship sometimes steers sharply into the enemies part of frenemies, but lately it's been more friendly. Almost out of necessity. Almost because it has to be that way.
In all of this, she's done her best to be there for Betty, to try to help her understand Jughead's mindset. But it's complicated, at least on her end. She had connected with Betty all but immediately, had envisioned a life with them side by side. Their pact had been important. Now that their relationships were on the rocks (or just ruins on the rocks, as it may be), it feels more complicated. Kevin's comments toward Betty are ones that Veronica has been privy to, because that's just how it is, but they were more fleeting in her presence. Now, she can't help but feel like her ease and smiles and everything else were hiding some very apparent signs that were always there.
She had said that Betty and Jughead seemed like soulmates. She believed it. Who says you can't have two? Whose soul is only linked to one other person?]
Nothing changes that. Nothing comes between that. We made a pact. [Some part of her is aware that Betty might be doing this to make herself feel better, and that part wars with the same part of her that wants this—because Veronica wants to feel better, too. It feels like an easy answer in the midst of all their pain.]
If we do this, we'll have to be prepared for what comes next. It's not just a game. [Veronica voices this because, at times, as bold and loud as she can be, she's willing to be the voice of reason. When she had kissed Archie that day, she had pretended it was just the game, had allowed herself to slip into the feeling of selfishness that led to her kissing him. But she knew better, deep down; she knows better now.]
[ Once upon a time the thought of their breakup might have brought her some selfish feeling of relief but the truth is that Betty has felt quite earnestly sad for the both of them. It certainly hasn't been easy watching the slow decline of Archie and Veronica from lovers back into some manageable semblance of friendship after everything that had transpired between their two families. Of course nothing has been proven quite yet but even just the suspicion of it had been enough to cause a strain. Not that Archie really blames Veronica for anything her father might have done. But Betty imagines that in either one of their shoes it might be difficult nevertheless to look at each other in the eyes and really sit comfortably with that knowledge -- at least right now when things are so fresh, relatively speaking. (It's been months since the actual incident but Betty knows that Archie still wakes up in the middle of the night screaming bloody murder).
It somehow doesn't surprise her that Veronica is approaching this in her usual, even-keeled way. Betty's normally the one to always be thinking several steps ahead -- a practical necessity when you grow up with a mom like Alice Cooper who watches your every move like a hawk -- so she can appreciate the honest if unneeded warning. ]
I know. [ Betty shakes her head slightly. ] V... You could never be 'just a game' to me. [ She says sincerely, her pupils blown wide in the low light. No matter what else, at least that much is clear to her. ]
It somehow doesn't surprise her that Veronica is approaching this in her usual, even-keeled way. Betty's normally the one to always be thinking several steps ahead -- a practical necessity when you grow up with a mom like Alice Cooper who watches your every move like a hawk -- so she can appreciate the honest if unneeded warning. ]
I know. [ Betty shakes her head slightly. ] V... You could never be 'just a game' to me. [ She says sincerely, her pupils blown wide in the low light. No matter what else, at least that much is clear to her. ]
[ The relief of being home is a little overwhelming. Archie thinks about how easy it would have been to have gotten stuck in Chicago and never come back. But he's here, in his room, in his bed, with Veronica and her book and his dad on his feet, and Archie thinks he can give himself at least a night to savor all of it. Tomorrow he'd have to start tracking down the person who hurt his dad. It had waited all summer, and it couldn't wait that much longer.
Sleep isn't really on the table. At best he dozes, never quite dropping off to sleep. He's hyperaware of their bodies side by side on his wash-worn coverlet. When she turns into him, it's with her book to block him off from her. It's just as well. Archie's hands seem to have forgotten he's not supposed to automatically reach for her. He drops his hand back to the blanket to trace a seam restlessly as she touches him, smiling crinkling under the trip of her fingers. ]
I really missed you, Ronnie.
[ It would probably be a lie to say he'd like to have told her every day. His time had been eaten up and his focus scattered. And it was probably better he hadn't been texting her constantly. She deserved a summer without the kind of distraction Archie knew he could be. He hopes she managed to have a good one, even if he hadn't been a part of it. ]
Hi.
[ A little nervously, like Archie's just realized he's stranded in some strange space where they're a little more than friends but not quite tipped back into territory where he could kiss her. He wants to kiss her badly, but that's not a particularly new impulse. He ignores it in favor of knocking his knuckles against her book, taking in her face like he's looking for any hint of a change in her. ]
Sleep isn't really on the table. At best he dozes, never quite dropping off to sleep. He's hyperaware of their bodies side by side on his wash-worn coverlet. When she turns into him, it's with her book to block him off from her. It's just as well. Archie's hands seem to have forgotten he's not supposed to automatically reach for her. He drops his hand back to the blanket to trace a seam restlessly as she touches him, smiling crinkling under the trip of her fingers. ]
I really missed you, Ronnie.
[ It would probably be a lie to say he'd like to have told her every day. His time had been eaten up and his focus scattered. And it was probably better he hadn't been texting her constantly. She deserved a summer without the kind of distraction Archie knew he could be. He hopes she managed to have a good one, even if he hadn't been a part of it. ]
Hi.
[ A little nervously, like Archie's just realized he's stranded in some strange space where they're a little more than friends but not quite tipped back into territory where he could kiss her. He wants to kiss her badly, but that's not a particularly new impulse. He ignores it in favor of knocking his knuckles against her book, taking in her face like he's looking for any hint of a change in her. ]
Good. [A beat, and then an added statement of sincerity:] I don't think I could handle that. After everything ... [Veronica's voice trails off. That's another way that she and Betty are different. Part of Veronica's grace in the world comes with a strange comfort of being willing to speak her mind, and speak how she feels. She knows that it's never as easy for Betty. While Veronica wears everything externally, Betty has learned to conceal it all, to keep it all inside. It's necessary to survive her family. And it's necessary to survive this town.
Her hand moves up, fingers drifting over Betty's cheek. She breathes out, eyes searching Betty's for a moment longer.]
Perhaps we should've known that it'd always come back to us. [Her eyebrows raise with a hint of mischief. At the end of the day, Veronica isn't about to face something like this without diving in headfirst. Besides, she sees no point in not enjoying this, and enjoying her time with Betty Cooper. She cares deeply for her friend, possibly more than anyone else in this town (sans Archie and her mom—though obviously the latter is a whole different thing altogether than ... this).]
So, shall we?
Her hand moves up, fingers drifting over Betty's cheek. She breathes out, eyes searching Betty's for a moment longer.]
Perhaps we should've known that it'd always come back to us. [Her eyebrows raise with a hint of mischief. At the end of the day, Veronica isn't about to face something like this without diving in headfirst. Besides, she sees no point in not enjoying this, and enjoying her time with Betty Cooper. She cares deeply for her friend, possibly more than anyone else in this town (sans Archie and her mom—though obviously the latter is a whole different thing altogether than ... this).]
So, shall we?
I'd try to say something like, "That makes one of us," just to see how you'd react. But I'm here. [Veronica doesn't bother to hide the fact that she missed Archie. The barrier is there between them, but a book isn't large enough to limit their interaction. She hates that she broke up with him, or that he broke up with her, or however that went—it feels like a haze from another life. She just knows that haze is going to turn into clarity sooner rather than later. It's a mess, and one she's not quite ready to deal with at this time.
That will be for tomorrow, possibly. Or the moment she leaves the Andrews house and has to return to her dad wondering if she was with Archie, because somehow, he's the type of guy who knows everything that's going on. It's going to be a really big issue now that Archie's back.
Her hand drops from his face to his hand, fingers moving over the bumps of his knuckles.]
How was big city life? I wondered how you'd do there. Did you play any shows? [These are stalling questions, because she just wants to push him down and kiss him. Veronica just wants to pretend that she has some self control.]
That will be for tomorrow, possibly. Or the moment she leaves the Andrews house and has to return to her dad wondering if she was with Archie, because somehow, he's the type of guy who knows everything that's going on. It's going to be a really big issue now that Archie's back.
Her hand drops from his face to his hand, fingers moving over the bumps of his knuckles.]
How was big city life? I wondered how you'd do there. Did you play any shows? [These are stalling questions, because she just wants to push him down and kiss him. Veronica just wants to pretend that she has some self control.]
[ Should he have gotten into bed with her? Archie has a moment of self-doubt, but he doesn't end with him rolling away from her and potentially onto the floor. His hand turns in hers, lacing their fingers together and holding on. There's scarring on his knuckles, but it's hard to see in the dim light of his desk lamp. Everything about this moment feels like a dream. It's so good that Archie never wants to get out of bed. ]
Just a couple, only after dad was moving around better, [ Archie answers obligingly. ] It was just open mic nights at coffee shops. Nothing big.
[ And nothing Veronica should feel bad about missing, though Archie immediately second-guesses that motivation. ]
It wasn't so bad. But I'm glad I'm back. [ More than he could ever articulate. ] Are you okay?
[ There's plenty to ask about: Veronica's family, Jughead, Betty and her sister. The questions are already piling up, and Archie sighs past them, squeezing Veronica's hand. ]
Just a couple, only after dad was moving around better, [ Archie answers obligingly. ] It was just open mic nights at coffee shops. Nothing big.
[ And nothing Veronica should feel bad about missing, though Archie immediately second-guesses that motivation. ]
It wasn't so bad. But I'm glad I'm back. [ More than he could ever articulate. ] Are you okay?
[ There's plenty to ask about: Veronica's family, Jughead, Betty and her sister. The questions are already piling up, and Archie sighs past them, squeezing Veronica's hand. ]
Oh, yeah—summer was nice. Busy. [That's a short answer, one that doesn't even begin to cover any of the bases that she knows needs to be covered between the two of them. Not covering those bases seems like a bad idea, all in all.] I wanted to keep out of the house to avoid Daddy. [That might go without saying, and she knows better than anyone that introducing him into the conversation is like bringing up the wedge that no one wants to acknowledge.] Thankfully, I succeeded.
[Which is undoubtedly much to her father's chagrin. Another problem, another day. Or in another few hours. It'll be that, probably.]
Most of it isn't worth talking about, but I would suggest checking in with Jughead as soon as you can. Even though it was 95 out with too much humidity, he looked way too comfortable in that Serpents jacket.
[Which is undoubtedly much to her father's chagrin. Another problem, another day. Or in another few hours. It'll be that, probably.]
Most of it isn't worth talking about, but I would suggest checking in with Jughead as soon as you can. Even though it was 95 out with too much humidity, he looked way too comfortable in that Serpents jacket.
[ 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. ]
Are you going to stay?
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?
[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.
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.
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.]
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. ]
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.]
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. ]
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.]
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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