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The air smelled like fruity perfume and expensive champagne. Jewels were dripping from the women’s necks as the men adorned overpriced watches and kept the keys to their sports cars hidden safely inside their pockets. The lights gave everything a soft glow that made it feel like they were stuck inside a fairytale as people drifted past them in gowns and tuxedos of every shape and colour. Heels clicked across the marble floor, matching the beat of new dress shoes that had yet to be broken in. Laughter as warm as an ice bath filled the air, bubbling up over the soft swell of the classical music coming from the small orchestra in the darkest corner.
The red fabric of her gown hung heavily from her hips, stopping just above the floor and giving the impression that she was floating around the room. Small beads covered the fabric, swirling and twisting into an intricate pattern that made it seem as if she was sparkling, shining under the soft lighting as all eyes were drawn to her.
She held her head high, grateful for the champagne flute being offered to her by someone she’d never seen before and would probably never meet again. She plastered a small smile on her face; the one that curled up the corners of her lips but didn’t seem to get rid of the cold stare that was permanently fixed on her once-bright green eyes. She scanned the room, looking for anyone she might be able to have a conversation with but came up short. She settled for a tall red-headed woman that was standing in the corner, finding her cool stare and sharp expression intriguing.
“Hello. I’m Be-”
“Betty Cooper. I know,” the woman stated abruptly, interrupting Betty before she’d even started. “Cheryl Blossom.” Her tone was as icy as her stare and Betty wondered momentarily if she’d made the right decision, spotting a small Latina woman on the other side of the room that might make for better company.
The familiar clicking of cameras started growing louder, a constant buzz that seemed to take over most of Betty’s life and all of her nightmares. She tilted her chin up slightly, double-checking that her smile was on in all the right places before summoning the required amount of strength to carry on her conversation with Cheryl.
“I’ve heard that name before. You’re a director, you did Sweetwater River last year?” Betty inquired politely, taking a large sip of her champagne and hoping the alcohol would kick in sooner rather than later and help make the evening slightly less suffocating.
“Yes that’s right. And here comes the leading man right now. Betty Cooper, allow me to introduce you to Jughead Jones.” Betty turned around and saw none other than the infamous Jughead Jones sauntering towards the duo, a constricted grin clouding his expression. Betty had to remember to keep her own expression under check.
Don’t smile too big Betty. Don’t let them know.
“Betty Cooper, an honour to meet you.” No one else saw the glint in his eye he always reserved just for her. Or the way his fingers grazed just over the pulse in her wrist, knowing what was hiding under the foundation she had layered on over the golden ink.
Their little secret.
“Same to you Jughead. I’ve heard great things and I’m a big fan of your work.” She had to remind herself to keep her smile in that same plastic look she’d had to master years ago but even she could tell that the truth was starting to shine through, her cheeks glowing and not just from her makeup and jewelry. Suddenly, she didn’t need the alcohol to feel that buzz because he was somehow able to do it all on his own.
Cheryl was completely oblivious to the ongoing conversation happening between the lines of their introduction, unaware of the thoughts racing through Betty’s mind.
They were 16; the bestest of friends that the world always seemed to try and pull apart. Until that one night when it threw them together.
Betty’s covers were pulled up over her head, the sound of her sobs muffled by the heavy fabric as her teartracks turned black with the mascara she had forgotten to take off. Even a knock on her bedroom window did nothing to deter her, pulling the blanket tighter around her as she tried to hide from the one person she knew could make it all better.
She didn’t want to feel better; she wanted to stay broken and bruised, unworthy of him and all of the goodness he had brought into her life. He was always there, always waiting in the corner to sweep her off her feet and make everything seem brighter.
He was there when she was five and fell over playing tag with some kids at school, the first person to run to the teacher and get a first aid kit. He’d kissed the plaster once it was safely covering her bloody skin, claiming that was what really made it better because he’d seen his mum do it to his little sister. His buzzcut and her sun-bleached hair led everyone to think of them as an unlikely pair. Oh how wrong people could be.
He was there when the school bullies called her names and made fun of how smart she was, yelling and cursing at them until they apologised and gave her back her lunch and picked up her school books which they’d strewn across the hallway. He’d even brought her a new school bag since they’d ripped the strap off hers after school one day.
He was there to ask her to the school dance when no one else did. There to help her pick out her dress and do her hair since she didn’t have many girl friends and her sister had already left her. There to pick her up and drop her off and there every second in between.
He was always there. So of course he would be there now.
She heard him come in through the window but made no effort to get up. She felt the covers lift up on one side as he slipped in behind her, his shoes and jacket already scattered across her cream carpet. His arm slipped over her waist as he shuffled in closer to her.
“It’s okay Betts. I promise everything will turn out exactly how it’s supposed to.” He’d whispered into her shoulder, the words getting trapped in the fabric of her sleepshirt, coming out every night after that when she put it on. She rolled over slowly, hiding her face into his chest as she continued sobbing, his hand moving in continuous circles over and over again.
Once the sobbing had ceased and the tears were no longer running down her cheeks in streams of black, he lifted her off the mattress, carrying her towards her bathroom and carefully sitting her on the counter. After wetting a flannel with warm water he gently wiped at her face, ridding it of the black marks that were already starting to dry up.
When he was finished he looked up at her, intending to carry her back to bed so she could sleep but finding her watching him instead, an unfamiliar expression on her face.
“What’s the matter, Be-” Her lips crashed onto his, stealing his breath away and capturing the end of his sentence. Her fingers found their way into his hair and started running through the ink black strands while his hands settled on her hips, pulling her closer as she wrapped her legs around his waist. The space between them was nonexistent, lips pushing and pulling to get more, taste more, feel more.
“Betty. Betts stop. I don’t know if this is the best idea at the moment,” he mumbled breathlessly as his lips moved against hers, unable to pull himself any further away. She shook her head and leant half an inch forward, effectively bringing their lips back together.
“I need you Jug.” Had he been any further away he wouldn’t have heard her, her words coming out so quietly it was almost masked by the sound of water dripping from the tap he hadn’t fully turned off. “And not like a best friend.”
He didn’t need anymore convincing as he lifted her from the counter, stumbling with her towards her bedroom before laying her gently on the bed. His lips stayed on hers, refusing to stray any further while she was in such a state but impotent to be entirely chivalrous and remove them altogether. He lay down on her spare pillow and urged her to do the same, peppering gentle kisses across her face as he lulled her to sleep with whispered promises and secret truths.
“Anyway, if you two will excuse me, I need to go and talk to Mr. Keller over there about some upcoming projects. A pleasure to meet you, Betty, and I hope you both have a wonderful evening.” She waltzed away with a flick of her cherry red hair and disappeared into the glitz and glamour of the crowd, leaving Betty and Jughead to cling to the outskirts and play their parts.
Only, one of them couldn’t.
It was too hard, being that close to him and not being able wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless. Or whisper in his ear as her fingers carded through his unruly locks. Or fiddle with the second button of the dress shirt he was wearing, the one she’d helped pick out that morning.
“Betts, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath. I’m right here. Nothing bad is going to happen.” His voice was all she needed to calm the nerves that were building up in her stomach but not quite enough to stop the shaking in her hands. She drained the last of her champagne after ensuring that no one was looking and then gave the empty flute to a nearby waiter, hoping the shaking would now be slightly less obvious.
“You look stunning tonight babe,” Jughead whispered softly as his fingers brushed over her wrist again, a move he knew always soothed the anxious thoughts that liked to flutter around her mind at events like these where the people were plastic and shallow while they glittered like the diamonds draped over every inch of their skin.
“I may have been thinking about you when they gave me this dress,” Betty mumbled in a low tone to avoid being overheard. Their relationship was something just for them, the only part of their lives they had managed to keep out of the media and they wanted it to stay that way for as long as it could. They cherished the sacred moments they shared together within the four walls of their lavish apartment, the moments that no one else would ever find out about.
“And what exactly were you thinking.” They’d talked about going public before but had quickly decided against it, figuring it would all come out in the wash if it needed to, otherwise they were quite content just to keep it between the two of them.
Their little secret.
“I only got this dress so you could take it off.” Her words were low and sultry, turning Jughead’s blue eyes black as he thought about undoing the delicate zip that ran down the length of her back, his lips on hers, limbs tangled on top of crumpled sheets, fingers carding through silky hair as the air filled with the sound of soft moans, his teeth grazing just over her pulse point in that way that made her stomach flutter and her nails scra-
“Jug, if you keep looking at me like that we’re going to have a lot more to worry about than how soon we can get out of this ballroom.” Her words were said in jest but he could hear the seriousness in her tone, forcing him to snap out of his tempting daydreams.
“If you say so, love. We should probably go and mingle but I’ll get the car to pick you up out front in an hour. See you then.” His fingers brushed her wrist for a final time as he walked past her without so much as a backward glance. Her right hand subconsciously fingered her left wrist as she scanned the crowd for someone new to endure, her thoughts far away from the party and all the way back at the time she’d gotten the mark on her wrist.
It was all her idea, no matter how much he insisted he had something to do with it.
They were 10 and left home alone at her place, a movie playing in the background as they lay sprawled across her bed. The summer sun was beating in through the windows and turning the spacious room into a human furnace. They were lying around in their underwear, finding no problem with it as their parents weren’t around to tell them otherwise. They were both doodling on spare pieces of paper, trying to come up with an emblem for their tree house. Jughead had given up half an hour ago and was instead drawing a cartoon crown over and over again, filling up page after page.
She declared that would be their emblem since she couldn’t come up with anything better, and then etched it into the back of her bedframe so they could always be together, even when she was asleep.
He climbed into her room under the cover of darkness three years later and since then, they hadn’t spent a single night apart. She’d etched another crown into the new bedframe they bought when they moved in together. Only this time, it was right in the center instead of hidden against the wall so her mother wouldn’t find it.
It was just before his 18th birthday and she still hadn’t gotten him a present, completely at a loss for ideas. The ‘I love you’s’ they whispered to each other were a constant present, one they gave and received at every chance they got. But despite what he insisted, somehow it wasn’t enough.
She was walking home from her summer job when an idea came to her in the shape of a grimy looking tattoo parlour tucked between a hairdresser and a pharmacy. She walked in and explained to the artist what she wanted, managing to find a photo of the design on her phone. Half an hour later, she walked the rest of the way home with a genuine smile on her face, unable to hide her excitement for when he found out. A few days later she gave him his present.
A tiny golden crown tattooed over the pulse on her left wrist.
She told him it was so she could wear her heart on her sleeve.
He told her she could have his heart as well since it had always been hers.
She couldn’t think of a better way to say so she repeated his words back to him as her lips ghosted against his, finished her sentence as she brought her lips slowly down his neck and tugged his shirt over his head, showing her she loved him the best way she knew how.
The next hour was excruciating, both of them exchanging knowing glances across the crowded room that only left her wanting him more, needing him more. Betty joined in some of the dull conversations that she happened to walk in to. What they were about, she couldn’t tell you; the only thought in her mind was Jughead in his many wondrous forms. She somehow managed to smile and nod at all the right times, allowing herself a mechanical laugh every now and then when the situation called for it.
Betty managed to excuse herself an hour later, making her way towards the front door and walking through it as the doorman held it open for her with a genuine smile, the second one she’d seen all night. Sure enough, their car was waiting for her at the end of the red carpet, a sea of flashing lights and aggressive paparazzi the only thing between her and the man that took up the majority of her waking thoughts.
Pasting on her most plastic smile for the final time that night, Betty made her way through the sea of noise, the person waiting for her at the end being the only thing keeping her sane. She smiled and twirled at all the right moments, poised in the way that takes years to master. She let out a sigh of relief as soon as the car door closed behind her, effectively cutting out the noise and distraction of the evening. She allowed herself to sink into him, his arms wrapping around her waist as he placed a loving kiss on her forehead.
The driver sped through the traffic, taking unknown shortcuts and arriving at their front door twenty minutes later. They thanked him kindly before making their way into the elevator, Jughead’s hands wandering up and down her back as she fiddled with his second button, finally undoing it in the way she’d been wanting to all evening.
A pinging noise alerted them they were at their floor and they took their time sauntering through the apartment before ending up in their bedroom. Betty was struggling with her zip and wordlessly turned to Jughead for his help. He gratefully assisted and pulled it down slowly, carefully, placing delicate kisses along her spine as the fabric fell away. She stepped out of it gracefully and kicked off her heels, slipping one of his old t-shirts over her head and then flopping down onto the bed and started to dismantle her intricate hairdo, pulling an infinite amount of pins from her golden locks.
Jughead chuckled at the sight as he changed out of his suit, putting on a clean pair of boxers and a white singlet before flopping down beside her and helping her with her hair. It always surprised him how different the two aspects of their lives were. First they had this part, some would argue that it was the ‘true’ part. The part of their lives that hadn’t changed a whole lot since that first kiss on a rainy night when they were 16. Sure, the apartment got bigger and the sheets were softer but they were still them, the couple that had been hopelessly in love with one another since they met when they were five years old, even if they didn’t really understand what the word meant.
But then they had the other part, the part that came later, the part that everyone else thought they knew all about, the part that was spread across every trashy magazine in the city. The part where they were just two actors who had met for the first time at a fancy gala, an insignificant meeting that lasted less than two minutes. The part where she was Betty Cooper and he was Jughead Jones and those names meant nothing together and everything apart.
But as they lay on the bed bigger than the two of the had ever needed, a sea of bobby pins threatening to drown them as they were pulled out of Betty’s hair and thrown haphazardly onto the cotton sheets, they were Betts and Jug, two people so hopelessly in love with one another they would rather be wrapped in each other’s arms than wrapped around the front cover of some glossy paper.
“Jug,” Betty mumbled as he ran his fingers through her hair in search of more of the dreaded pins. “Can we have a bath?” Her voice was quiet and gravelly, no doubt a result of the evening they’d just endured. It was always more exhausting for her. Even just an evening of having to slip back into the person her mother had forced her to be was taxing in every way and Jughead always made sure he was there to help her through it. It didn’t matter if he was there in person or just in the tattoo on her wrist but he was always there for her.
He was always there.
He kissed her forehead again when he was satisfied they’d taken all of the pins out and made his way to the bathroom, starting up the tap before fetching a bottle of wine and two glasses and placing them beside the tub.
Jughead called out for her when it was ready, pouring in some of the lavender bath stuff she loved so much and lighting the few candles she always kept lying around. Betty trudged into the bathroom and stripped off her clothes, letting them fall into a heap on the ground as she slipped under the bubbly water, leaving room for him to follow her lead.
He sat down behind her and pulled her back to lean against his chest. His lips followed the line of her neck, moving slowly down her shoulder and then across her back. She shivered slightly when he reached her spine. He could feel the tension falling out of her muscles and she leaned back against him, her head resting on his shoulder.
“Not at the moment babe,” Betty muttered into the quiet room as she felt his hands moving further and further below her waist. Jughead placed a final kiss on her shoulder before moving his hands back up to rest on her ribs. He moved his fingers slightly and elicited a surprised squeal from the woman in his grasp.
“Juggie!” His fingers moved faster and soon she was doubled over in laughter, water sloshing out of the tub as she begged him to stop, her tone not in the least bit convincing. He eventually conceded and let her go, cradling her in his arms as the last of her laugh escaped her body.
Jughead’s fingers reached out and grabbed her left wrist, bringing it up to his lips as he pressed his lips against the gold ink. The makeup had washed away in the soapy water, revealing the tattoo in its full glory as it sparkled in the bathrooms fluorescent light.
He kissed it once more before letting it fall back into the water. It was so quiet with just the two of them, and Jughead honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better. He could tell that the events of the evening were catching up to her, her blinks becoming lethargic and everything about her starting to seem small and frail.
“You ready for bed, love?” Jughead whispered in her ear, not wanting to wake her up any more than necessary. She nodded slightly and he scooped her up into his arms, carefully standing up in the slippery water and sitting her down on the edge of the tub, wrapping a fluffy towel around her as he let her dry off. He did the same for himself and tied his towel around his waist, lifting Betty up once more and walking her into their bedroom.
They slipped under the covers in the same way they had every night for the last ten years; Betty hopping in first and then Jughead sliding in behind her, wrapping himself around her and kissing whatever bare skin he had access to. She would always fall asleep first, her breathing evening out and a calm expression befalling her face as his fingers ran through her hair and occasionally picking out bobby pins if they missed any (which they almost always did).
Then his lips would begin to move in a different way. Not in the kisses he showered her with or the snarky comments he seemed to have an abundance of. Now they moved in the way of whispered promises and secret truths, similar to the ones he had uttered a million times over their years together, in every sense of the word.
The whispers contained promises she would never hear but he would never break; a life by her side, a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, a jacket to keep her warm, or a loving gaze when the cameras started flashing and physical comfort wasn’t enough. He promised to protect her and keep her safe, to brush his fingers along her wrist when it all got too much and to let his lips provide the sanctity she sought out. But every night without fail, he promised that they would always be Betts and Jug, to not let the other part of their life seep into the real part and ruin a good thing, the best thing.
Because above everything, his Betty was inescapable, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.