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I've been recording all my ideas to save for later, since it's hard to type anything when your keys are slick with blood.'Īrchie cringes at the visual, but he supposes it's his fault for asking in the first place. 'Hey, how have you been able to write like this?' Archie has a feeling he knows who his demon is, but until he absolutely has to bring it up, he'd rather not broach the topic.

Jughead's expression falls, but he doesn't push the conversation further. 'Thank, Jug, but Percival really hasn't come after me yet.' He purses his lips and takes another deep breath. It's hanging on for dear life, claws buried in the soft flesh behind Archie's parted lips, digging deeper and deeper in a desperate attempt to avoid being seen. The confession is hanging on the tip of his tongue, a ten year long essay filled with discussions of abuse and manipulation and grooming, but he just can't let it out. 'I know we aren't as close as we used to be, but I'm always willing to listen if you want me to.'Īrchie opens his mouth, closing it once he realizes no sound has come out. 'You don't have to tell me.' Jughead says. 'But what about you, Batman? You might've said that Percival hasn't gotten to you yet, but you and I both know that isn't true.'Īrchie freezes, feeling his spine stiffen as his eyes jump to meet Jughead's. He pauses before continuing, tightening his grip on Archie's hand as he does. 'I'm not laughing at you, I promise, it's just. It's quiet at first, small and for the most part controlled, but it doesn't take long for it to grow into something louder and more spontaneous, Jughead's eyes closing as he lets his head fall back into the motion of it. I'm not gonna let him get away with this.' 'He's been hurting Betty too, and who knows what he's gonna do to Ronnie, but he can't keep getting away with this. 'I'm gonna make him pay for doing this to you, Jug.' he says, vitriol creeping up into his tone. It's a familiar shade, bright and bold and unapologetic, the kind of color he'd make into a lipstick tube and give to Cheryl.

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The red of Jughead's blood looks jarring against both of their pale skin tones, but in a way it's also beautiful.

Instead he lets his eyes drifts towards their laps, his gaze settling on their conjoined fingers. It's more of a soreness than anything else.' He curls his fingers around Archie's, joining their hands more firmly together.Īrchie's first instinct is to give his hand a gentle squeeze, but he stops himself before he can, still scared of hurting Jughead. I'm sure you can guess how bad watching your own fingernails fall off is, but I don't really feel it anymore. The contact is tentative, his palm barely brushing against Jughead's, but he can feel the heat of his skin seeping into the space between them, making his own fingertips burn with the sensation. 'I promise I won't break.'Īrchie nods slowly, reaching forward and taking Jughead's hand in his own.