Work Text:
It's not that Betty is afraid of heights.
Really. She's not. When she was a kid, she spent countless hours scaling towering trees with Archie. Once she reached the top, she'd stand on branches no thicker than her arm and take in the view, look at Riverdale sprawling out below her.
But, while there's no denying that the view currently spreading out below her puts Riverdale to shame, there's a huge difference between being forty feet in the air and being forty stories (and counting) with nothing but glass beneath your shoes.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Veronica asks, arms crossed on the brass railing curving around the inside of the elevator, looking completely and utterly nonplussed.
"It is," Betty says weakly, keeping her eyes trained on a towering office building in the distance that is rapidly shrinking below them as the elevator continues to ascend. Veronica immediately turns around, eyes wide with concern.
"Are you afraid of heights?"
"I didn't think I was," Betty replies, and even as she tells herself not to look down, her eyes drop to the glass floor and, beyond that, to the ground, so horribly far below, and her stomach plummets.
Veronica's heels step into her line of sight, and she tips Betty's chin up, until Betty is forced to look into her dark eyes.
"Eyes on me," she says firmly. "All the way to the top. Okay?"
Betty nods and leans in until her forehead is braced against Veronica's.
"Okay. I can do that."