Archive of Our Own

you deserve a lover who wants you disheveled.

with everything

and all the reasons that wake you up in a haste

and the demons that won’t let you sleep.

you deserve a lover who makes you feel safe.

who can consume this world whole

if he walks hand in hand with you.

someone who believes that his embraces

are a perfect match with your skin.

who supports you when you feel shame

and flies with you.

who isn’t afraid to fall.

you deserve a lover who takes away the lies

and brings you hope, coffee and poetry.

Frida Kahlo

it’s you

it’s always you

It’s love at first sight.

The day she meets Jughead Jones and Archie Andrews at Pop’s, something wells up in her chest that she’s never felt before. All her life she’s dreamed of this moment, the day she’ll meet her soulmate, the one whose name has been etched beneath her pink sleeve for years.

Archie Andrews , clear as day, and she feels it as she looks at them laughing together in the booth across from her. That warm feeling blooming like a rose in her heart, spreading through her arms and legs and neck until it reaches her eyes and she can’t see anything but the one she knows she’s destined to love.

The problem is, the one she falls in love with isn’t her soulmate.

if I’m ever gonna fall in love

I know it’s gon be you

Archie is wonderful.

He really is, she means it. He’s handsome and kind and selfless, and when they’re introduced, he’s really quite the gentleman about it.

“Been waiting a long time to meet you, Betty Cooper,” he says, the sentiment sincere and heartfelt, and Betty tries to ignore how his best friend snorts beside him. Archie gives her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about him. He doesn’t believe in soulmates. Thinks they’re, and I quote, ‘bullshit the universe created to manipulate us into thinking we need other people to live fulfilling lives’.”

Betty giggles, smiling when the best friend sends a pleased smirk her way. She feels her cheeks darken, meeting his bright blue eyes, and then back up at Archie, who just grins at her, apparently oblivious to the spark between his soulmate and best friend.

“Betty,” Archie says, a hand hovering over her shoulder and his other resting on the best friend’s, “meet Jughead Jones.”

Yes, she thinks, shaking his hand, this is when things start to go horribly wrong.

it’s you

it’s always you

Archie doesn’t seem to expect anything of her, which is good. She’s not sure what she’d do if he did, because as she laughs at a joke he’s made, her foot brushes against Jughead’s under the table and the hair on the back of her neck stands up.

This is really very bad.

Archie still doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Betty feels guilty, sitting here across from her soulmate and the person she wishes was her soulmate, because Archie’s been waiting to meet her for years, probably, and here she is falling for his best friend.

She’s never heard of something like this before. Soulmates meet, they fall in love, and they live happily ever after. That’s how it’s always been, how she’s been told it always will be. Then again, her knowledge of soulmates come from Disney movies, the ones where the princess’ name is written in perfect cursive on the prince’s arm from the beginning. There’s no complications, no other possibilities, just her and him living out forever together, and happily.

She has two choices here, she realizes. Break Archie’s heart and choose Jughead, or break her own and choose Archie.

So really, there’s only one thing to do.

met a lot of people

but nobody feels like you

“Jughead?” Betty asks, quickening her steps to keep up with him. Archie had offered them both a ride home, but Jughead had declined and Betty had wanted to have more time with him, as much as she could, so she, too, gently refused.

Jughead looks over at her, face carefully blank, and she offers a curious smile. An olive branch, if you will.

“Yeah?” He says, and she smiles. She likes watching the way his lips move around his words.

“Have you ever fallen in love?” She keeps her voice soft, quiet, not wanting to scare him off. “Like, instantaneously, almost as if you couldn’t feel anything else when you looked at them?”

Jughead sends her a look. It’s somehow judgemental and sad and understanding all at the same time, and she wonders why.

“Do you mean soulmates?” he asks slowly, tone hesitant and cautious, and she shakes her head, eyes wide as she takes in his words, drunk on his voice.

“No, no, I,” she stops, licks her lips. “It doesn’t matter, I just… have you ever fallen in love?”

He considers her words, for a moment and then two, and shrugs, turning his head forward with a practiced nonchalance.

“Once. Not that it’s any of your business.”

She ignores the sinking feeling in her chest and grasps at his wrist.

He stops, his eyes watching her wearily and his stance defensive, walls up. She wants to tear them down, one by one, as many as she can.

She takes a deep breath, trying to quiet the thumping of her heart as if that’s something he can hear, and chances one last question.

“Could you ever… I don’t know, do it again? Let yourself fall?”

He smirks, pulling his wrist from her fingers and walking away.

“Never let myself in the first place, Betty, but falling’s a possibility.”

She smiles, wide and hopeful, and jogs in her heels to catch up with him, grinning when he laughs and loops his arm around her shoulders.

so please don’t break my heart

don’t tear me apart

Hanging out with Archie and Jughead is easy. Like breathing, it’s something she doesn’t have to learn how to do. It just happens, day after day, and they’re a trio as easily as they were a duo before.

Archie still hasn’t asked her out. Maybe she’s being impatient and nervous, since she’s practiced her rejection in the bathroom mirror every day before school since they’ve met. But it’s been three weeks, and Archie hasn’t so much as breathed the word love in her presence.

Jughead, however, sneaks glances her way and smiles every time she laughs at one of his sarcastic comments. His eyes are bright, curious, whenever they meet hers and she grows used to being the hidden center of his attention, the only person he thinks to look at and yet also the only person he’s not allowed to look at simultaneously.

Archie remains charmingly oblivious to this. Betty notices the ever-so-subtle nervous eyes Jughead sends his best friend’s way, but Archie doesn’t even flinch when Betty presses closer to Jughead on the couch. And Jughead’s eyes trace her freckles, flicking down to her lips every now and then, and she knows he wants to kiss her even though he never presses back.

Even though his best friend is her soulmate and he’s sitting right there .

I know how it starts

“You want to kiss me.”

She says it when they’re walking home from Pop’s one night and she can’t see his face clearly because there are barely any street lights this way.

Jughead doesn’t answer, hands stuffed in his pockets, and she wants to push the matter harder, wants to say it again and again until his anger gets the better of him and he just does it.

“You want to kiss me.”

“No, I don’t.”

His answer is quick and sharp this time, eyes cutting as they flash her way, and she swallows and forces down her fear.

“Yes, you do,” she challenges. “You want to kiss me.”

Jughead shakes his head, picking up his pace. She quickens her steps too, because she won’t let him run away from this. She knows soulmates are the be all, end all but she’s in love with her soulmate’s best friend and she’s pretty sure at this point that it isn’t going away.

“You want to kiss me,” she says again, and his jaw tightens.

“Don’t tell me what I want, Betty,” he bites out, and she shakes her head, smiling and hooking her arm through his.

“You want to kiss me,” she exclaims happily, and Jughead sighs, slowing down and shaking her arm from his.

“You’re my best friend’s soulmate, Betty,” he says. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing his arm again and pulling them both to a stop. He doesn’t look her in the eyes, keeping his stubbornly on the ground, and she smiles at the slight tick at the corner of his lips, jumping up and down as they try to smile and he tries to stop them.

“You want to kiss me,” she whispers, in disbelief and with overwhelming hopefulness as he raises his eyes from the pavement. “You want to kiss me.”

He smiles at her eagerness, reaching up to brush a stray hair behind her ear.

“Yes, Betty, I want to kiss you. Happy?”

She smiles back, shaking her head and touching her hand to his wrist.

“Kiss me,” she murmurs, and his eyes flick down to her lips and he leans in.

Then pulls away altogether, his warmth ripped from her skin and leaving her in the cold.

“No,” he says, an uncaring smirk playing about his lips even as she sees his eyes glisten. “Let’s go home.”

trust me

I’ve been broken before

Knowing Jughead likes her back is torture. She wants to hold his hand, to reach out for him, to kiss him, but he won’t let her.

Archie hasn’t asked me out, she wants to scream whenever they’re alone. I’m not his to be stolen from. The name on my arm means nothing if I can have you.

But then maybe she can’t, because Jughead won’t look at her when they’re alone, when Archie’s gone off to practice or to the bathroom, and he doesn’t walk home with her anymore. She’s taken to getting home late, waiting for him outside of the school for an hour afterwards, just in case he decides to show.

He never does, but she waits anyway.

don’t break me again

I am delicate

It’s raining the day she finally catches him. Three months since they’ve met and she can’t find it in herself to speak, running after him in her brown-but-used-to-be-white sneakers and grabbing his arm, waiting until he whips around in surprise to wrap her arms around his middle, burying her face in his chest.

Jughead doesn’t hug her back, trying to get away, but she can tell his struggle is half-hearted.

“Just hug me back,” she says, voice muffled against his shirt, and his stiff arms curve around her, his body rigid against hers.

“Stop running away from this,” she says, pulling away. Her voice breaks as she tangles her fingers with his, and he sighs, seeming to sag beneath some invisible burden.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” she pushes, stepping closer, and he smiles sadly at her, eyes flicking down to their intertwined fingers.

“Archie’s been waiting for you since your name showed up on his wrist,” Jughead whispers, playing with her thumb with his pointer finger. “He’s had a shitty experience with love all his life, and he couldn’t wait to meet you. His soulmate, who he could count on to love him through anything.”

God, Betty hates herself.

“I can’t take that away from him. I won’t. ”

Jughead looks up at her and smiles sadly.

“So if that means that I have to let him have you, then I will.”

Betty’s taken aback, surprised, by his selflessness, his willingness to just hand over what could be everything to his best friend.

“You’d really do that?” She rasps, breathless and shivering in the rain. His smile seems to sadden even more, if she’s not fooling herself, and he pulls his hand away from hers.

“For Archie?” He whispers. “Anything.”

It feels like the truth. It feels like a promise.

And I’m going to break it, aren’t I?

please don’t break my heart

Betty corners Archie after football pratice in the parking lot on Thursday. She can’t take being around Jughead but not being with him anymore, and being with him means confessing to her soulmate that she doesn’t love him the way she’s supposed to.

So here she is.

“Hey, Betty,” Archie says, a sunny smile lighting up his face, and she feels her stomach sink. “What’s up?”

She takes a deep breath and says, “Look. Archie.”

He nods, smiling encouragingly, and she grimaces. She reaches out for his hands and he lets her take them, sending her a confused look.

“You okay?” He asks, and she laughs in exasperation.

“God, Arch, yes, I just -” She licks her lips and huffs, laughing again as she glances at the ground. “This is so hard. Sorry.”

He shakes his head, squeezing her hands.

“Not a problem, Betts. What’s going on?”

She looks back up at him and smiles guiltily.

“I can’t date you. I know you haven’t asked, but we’re soulmates, and that’s what expected but I’m not in love with you and I’m, I just, I’m so sorry -”

Her words come faster and faster until she heaves for air, gasping in between words that she slurs together, and Archie just laughs, cutting her off with another squeeze of her hands and a grin.

“It’s fine, Betty,” he says, shaking his head in laughter. “I’m not in love with you either.”

She beams, the butterflies coming back alive in her stomach as she laughs happily, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

“This is amazing,” she sighs, feeling his arms close around her as he returns the hug. “God, I was so worried.”

He laughs into her hair, whispering in her ear.

“Yeah, me too.”

She grins, giving him once last squeeze before pulling away.

“Friends?” She says, holding out a hand, and he grins back, taking it.

“Friends.”

trust me

I’ve been broken before

I’ve been broken

“Are you free Saturday?”

Jughead looks at her like she’s grown three heads. Betty takes a deep breath and reaches down to tangle their fingers together with a hopeful smile.

“I’ll pick you up at eight?”

Jughead laughs, but the sound is nervous underneath all the giddiness. He pulls his hand away and starts off down the hall without her.

“C’mon, Jughead!” She says, grabbing at his hand again. He wrenches away and she sighs, exasperated, and grabs his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“I told Archie,” she says, voice softening. “He doesn’t care.”

Jughead’s eyes darken, fingers clenching in hers.

“Told Archie what?”

Betty sighs, untangling their hands so she can wrap her arms around him.

“That I don’t love him. He says he doesn’t love me either, so.”

She lifts her head to look Jughead in the eyes and sees his Adam’s apple bob. His fingers tap out a beat on her arm.

“He doesn’t care?” He finally says, hesitant, and she nods, smile coming back full force and brightening.

“No,” she says excitedly, pulling him in. “No, he doesn’t.”

When their lips are a breath away from each other, she stops, whispering, “You want to kiss me, right?”

Jughead licks his lips, voice raw with emotion when he answers.

“Yeah, I do,” and she grants his wish.

I know how it feels to be open

and then find out your love isn’t real

Jughead always wears long sleeves.

Betty doesn’t really notice this until taking his hand on the street becomes a regular thing, because his soft cotton sleeve brushes lightly against her wrist and makes it itch. She thinks about asking him why, but whenever she toys with the hems of his sleeves across the table at Pop’s he pulls back from her, cold and distant suddenly once again.

The funny thing is, he plays with his left sleeve all the time . Constantly, subtly, like a nervous habit. Like there’s something worth hiding under there, like if she finds out then this delicate thing they’ve built could crumble to pieces.

She looks down at her soulmark, Archie Andrews hidden beneath foundation on her right wrist, and wonders, wonders, wonders.

I’m still hurting

I’m hurting inside

Jughead feels absent in their kisses. It’s not that he doesn’t initiate them, because he does, with smiles and whispers and inside jokes, but it still feels like something’s missing, and Betty wonders if that something would be there in Archie’s kisses.

Then thinks better of it and grasps at Jughead’s fingers, murmuring a bad joke in his ear. He laughs, ducking his head into the crook of her neck, and she grins, brushing her nose through his hair.

“Y’all make a cute couple,” comes a voice, and Betty can tell even before she looks up that whoever it is is smirking.

Sure enough, she is, a beautiful raven-haired girl wearing pearls and shiny black heels. She sits herself down in the booth across from them, even as Jughead eyes her with an angry fervor and Betty leans back into him.

“Soulmates?” The girl asks, and Betty and Jughead trip over each other as they answer at the same time, one insecure and one defensive.

“Does it matter?”

“None of your business, Vee.”

The girl, Vee, raises an eyebrow as Betty turns her head towards Jughead, wondering where they know each other from.

“My, my,” Vee tsks, smirk widening into a devilish grin. “Testy, are we, Jones?”

Jughead glares and Betty holds his fingers just a little tighter, trying to pull his attention back to her.

“What do you want, Veronica?”

Oh. Veronica. So Vee is a nickname. They’re close enough for nicknames.

Cool, cool. Betty doesn’t mind.

“Well, an introduction, of course!” Veronica says, grinning, and Jughead looks away, down at the table with his lips set in a hard line. “C’mon, Jug, who’s this? Girlfriend?”

“Vee,” Jughead grounds out, fingers twitching at the hem of his left sleeve, and Veronica laughs, the sound melodic and sweet.

“I’m just wondering if you’re finally over -”

“God, shut up , Veronica!” Jughead bursts, standing in his explosive anger, and Betty trembles as she reaches out for his hand again and he swats her away. “Just shut up!”

Veronica raises her eyebrow again. The left one this time.

“Oh. Haven’t told her, have we?”

Jughead rolls his eyes, hands clenching into fists by his sides.

“Leave me alone, Vee. Leave us alone.”

With that, he turns and stalks out of Pop’s, and Betty hurries to gather her things into her purse, desperate to go after him.

“You’re not gonna ask?” Veronica says, a curious lilt to her voice, and Betty freezes, looking up at the gleeful girl with a carefully blank expression.

“Ask what?” She says slowly, and Veronica laughs. Betty blinks, mesmorized.

“Who he has to get over,” Veronica says, and Betty forces herself to look away and shrug, biting down on her tongue in an effort to keep the question in.

“I don’t see why I should,” she says softly, putting away the last of her things and standing from the booth. “It’s not my business.”

Veronica rolls her eyes, but says no more on the matter, instead, “Last thing. What’s your name?”

Betty pauses, halfway to the door, then takes a deep breath and turns around, offering a polite smile.

“Betty Cooper. I’ll see you around, Veronica.”

I’m so scared to fall in love

but if it’s you then I’ll try

She finds him at the drive-in, alone in the projectionist booth. He’s curled in the corner, knees to his chest and poring over spools of film with his spindly fingers.

He doesn’t move even as she steps closer, and as he comes into focus in the dark, she sees that he has his headphones on, music eminating softly from them as he rocks back and fourth, muttering under his breath.

Betty sits down beside him, opting not to try and talk to him. He probably can’t hear her anyway.

She takes his hand, threading her fingers through his, and that’s when he looks at her, as if he’s surprised to see her, and she realizes that he didn’t even notice her come in.

She keeps her eyes locked on his wide and scared ones, listening as his trembling lips spill out the same word over and over again like a prayer.

“Soulmate. Soulmate. Soulmate.”

Jughead keeps biting down on his lip, as if trying to keep the word in, but it always bursts out anyway, and finally, as the tears start to leak out and his fingers tremble around hers, she silences him with a breathless kiss.

When she pulls away, he’s quiet, eyes closed and breath fogging up in the cold, and she chances a glance down to his left wrist, daring to hook her pointer finger around the hem.

He grasps her hand, quick as lightning, and holds on tight, eyes never opening. She turns her head towards him in shock, only to find his own resting against the creaking wood wall, almost as if he’s fallen asleep.

Her eyes wide, she opens her mouth, leaning in for a question, and he whispers, hisses, “ Don’t .”

It’s harsh, a warning, him closing himself off, and she pulls her hands back from his, rubbing them up and down her arms.

She watches him for minutes that drag on like hours, waiting for him to move, but he doesn’t and she leaves, looking back every two steps until there’s nothing to look back at anymore.

it’s you

it’s always you

On Monday, Betty finds him at his locker after last period. Jughead doesn’t look at her, hand closed around his left wrist and eyes dull from sleepless nights.

“Hey,” she murmurs, testing the waters, and he gives her a wary look. But he doesn’t protest when she threads her fingers through his, though he keeps his right hand on the wrist of the hand she’s holding, careful and defensive.

She smiles guiltily and gently pulls him down the hall to the front doors, figuring she can treat him to a date at Pop’s. Maybe she can get him to open up again, to relax enough to trust her a second time. Maybe she can get him to talk to her, to tell her the name on his wrist that he’s so desperate to hide.

He knows she’d understand, right? That she’d never judge him for whoever’s name the universe branded him with, told him he had to be with, because in the end he’s chosen her and that’s all that matters.

Right?

if I’m ever gonna fall in love

I know it’s gon be you

They’ve been at Pop’s for ten minutes and he’s yet to utter a word.

Betty sighs, stirring her milkshake with the straw for what must be the fifteenth time. She chances a look across the table a Jughead, who’s staring down at his left sleeve while he picks at a thread on its hem.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” she finally says, soft and sincere, and he raises his eyes to meet hers. They’re dark and guarded, black bags beneath them.

“Yes you did,” Jughead bites out, deadpan and quiet, his voice controlled and tight. “Are you really that insecure?”

She sighs, nodding as her cheeks pinken in shame.

“Yeah. I am.”

Jughead clasps down on the edge of his left sleeve with his left fingers and presses his knuckles to his mouth, looking out the window.

“If you really need to know that badly, I’m no one’s soulmate.”

Betty’s head snaps up, eyes wide, and he gives her a sad smile.

“What?” She says. “But… but you’re…”

He laughs, but the sound is weak and wet.

“Yeah, well. I guess not.”

She reaches across the table and takes his right hand in both of hers, squeezing.

“I’m sorry.”

She means it. She really does, because he’s been through so much shit, you can tell by just looking at him, and goddamnit, he deserves a soulmate.

He smiles at her, a cynic expression laced with acceptance, but doesn’t pull away. His eyes flicker out the window again, to a redhead shadow in the distance kissing a dark-haired silhouette.

“Yeah. Me too.”

it’s you

it’s always you

“I’ve been thinking…”

Jughead closes his locker, smirking at her.

“Yeah? That’s dangerous.”

Betty giggles, threading her fingers through his as they start down the hall.

“I think we should tell Archie we’re dating.”

She shoves the words out in one breath, then holds the next one as she takes in the look on Jughead’s face, pale and terrified. He swallows, then starts moving forward in a stinted walk, seemingly distracted as his fingers loosen from hers.

“Yeah, let’s maybe, I don’t know, not ?”

She sighs.

“Why? C’mon, Jug, he’s your best friend.”

Jughead glares at her, pulling his hand away completely.

“Yeah, and he’s your soulmate. How do you think he’s gonna take this?”

He storms off ahead of her and she hangs her head for a minute, taking a deep breath before running after him.

“He’ll be happy for us, Jughead! There’s nothing more in the world he wants than to see you happy! And you know it!”

Jughead rolls his eyes, shrugging her hands away as she grasps at his sleeves, but she manages to get a good grip on him anyway and pull him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him.

“C’mon, Jughead. He’ll be fine, I promise.”

He huffs, warm breath blowing on her neck and making her shiver.

“Please?”

He sighs, finally hugging her back and nodding into her shoulder.

“Fine. I guess.”

She squeals, taking his face in her hands and pulling him into a kiss.

“Yes! Thank you!”

Jughead smiles, leaning in to kiss her again, and as she closes her eyes she hears a loud thud and the whoosh of papers in the air.

Both she and Jughead whip their heads towards the noise to see Archie, wide-eyed and red-faced. His hands are shaking as he fidgets with them, not bothering to lean down and pick up the books and folders he’s dropped.

“You guys are…” Archie swallows visibly, taking a step back. “You’re dating?”

Jughead pulls away from her and takes a step towards Archie, hand stretched out in an apology and sorry on his lips. Archie just shakes his head, bottom lip quivering, and turns back the way he came, bolting down the hall and leaving his mess where he made it.

Jughead pulls his hand back to his side, tugging at his left sleeve again, and Betty watches him sadly, looping her arm through his trembling one and laying her head on his shoulder.

She can’t get the heartbroken look on Archie’s face out of her mind, not even as Jughead kisses her and kisses her and kisses her in an effort to forget, forget it all.

Oops .

She guesses Archie’s fallen in love with her after all.

met a lot of people

but nobody feels like you

Betty collapses back on her bed as soon as she gets home, closing her eyes and trying to push the look on Archie’s face out of her mind.

They’d talked about this. He hadn’t seemed heartbroken at all when she’d confronted him about their laughably dysfunctional soulbond. And yet, there’s no denying his expression today when he saw her in Jughead’s arms - Archie is in love with her.

Betty sighs, rubbing her eyes until she sees fireworks behind her eyelids. She doesn’t love him back, so she’s not really sure what to do. She’s not sure there’s anything she can do.

She stares up at her ceiling until the flowers on it blur together, her eyes crossed without her will. She closes them, wanting nothing more than to sleep, to not have to think , when she suddenly hears music, soft through her window.

She pushes herself up and off the bed, wandering over to the window and looking out and through Archie’s across from hers. He’s sitting on his bed, strumming a melancholy tune on his guitar and singing along.

Betty leans against the window sill, closing her eyes and nodding her head along to the music. Archie is talented, he truly is, and seeing him do something he loves is a welcome distraction from how she destroyed him earlier today.

The lyrics, though, she finds peculiar. Sad, hopeless, his voice breaking every once in awhile, and she opens her eyes when he sings, “I’ve buried my love to give the world to you.”

He’s crying, tears slipping down his cheeks as he fights to keep his voice controlled, and Betty feels her heart clench when the music stops abruptly, Archie curling around his guitar as his back shakes with sobs.

She sighs, ignoring how her own hands tremble as she pulls the curtains shut. She’s seen enough of Archie’s heart breaking for a lifetime, she thinks, and sighs again as she remembers that she’ll have to see it again tomorrow when she holds Jughead’s hand in the hall on the way to class.

Sleep doesn’t come easily, but it does come, and she dreams of a world in which her name is on Jughead’s wrist and his is on hers and Archie smiles.

so please don’t break my heart

don’t tear me apart

The next day, Jughead won’t hold her hand. At least, not in front of Archie. And when Betty asks him why, he stops looking at her too.

“Jughead,” she tries, and then, “Jug.” Finally, desperately, she rasps, “Juggie.”

He glares at her, grasping her hand under their desks.

“There. Happy?”

She sighs, looking back down at her packet and reading the same sentence over and over again until the words blur together. She’s not sure what else to say.

When the bell rings, Jughead’s fingers loosen in hers, but he doesn’t let go. As the rest of the class clears out, she moves to do the same, but his voice, soft and stripped of sarcasm, stops her.

“Sorry,” he whispers, and she turns to meet his eyes, wanting to ask what, exactly, it is that he’s sorry for. Jughead only offers her a smile, one that reeks of apology and all those ugly feelings inside that he pretends he doesn’t have.

“Really, I am. Sorry, that is. It’s just that… that person I fell in love with? They… they really messed me up.”

She eyes him warily, unsure of what that has to do with him and her, and he brushes his fingers across her cheek with a smile and fond eyes.

“I like you, Betty. I do. But Archie’s my best friend .”

She purses her lips, tightening her hold on his hand.

“You’re not breaking up with me just because I’m his soulmate, right?”

Jughead laughs, kissing her, and shakes his head.

“I just, I know what it’s like to be broken. Wrecked, torn, so shattered you’re not sure you even know where all the pieces are , let alone how to put them back together.”

He meets her eyes, and she sees in them why she loves him. The kindness there, the empathy, the soul she wishes was bound to hers.

“I love Archie. I don’t want the same thing to happen to him. Not now, not ever.”

She smiles finally, understanding, and takes his other hand.

“You’re trying to protect him.”

Jughead shrugs and nods, eyes now resting on his left sleeve and softening.

“Guess so.”

Betty sighs, leaning forward to rest her head on his shoulder, and they stay like that for a long time, until the teacher finally asks them to leave.

“He’s happy for you, y’know,” Betty whispers as they leave, hand warm in Jughead’s. “Or he will be. Because you’re his best friend too, and he wants this for you.”

Jughead shakes his head, but he’s smiling, and she smiles back, pushing forward.

“And I’m his soulmate, and he wants this for me. Loving someone is wanting them to be happy, even if it’s not with you, and Archie loves us.”

Jughead smiles wider, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and she tucks herself into his side, thinking of soulmates and cookie cutter love stories.

I know how it starts

With Betty’s encouragement, Jughead starts be more open with her around Archie. It takes time, and patience, but soon enough he’s holding her hand and kissing her cheek while Archie watches, a smile on his face and sadness in his eyes. Betty tries her best to smile at him, to include him in her and Jughead’s conversations, and Jughead tries too, touching Archie’s arms and shoulders whenever he can in some form of apology, of reassurance.

Veronica’s  found her way into their group too, after some time, and Betty’s all the happier for it. Jughead is too, as far as Betty can tell, laughing at inside jokes with the girl and throwing the occasional arm around her shoulders when they’re walking down the hall. Veronica seems accustomed to this easy affection, and she knows things, things about Jughead and Archie and JugheadandArchie that Betty doesn’t. That Betty probably never will.

Betty wants to ask, at first. Because they seem to tiptoe around the subject of last summer, of anything that happened in those three months and even a little after, and Betty doesn’t know why but it’s evident that all three of them do .

She does ask, once, of Veronica, but the girl just snorts and tells Betty to get it out of her head because she’s never getting an answer. And Betty believes her, because Veronica’s not the kind of girl to bullshit people.

Which is why it’s such a surprise when she denies any suspicions of Archie being her soulmate, because Betty has seen her and Archie holding hands and talking in empty classrooms, because Veronica doesn’t like to talk about her soulmate the same way Jughead won’t show her his blank wrist, because Veronica doesn’t lie.

But Veronica lies to Betty.

trust me

I’ve been broken before

“I think Veronica and Archie are dating.”

Jughead starts choking, coughing up bits of burger as he reaches for his water, banging his chest in an effort to breathe.

“You think what ?” He finally manages to croak out, eyes still watery. Betty doesn’t miss the way his hand is suddenly on his left sleeve, tugging at the end of it. He hides his arm under the table as soon as he catches her looking.

“Sorry,” Jughead says, clearing his throat, and she smiles. “You think what ?”

Betty laughs despite herself, shaking her head in exasperation. God, she loves this clueless boy.

“Veronica and Archie,” she says. “They’re dating. It’s so obvious, with all the little touches and glances. They hold hands all the time, I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

She laughs again, reaching across the table for his hand.

“This is amazing, isn’t it? I mean, our best friends have found each other even in -”

She pauses, realizing that Jughead’s hand isn’t in hers. She looks up at him, a puzzled look on her face, and feels her cheeks pale as she sees his expression.

Jughead has curled in on himself, knuckles white with how hard he’s holding his left wrist. His eyes are glistening, and not just with the aftermath of choking anymore. His mouth is set in a hard line, but it twitches in the tell-tale sign that Jughead is about to cry.

“Jug?” She whispers, reaching for him, and that’s when he suddenly seems to remember she’s there.

He stands up so fast she barely has time to blink, grabbing his bag and rushing out the door of Pop’s. It reminds her so much of that night she met Veronica that she nearly follows him, until she notices she can still see him out the window, crumpled at the bottom of a street light and rocking back and forth, head in his arms.

So Betty stays where she is, watching him cry until he pulls out his phone, calling someone who makes him smile. More than she ever has, to be honest, and that’s when she looks away, getting up to pay.

When she steps out into the cool night air, she glances over to the street light.

Jughead’s there, smiling next to a pick up truck, Archie’s forehead pressed against his and hands cupping Jughead’s face. The scene feels familiar somehow, like she’s seen it before, but she knows she hasn’t. Jughead and Archie are careful with their affection for each other, cautious in public and reckless in private, their grins so close they could be touching as they whisper to each other.

Betty wonders if she’ll ever make Jughead smile like that.

don’t break me again

I am delicate

“Hey, Betts,” Veronica says, smiling easily as she slides smoothly into the booth across from Betty. Betty smiles.

“So, whatcha doing here?” Veronica asks, waving her hand at Pop for an order of fries, which is all she ever gets here anyway. Betty feels her smile fall, eyes cast down at the table.

“Nothing else to do. Jughead won’t talk to me.”

Veronica’s hand slides across the table and wraps around Betty’s, squeezing kindly, and Betty looks up with a small smile. Veronica smiles back, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You guys will figure it out. It’s gonna be fine.”

Betty laughs, the sound unexpectedly wet, and wipes at her eyes. She reaches for Veronica’s other hand, running her fingers over the many rings on the girl’s red polished fingers.

“I don’t know, Ronnie,” she whispers, allowing the crippling doubt to creep into her voice. “You didn’t see him. It was like one minute everything was fine, and the next he was crying .”

Veronica’s eyes widen, and then she hangs her head with a sigh.

“Did you ask about his soulmate again? Because you should know better than to do that by now -”

Betty’s momentarily distracted.

“Jughead doesn’t have a soulmate.”

Veronica raises an eyebrow. She seems to carefully think over her next words, speaking painfully slowly.

“Is that what he told you?”

Betty nods, wanting Veronica to stop looking at her like that.

“Yeah. He said he’s no one’s soulmate.”

Veronica sighs again, shaking her head and offering Betty a strained smile.

“He isn’t. But he does have a soulmate, Betts.”

Betty’s blood runs cold.

“Do you mean…?”

Veronica nods, solemn and sad.

“Yeah.”

Betty pulls away to cover her mouth with her hands, eyes welling up with tears.

“So… so…”

Veronica’s eyes are sympathetic.

“Yeah. Jughead fell for his soulmate, hard, and they didn’t fall back. Or at least, it didn’t look that way.”

Her voice lowers until it’s barely a whisper.

“He’s never really been the same.”

Betty pulls her hands away from her mouth, fingers shaking as she threads them through Veronica’s again.

“What can I do?”

Veronica smiles, but it’s still tainted by melancholy.

“Just, don’t mention it. And… love him until he forgets, I guess.”

Betty nods, again and again until she’s dizzy.

“Okay. Okay, I can do that.”

please don’t break my heart

trust me

I’ve been broken before

“You need to go out tonight.”

“No, no I don’t.”

“C’mon, Betty. You can’t live in your room for the rest of your life.”

“Actually, yes, I can.”

It was that retort, Betty’s pretty sure, that landed her here. At this crowded high school party, a million guys’ eyes on her in the pink dress Veronica let her borrow. Or maybe it’s just the fact that no one can deny Veronica Lodge anything, and Betty’s starting to think that applies to her too.

Veronica pulls her by the hand through the crowd. Betty tries to focus on finding Jughead, but it’s hard when the music is blasting so loud and Veronica’s fingers are warm.

Betty, for some unexplainable reason, really likes holding Veronica’s hand. More than she likes holding Jughead’s, she thinks sometimes, but always shakes that thought from her head before she can take it too seriously, because it’s a dangerous sentiment.

Veronica hands her a red solo cup, still not letting go of Betty’s hand, and Betty downs all of it in one go. When she looks over at Veronica, the girl’s eyes are twinkling, with something like pride and admiration. Betty grins, tempted to lean in and just -

There’s Jughead.

He’s on the couch, pressed against Archie, the two of them grinning and talking. Jughead’s on his knees, entire body bending towards Archie, and Archie’s arm is curled around Jughead’s back, gentle and relaxed like it belongs there.

And, Betty thinks, it probably does.

They’re both holding red solo cups, most likely filled with the same disgusting liquid hers was before she downed it all. But even as the boys swing their arms in gestures as they talk, the cups don’t spill or splash, so Betty reaches the tipsy conclusion that they’re probably empty, and the boys are probably drunk.

Otherwise they’d never be so close to each other in public, so open with how much they care about one another. Sometimes Betty thinks those two give best friends a whole new meaning, and sometimes she thinks best friends mean all those two are. She’s just never seen such a thing anywhere else, because like Archie and Jughead when they’re sober, people hide it.

Betty doesn’t even realize she’s started moving until she’s almost right in front of them, close enough to hear Archie whisper, “God, you’re beautiful,” in a tone of wonder, fondness, and somehow everything else in between. Jughead’s cheeks pinken and he smiles, pressing his forehead to Archie’s and looping an arm around Archie’s neck, fingers brushing through the hair on Archie’s nape.

If Betty were sober, and if Betty were smarter, she’d probably think something along the lines of this isn’t normal . But somehow, with Archie and Jughead, it seems like it is.

Betty sighs in happiness, collapsing onto the couch beside them and pushing herself into Jughead’s side, under his arm. Archie’s eyes flicker with something when he sees her, but he just smiles and stands to leave, whispering something in Jughead’s ear as he goes.

“Love you too!” Jughead shouts across the room, and Archie’s eyes shine from where he stands wrapped around Veronica, grin widening into a blinding beam. Betty giggles, thinking that yes, they are all most definitely drunk, and this is most definitely not normal.

Jughead seems to notice her then, looking down at her under his arm and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Warmth shoots through her, and she leans up to kiss him on the mouth but his eyes are already elsewhere.

Locked on Archie, Betty finds when she looks up, filled to the brim with some emotion Betty can’t quite place but knows she’s seen before.

I know I’m not the best at choosing lovers

After the party, Jughead seems to have forgiven her. The night is a blur to Betty, her only memories being a few scenes that are frozen like photos.

Jughead’s mouth open in a smile at something off-camera. Veronica’s hand in hers by the keg. Archie’s eyes closed as he sways to the music.

She tries asking Veronica if she missed anything, but Veronica just looks at her with bloodshot eyes over the rims of her sunglasses and flips her off.

She hasn’t dared to ask Jughead or Archie, mainly because they actually look happy right now. Open, carefree, Jughead leaning into Archie’s side with the redhead’s arm around him. They’re somewhat keeping track of the conversation, saying something every now and then to Veronica and Betty in the booth across from them, but mostly they’re whispering in each other’s ears and laughing at inside jokes.

Betty holds Jughead’s hand under the table, their ankles crossed over each other’s, but he’s not really looking at her. He’s too absorbed in the sunshine that is his best friend, and Betty’s sure that if she wanted to, she could finally lift up his sleeve and see who he’s hiding from her.

But she doesn’t want to. At least not right now, not while they’re all smiling and the boy she loves looks so happy, tucked into his best friend like they’re one person. And she’s content with not having much of his attention, for once.

This has nothing to do with Veronica’s arm wrapped around her waist and the lipstick prints on Betty’s cheek from friendly hello kisses.

Nothing at all.

we both know my past speaks for itself

Betty holds Veronica’s hand any chance she gets. It’s become a habit now, to just reach across the inch of space between them to thread their fingers together. Veronica never protests, and so Betty never hesitates.

So that’s how they walk home from Pop’s, Jughead safe in Archie’s truck and Betty safe with Veronica. The roads are dark, only lit by the dim old lightbulbs in street lamps, but it feels somehow magically secure, like someone invisible is protecting them. Many someones.

Betty’s pink cardigan is around Veronica’s shoulders, though her arms aren’t in the sleeves. The drowsy girl has her head nuzzled into Betty’s neck, and as uncomfortable as it is to walk this way, Betty would never even dream of asking her to move.

“How’s dating Archie?” Betty asks, voice soft and words slurred, and Veronica smiles, the expression drunken and sappy. Betty grins, ignoring the confusing twist of something in her stomach.

“Fine,” Veronica says, shrugging, and pulls away from Betty to twirl herself around a street lamp, giggling to herself. Betty grins, pulling Veronica into her arms for an awkward dance in wobbly heels.

“You wanna hear the funniest thing?” Veronica whispers in her ear, and Betty shivers, burying her face in Veronica’s shoulder and breathing in the smell of her strawberry shampoo. Mmm, blueberry and banana too. Maybe some kiwi?

“What?” Betty says, voice soft, and Veronica giggles, lips brushing Betty’s ear a little too lightly to be called a kiss.

“Archie and I are only dating because our soulmates don’t love us back.”

There’s a sudden hush, all the air stolen from Betty’s parched lips, and she holds on tighter, locking her arms around Veronica’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” Betty says sorrowfully, a murmur, and Veronica just grins, lips curling against Betty’s neck.

“It’s okay,” she laughs. “It always is, right?”

Betty shakes her head, pulling back, and takes both of Veronica’s hands and squeezes them.

“Who’re you in love with?” She says earnestly. “Maybe I can help.”

Veronica gives her a pointed look, turning away and tugging Betty gently down the street. They’re nearing Archie’s house, where Jughead and Archie are sitting on the steps and talking, heads bent close together. They don’t notice the girls walk past, and Betty gets ready to pretend it doesn’t bother her, then realizes it really doesn’t.

“I think you know,” Veronica says softly, letting go of Betty’s hand as Betty reaches for her keys. “And I think you know you can’t.”

Betty smiles, trying to keep the sadness from bleeding into her eyes, and pulls Veronica into one last, long hug.

“I’m sorry anyway,” she whispers, and Veronica pulls away and doesn’t look back, but not before kissing Betty’s cheek goodbye.

if you don’t think that we’re right for each other

Jughead’s scratching his left wrist over the sleeve when Betty slides into the booth across from him. He smiles at her, and though it’s half-hearted and he’s clearly tired and forcing himself to be here, Betty feels her heart warm.

God, what this boy can do to her. Even with only a smile.

“So I was talking to Ronnie last night,” she starts slowly, second guessing her decision to tell him this, but then pushes that thought aside and continues. “She says that she and Archie are only dating because their soulmates don’t love them back.”

Jughead’s eyes darken as he looks down at the table, fingers curling around his left wrist and squeezing. Betty watches him carefully, not sure if she should say something else or just left him think.

“Is Archie okay?” Jughead finally rasps after ten minutes, voice tight and jaw set, and Betty ponders just how she should answer this for longer than is probably nessecary.

“I think,” she licks her lips, threading her fingers together, “you should ask him.”

She expects a fight, a sarcastic remark about how dumb of a suggestion that is, would she please just tell him, but Jughead just nods. Slow and solemn, still not meeting her eyes.

“I was wondering…” Betty starts, then pauses. Jughead reaches across the table for her hand, his other tucked carefully against his stomach, his hidden soulmark twisted away from her.

“Yeah?” He says softly, and she takes a deep breath.

“Who’s Veronica’s soulmate?”

She holds her breath, waiting for him to tug his hand away and tell her she’s better off not knowing. That soulmates are bullshit and she shouldn’t worry about them, or something.

“I don’t know.”

Betty breathes. She lets out a laugh, scratching the back of her neck, and smiles when Jughead does, squeezing his hand.

“Really? But you guys are so…”

“Close?” Jughead asks, smiling. He shrugs. “Sometimes. As far as I know she’s never told anybody. Besides, she’s the only one who knows my soulmate’s name, and that was a spur of the moment kind of thing, so I get it. I don’t expect her to tell me.”

Betty shakes her head, leg bouncing up and down under the table. She’s cold, and nervous, the subject of soulmates taboo with them. Jughead’s hand disappears from hers only to grasp her fingers again as he slides into the booth next to her, dropping his other arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her head.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He whispers, and she closes her eyes, leaning into him. “She’s fine. They’re both fine.”

“But they should be happy,” Betty says mournfully, and Jughead’s hand tightens in hers.

“Is anybody ever really?”

And Betty thinks about that, for the rest of their date. On the ride home. As she’s staring at her ceiling, trying to sleep.

And then, when her eyes finally close, those words fill her dreams.

then please don’t let history repeat itself

The next day at school, Betty forgoes the cafeteria and brings her paper bag lunch to the student lounge. It’s empty, save for Jughead, scribbling in a journal on the couch and trying not to smile, lips twitching up from indifference every few seconds or so.

“Hey,” she says softly, sitting down next to him and setting her lunch on the table, and he smiles, looking up from his writing to kiss her nose. She wrinkles it and grins, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his back.

“Whatcha writing?” She whispers, and his eyes soften, like Jughead’s mind has travelled elsewhere while his body rests against Betty’s.

“A poem,” he says. “Wanna read it?”

Her eyes widen. He’s never - not even with Archie that she’s seen, he’s asking her if she wants - really? This can’t be real, he -

He’s watching her worriedly now, unsure, because she’s been silent too long.

“Yeah,” she blurts, breathless. “Yeah, yes. Sure.”

He beams, all his teeth showing, and she kisses him, because she can and because they’re happy, even if Jughead’s words from last night are still bouncing around in her head.

He hands her the notebook and she sits up, withdrawing her arm from his back and her head from his shoulder to hold the journal gingerly, gently, because it’s important to him so it’s important to her.

There’s a dedication at the top, but it’s scratched over messily, like Jughead had decided at the last minute that it was too dangerous to have in writing. So now it’s a secret, only for him and his heart to know. She wonders if one day it’ll be hers to know too.

my lost one, the one my heart still burns for,

your eyes are the walnuts on trees with fiery leaves

dark and good enough to get drunk off of, to eat

I can never tell what you’re thinking over by our window

can I ask you about pretty girls and would you ask me if I love you

in summer when you’re driving I feel safe

and I eat walnuts while you sing along to the radio

I’m smiling and I can see all your teeth when you laugh

and kissing you is like letting liquid sunshine spill into me

chocolate kisses from strawberry lips that you let bleed dry

I never said a word because your friends stared at us

I know they’d ask you why you loved me

but you’re my one, were my one, and I liked to believe I was yours

you’d sing me love songs with my name written in the margins

and I’d write fairytales for us with happy endings

you set me on fire, made me warm and gooey inside like

fresh baked chocolate chip cookies and cold milk

kissing sitting on your kitchen counter and feeling your laugh

shake my bones and stop my heart, hands tangled like ropes and red strings

and I let that fire burn day and night like I’d never cry enough tears to put it out

I burned so long and quiet

you must have wondered if I loved you back

I did, I did, I do

and I watch you when you sleep

wondering if you dream of walnuts and red leaves in the fall

wondering if you dream of lost things like me, things you’ll never find

“Wow,” she whispers, at a loss for words, and Jughead grins, kissing her shoulder. His fingers are tapping against his left sleeve again in a jittery rhythm, and she smiles, handing back the journal and taking his hand.

“You’re amazing,” she murmurs, and he doesn’t say thank you.

He doesn’t say anything, just smiles, and she thinks, in that moment, that he’s wrong.

Happiness must exist, because this is it.

cause I want you

I want you

there’s nothing else I want

Betty knows, without a doubt, one thing in this world, and that is that Jughead Jones loves his friends.

She smiles as she watches him tackle Veronica onto the grass, her designer dress getting all mussed up as they roll around, tangled in each other and laughing. Jughead’s beanie fell off awhile ago, resting a few feet from Veronica’s broken pearl necklace, pearls scattered everywhere. They sparkle in the sun among the tiny flower weeds, and Betty wonders what a crown of pearls and flowers would look like on Veronica’s head.

Archie’s standing next to her, leaning against the fence as they watch Jughead and Veronica, now just lying next to each other and laughing at the sky, Jughead shouting something towards the blue and Veronica following. It sounds like they’re screaming curse words, and they probably are because they both burst into giggles, clutching their stomachs and turning towards each other as they bend their knees up to their chests.

“They’re awesome, aren’t they?” Betty whispers, and Archie smiles, hands in his pockets.

“Yeah. We’re lucky.”

In another world Betty would pick that apart until she was convinced the words meant nothing at all, but in this moment she’s looping her arm through Archie’s and saying, “Yeah, we are.”

They stay like that, in the quiet, until Betty leans her head on Archie’s shoulder, smiling as she sees Jughead tickling a screaming Veronica, whose dress is rumpled and riding up.

“Did Jughead ever tell you about his soulmate?”

Archie shrugs, still watching his best friend and girlfriend out on the field with a grin.

“Nope. Never.”

“Why?”

Archie turns towards her then, eyebrows raised. Betty swallows.

“Never asked. I mean, he got so messed up I was afraid to even touch him for awhile.”

His voice lowers to a whisper, eyes flicking towards his best friend again.

“He was never around, anyway. Something happened over the summer, something bad, and he found Veronica. And I tried to respect his space. But he dragged me back to his side by September, and I went willingly.”

In the distance, Jughead helps Veronica up from the grass and pulls her into a hug, whispering something in her ear. She says something back, brushing her hair behind her ear, and then they start walking back towards Archie and Betty, Jughead’s arm around Veronica’s shoulders.

“He’s your best friend,” Betty whispers. “Didn’t you miss him?”

Archie’s eyes sadden, locked on Jughead and Veronica, and he shrugs.

“Don’t I always?”

And that, that , Betty stays up obsessing over.

Well, that and the way Veronica kissed her hands and her hair and her cheeks and left lipstick stains all over Betty’s skin that she’s afraid to wash off.

cause I want you

I want you

and you’re the only thing I want

They’re in Betty’s room when she asks.

“Do you maybe…” She swallows, then breathes in and out and finishes, “wanna stay the night?”

It’s a whisper by the time she reaches the last word, nervous and shaking, but Jughead doesn’t seem to notice, flipping through her copy of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre .

“Can’t,” he says, not looking up. “Archie and I are gonna play LEGO video games until three a.m.”

Betty takes another deep breath, reaching over to take his hand.

“Jughead.”

He looks up then, clearly confused. She smiles, kisses him deep, and pulls back barely an inch to whisper, “Do you wanna stay the night ?”

Jane Eyre makes a loud thump when it hits the floor.

“Um,” he says, licking his lips, “won’t your parents mind?”

She grins, leaning in closer.

“They’re not home.”

Jughead swallows, eyes flicking down to her lips, and whispers, “Um…”

Betty presses her lips to his. His hand trembles around hers, the other cupping her cheek, and she smiles.

“C’mon, Jug,” she says, voice low and sweet. “Please?”

He nods, slowly, and brushes his shaking thumb across her cheek.

“Okay. Okay.”

She grins, leaning in and kissing him again.

And again.

And again, and again, and again .

it’s you

it’s always you

Last night was amazing.

My god, last night was amazing.

This is what Betty thinks on her way to school, after kissing Jughead awake and spending all morning trying to make him smile. This is what Betty thinks through her classes, doodling hearts in the margins of her notes and dozing off whenever the teacher talks for too long. This is what Betty thinks as she walks home, clicking her heels together every few steps and twirling herself around street lamps like Veronica did all that time ago.

She can’t do her homework. She can’t breathe. She can’t eat, she can’t sleep, and she stays up until midnight listening to all the giddy love songs she can find, dancing around her room with no direction. She wonders if back when she was ten, this is what she thought love’d be like.

She’s spinning past the window when she opens her upside-down smile eyes and sees Jughead, on his knees in Archie’s arms.

She pauses her music and takes out her earbuds, smile fading as she walks closer to the window.

Jughead’s crying.

She has to strain her ears to hear what he’s saying, because his face is in his hands and he’s a window away, but she can hear him.

“And I just… I feel so dirty, y’know? Wrong, inside out, exposed, like everything’s pouring out of me while I try desperately to shove it back in.”

A sob rips past his lips and he covers his mouth with his hand, Archie’s head bent as he whispers something in Jughead’s ear. Betty’s not sure, but she thinks Archie might be crying too.

“I wish it’d never happened,” Jughead rasps. “I don’t want it to happen again. Ever.”

Jughead turns his head towards Archie, eyes wide and glistening as the tears continue to overflow. Archie looks heartbroken.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Jughead says, voice strained and weak. “Does this make me even more of a freak than I already am?”

Archie’s mouth opens, hand coming up to cup Jughead’s face, brushing his thumb back and forth across Jughead’s cheek as he blinks, probably trying to keep his own tears in for his best friend.

“No, Jug. You’re not a freak. You’ve never been a freak. I love you.”

And that’s when Jughead really falls to pieces, burying his face in Archie’s shoulder and grasping at the redhead’s back, which shakes as Archie gives in and lets the tears fall, cradling his broken friend to his chest and breaking with him.

Neither of them ever notice Betty, frozen in the window with her earbuds still hanging from her trembling hands.

if I’m ever gonna fall in love

I know it’s gon be you

After that, Jughead sticks to Archie like glue. The redhead and writer are almost never apart, Jughead usually drowning in Archie’s letterman jacket with his best friend’s hand tight in his.

Betty watches them like this until lunch. Then she sprints down the hall in her heels to the student lounge, where she knows Jughead’ll be hiding.

She skids to a stop at the door, taking a deep breath before pressing her hand flat against the glass and wood, pushing it open just a little bit.

She peeks through the crack she’s created and sees Jughead with Archie, kneeling next to him on the couch. He’s turned towards Archie, head dropped on his best friend’s shoulder, and she notices that Jughead’s hand rests on Archie’s thigh, Archie’s own hand curled around Jughead’s.

Jughead’s eyes are closed and he looks exhausted. Archie’s just watching him, his own eyes soft and fond, a small smile on his face as he runs his free hand through Jughead’s hair, his beanie discarded on the coffee table.

“I found a word for it.”

Archie’s voice is thunder in the silence, but Jughead doesn’t flinch, his own voice sleepy when he answers.

“For what?”

Archie grins, kissing Jughead’s hair.

“For how you feel. Or how you said you did.”

He pauses when he sees Jughead’s eyes open, blinking up at Archie. He smiles, scratching Jughead’s scalp like he’s a cat before continuing.

“It’s called asexuality. It means that you don’t experience sexual attraction but can still have romantic feelings.”

Jughead’s eyes are glistening. His voice is shaky when he speaks, breathless and wet with emotion.

“There’s a word for it?”

Archie smiles, nodding.

“Yeah. Yeah, there is, Jug. There are other people out there just like you,” he whispers. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all.”

Jughead’s mouth drops open in disbelief and Archie stops carding his hand through Jughead’s hair in favor of cupping the back of Jughead’s neck. He looks straight into Jughead’s eyes, the love and adoration in his own unyielding.

“And there wouldn’t have been even if there wasn’t a word for it. There’s never been anything wrong with you, and there still isn’t,” Archie murmurs. “Okay, Jug? I promise.”

Jughead finally smiles then, laughing wetly.

“So I’m not a freak?”

Archie grins, wrapping his arm around Jughead’s shoulders and pulling him in for a hug.

“You’re my best friend, Juggie. I wouldn’t care even if you were.”

Jughead laughs, free of tears this time, and Betty pulls back from the door, closing it as quietly as she can. She stands there for a long time, listening to them laugh and joke until the bell rings, telling her that lunch is over.

Something else feels over too, but she can’t put her finger on what something else is.

it’s you

it’s always you

Jughead calls her three days after the conversation she accidentally and probably shouldn’t have witnessed in the student lounge. He says he’s sorry, and that he misses her, and can she please meet him at Pop’s tonight at six, his treat.

She knows he’s lying. She always pays.

She says yes anyway and heads over two hours late, because somehow it doesn’t feel like it matters.

She’s right. He’s there when she comes in, writing something down in his journal, and she smiles softly at the sight of him. Jughead Jones, mysterious writer and twenty-four hour resident of Pop’s. Jughead Jones, hers .

Betty slides into the booth across from him and when he looks up, they smile at each other. He brushes his journal to the side and reaches for her hands, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of them.

“Thanks for coming,” he says, all soft and gentle.

“I’m late,” Betty says, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind, and as she blushes he laughs.

“I know,” he says. “But I don’t care.”

She smiles, ducking her head.

“Me neither.”

Jughead swallows, licking his lips, and says, “Hey, I really am sorry. For avoiding you. It was a shitty move.”

She shrugs, the warm feeling in her stomach quickly fading.

“I forgive you,” she says, because it’s not okay, but she understands.

He nods, cheeks turning pink, and looks away from her. She waits for his next words, already knowing what they’re going to be, and ignores the black hole in her abdomen as she imagines how she’ll respond.

“I’m, uh,” he says, then stops. “I’m asexual.”

She nods slowly and he chances a glance at her.

“Okay.”

His eyes widen.

“Okay?”

She smiles, amused, and shrugs.

“What did you think I was gonna say?”

He blinks quickly a couple of times in a row, and pulls his bottom lip into his mouth. He takes his hands back and crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back in his seat and looking out the window.

“Not okay,” he answers, and she thinks that that may be what she meant. Because she loved it, she craves it, and she’s not sure anymore that she cares if it’s with him.

Maybe this is the something else .

met a lot of people

but nobody feels like you

Betty asks Veronica to come over the next time she wants to see Jughead, because he doesn’t want her that way and Veronica’s slowly become her best friend over the last few months. Veronica doesn’t ask why Betty’s asking. She just shows up at Betty’s house ten minutes after they hang up.

It’s late, midnight at this point, and they’re sitting on Betty’s bed, criss-cross and facing each other. Their fingers are loosely tangled together between them, and Veronica’s eyes are closed.

“How’d you meet Jughead?” Betty asks, soft and quiet. Veronica smiles but doesn’t open her eyes.

“He needed someone.” She shrugs. “I was there.”

“Why?” Betty asks. “What happened?”

At this, Veronica’s eyes open, clear and dark and beautiful. Betty’s breath is momentarily taken away.

“Last summer was bad. Really bad,” Veronica murmurs. “Jughead fell for his soulmate, and it seemed like they were falling for him too. And then there was a fight, and some cancelled plans, and they stopped talking. He didn’t have anyone else, so he found me.”

Betty cocks her head.

“Just like that?”

Veronica smirks, blush sparkling on her cheeks in the dim light of Betty’s only lamp.

“Yeah. Just like that.”

“Mmm.”

They sit in the quiet like that for a few more minutes, until Betty whispers, “Who is Jughead’s soulmate?”

Veronica, who had closed her eyes again, opens them. She gives Betty a look, one of anger and cool indifference somehow silmultaneously.

“If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”

Betty nods slowly, readjusting her hands in Veronica’s without ever letting go.

“But you know.”

Veronica sighs.

“Of course I do. He was a wreck that night, he could barely talk. So I pulled up his sleeve and I let him cry.”

Betty feels fury spark in her gut when she thinks of someone making Jughead cry. She hates that she’s no better than his soulmate in that arena.

“Don’t you think he deserves better?” She seethes. “A better soulmate? Better than what the universe fucked him over with?”

Veronica watches her calmly, then looks away when Betty meets her eyes.

“Yes,” she says quietly. “I do. He’s like a brother to me.”

All the air leaves Betty’s lungs and she slumps, hanging her head.

“I mean, how can the universe be so wrong?”

Veronica looks up at her, eyes sad when Betty lifts her head to meet them with her own.

“It’s our fault for never looking elsewhere,” Veronica says softly. “I mean, I don’t think soulmates just mean the name on your arm, but most people do. And most people get stuck on that. They never even try to pull themselves free.”

“Are you stuck?” Betty says curiously. Veronica smiles sadly, squeezing Betty’s hands.

“Probably.”

Betty gives her a sympathetic smile.

“What do soulmates mean, then? To you? Just the name on your arm, or…”

Veronica smiles, eyes suddenly distant and glazed over, unfocused and fixated on a spot just past Betty’s head.

“Or,” she whispers. “They mean… they mean walking holding hands on the beach in winter. They mean throwing surprise birthday parties for just the two of you. They mean asking if they’re okay and knowing they’re lying when they say they’re fine, and they mean asking again and again until they tell you because they know they can trust you and are just embarrassed to be hurt. Because them being hurt hurts you, and they never want you to be hurt. That’s what soulmates mean.”

Betty’s heart beats fast in her chest, cheeks warm. When Veronica looks at her again, her eyes are twinkling.

“It means sitting here like this.”

Betty grins.

“You think we’re soulmates, Vee?” She teases.

Veronica smiles, laughs. But there’s something sad about the way she kisses Betty’s knuckles, murmuring, “Nah. I’ve never been that lucky.”

so please don’t break my heart

don’t tear me apart

Sometimes Jughead leaves his journal open on her desk when they watch movies, lying next to each other on her bed. She’s never been to Jughead’s house, and she’d ask why not but she’s seen Jughead in Archie’s room almost every night since she started looking and she’s pretty sure that’s home for Jughead, regardless of the address written in his file.

The journal is filled with poems, and stories, and ideas and drawings and even song lyrics in Archie’s loopy scrawl, with hearts drawn next to them and dedications to Jughead scribbled down too. Sometimes Jughead’s flipping through it next to her and when he reads Archie’s words, his eyes always go soft and he always smiles.

Jughead never tells her she can read the journal. He never says, “You can read it if you want,” out loud, but she knows because he sees her eyeing it one day and just shrugs, laughing when she trips over her own feet trying to get to it.

Betty’s favorite poem of his is dated the day before she and Jughead met. The dedication is scratched out, just like the first one she read, but she doesn’t really read them even when they are there, because they’re usually nicknames she’s never heard before for people she’s never met before.

fall apart into my hands like gooey brownies in July left out on the counter

and I’ll catch you if you promise to clean up the mess I made

of your turqoise tiles

I painted them with batter when you weren’t home and threw chocolate chips and cocoa mix into the air like sequins and glitter

I wanted to see if I could make your kitchen into a gingerbread house

because we both loved tall tales and fables and you were the prince charming of my fairytale

so I wanted to be yours

hold me in your arms until the sun stops rising because the world’s stopped spinning

and I’ll hold you like I’m tied to you by invisible red strings

the ones I made a heart out of on your bulletin board with pictures of us caught in the web

flowers dried and pressed into my books when you thought I wasn’t looking

songs that you sang only for me and stories that I wrote only for you

and in another world we’d be stars in a constellation of kisses and late nights

curl your fingers around mine and breathe in my lips like the smell of honey and cinnamon

I’ll squeeze them whenever you need to be reminded that I’m here even when it’s cold and my fingers are like icicles and your nails dig into my palms

we’ll make snow angels in the sand at the beach and I’ll drive on the way home

and you’ll say, “Let’s go to bed,” and call your bedroom ours even though it has only one of everything

and I’ll know what you mean and I’ll follow you and we’ll dance

you’ll sing along softly in my ear and you’ll ask me to tell you a story

I’ll tell you ours

and you’ll ask me if it has a happy ending

and I’ll say, “Look around you.”

It reminds Betty of happiness, and it makes her think that Jughead most definitely knows it exists and just hides it because of whatever. But he knows happiness, he’s felt it, and she sees it in his smiles and his laughs and the way his eyes light up at the sight of words spray-painted on the side of abandoned buildings.

Jughead Jones, Betty thinks, could be happiness itself if he just managed to shut out the world.

I know how it starts

The honk of a horn wakes Betty up from her blank dreams on Friday night, and she wanders sleepily over to her window to see Archie’s pick up truck parked in front of her house, Jughead in the passenger’s seat with his hands in Archie’s hair as the redhead leans across him to grin up at Betty while Veronica waves wildly from the back of the pick up truck, smiling like a loon.

Betty smiles back, raising a finger to her lips, shhh . Then she runs down the steps and out the front door, forgetting to lock the door and change out of her pink long sleeve shirt and white with red hearts pajama pants. She’s got no shoes on, but she can hardly bring herself to care.

Veronica’s in a black onesie with a tail and a hood that has cat ears. Jughead’s in his beanie and one of Archie’s hoodies, plaid pajama pants pooling around his bare ankles, and Archie’s in a T-shirt and grey sweatpants. The window between the back and the front seats is open, so Betty bends down to kiss Jughead’s lips before sitting down in the back and taking Veronica’s hand, pressing her knuckles to Betty’s closed mouth.

Veronica blushes and Betty smiles, leaning into Veronica’s side as the truck starts up, driving fast down the residential streets and heading for the highway.

Jughead turns the radio on and Lorde blasts through the speakers, Perfect Places waking up the neighbors at two a.m. as they careen past Pop’s and out of town.

Veronica whoops, throwing her fist in the air, and Jughead laughs, loud and happy as Archie grins at him, tangling their fingers together on the console. Betty beams, closing her eyes and screaming at the top of her lungs.

Four crazy kids, driving with no direction through the streets at two a.m. on a Saturday in their pajamas. That’s life, isn’t it, soulmates be damned, and Betty finally lets the butterflies in as Veronica’s lips touch her cheek, tangled raven hair flying in the wind behind her.

trust me

I’ve been broken before

They get home on Sunday, never answering the worried phone calls from their parents, except Archie (because he’s Archie) and Jughead by extension, who screams, “Hi, Dad!” into the phone’s speaker as if it’s not right next to Fred’s ear on the other end. Fred laughs and says, “Hey, Jug,” as Archie grins at his best friend with twinkling eyes.

The boys drop Betty and Veronica at Betty’s house, because Veronica says she’d rather not face her mother at this hour and Betty doesn’t want to let go of her hand.

It’s late, or early depending on how you see it. It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since they left, and Betty closes the door quietly behind her and Veronica before helping her sneak up the stairs, the two of them collapsing onto Betty’s bed in a fit of laughter.

“God,” Veronica says, breathless. “I can’t believe us.”

Betty giggles, rolling onto her side and resting her head on Veronica’s chest.

“I can’t believe us either.”

Veronica laughs again, and Betty smiles as she moves her head to look up at her. Veronica nudges their noses together, closing her eyes, and Betty follows suit, thinking that maybe falling asleep like this every night wouldn’t be so bad.

She’s almost drifted off when music starts up from outside, soft and yet too loud at the same time. It’s upbeat and jaunty, and she sits up and pulls a sleepy Veronica with her to the window, where they kneel and rest their chins in their hands, elbows on the window pane.

In Archie’s bedroom, there’s one lamp on. Archie’s twirling Jughead and grinning, Jughead laughing as he stumbles and crashes into Archie’s chest.

I like shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings, uh huh, that’s right, darlin’, you’re the one I want.

The woman singing sounds joyful, happy, and Betty smiles as she sees that Jughead is too, fingers brushing through Archie’s hair as Archie grins into Jughead’s shoulder and they spin slowly in a circle, rocking from side to side.

I want to drive away with you. I want your complications too. I want your dreary Mondays. Wrap your arms around me, baby boy.

The song fades out, Archie and Jughead stilling in each other’s arms, and Betty sees Jughead close his eyes, fisting his fingers in Archie’s hair and shirt and holding on tight.

She smiles.

“Do you ever think soulmates are wrong?” She whispers, watching the boy she loves safe in the arms of his best friend, and she turns to see if Veronica’s looking at Archie the same way.

Instead Veronica’s eyes are on her, wide with wonder, and Betty feels Veronica’s hold on her hand tighten.

“Sometimes,” Veronica murmurs, and they stare at each other even as the music fades away and Archie’s light goes out.

don’t break me again

I am delicate

Veronica always wears long sleeves, like Jughead. Betty’s never noticed before, but she’s starting to. She’s starting to notice a lot of little things about the enigma that is Veronica Lodge, because Veronica Lodge is her best friend and Veronica Lodge is beautiful.

Betty leaves her window open when she sleeps, wanting to be able to hear any music or laughter or words that come from Archie’s window and Jughead’s mouth. Butterflies come in sometimes, and bees too, but Betty doesn’t mind so much, putting flowers on the windowsill for them to land on.

Jughead asks about her window the next time he’s in her room, pecking her lips on the commercial breaks, and she just smiles and tells him that it’s summer.

In truth, the window is love. Because love is flowers and openness and staying up late for just the chance that you’ll get to see them one more time before you close your eyes.

please don’t break my heart

trust me

I’ve been broken before

“Can I read another one of your poems?” Betty asks. They’re at Pop’s, and right around dinnertime too, so the place is hopping. She’s sitting across from Jughead, whose hand is warm in hers.

He smiles, soft and kind, and scribbles down one more thing before dropping the pen and pushing the journal towards her. She grins, squeezing his hand and then letting go to flip through the coveted pages she’s become so familiar with.

This time the dedication is readable, but barely.

For my soulmate, it says. For my best friend.

Betty’s smile falters, brushing her hands across the letters. To think, this is what loving your soulmate does to you.

“You okay?”

Jughead’s voice is gentle, but loud, and she jumps in surprise and looks up at him, quick to put a smile back on her face.

“Yeah,” she says, breathless. “Yeah, I’m good. Zoned out for a second.”

Jughead huffs out a laugh, smiling, and gestures for her to keep going.

“Go on then.”

Betty grins, smiling when he takes her hand to press a kiss to the back of it. She pulls her hand back when he’s done, eyes flicking up to him every now and then as she reads.

love me even when I ask you not to

love me when it’s raining and I’m the stormcloud

love me when I’m alone and you want to leave me that way

I’m the butterflies in your stomach and the heart in your chest

when you’re afraid I feel afraid too

but I’d never ask you to stop feeling because

I love the love and happiness and sadness and anger and fear and pride and shame and calm and lonely that pours off of you

be my stormcloud and cry rain and I’ll love you

break the windows of abandoned houses with me

and write I LOVE YOU on every wall

in black and red and white and blue and yellow and green and orange and purple and pink and grey and brown and everything in between

connect my freckles like dots in Sharpie and

kiss my milk mustache away

be my windows and break with me and I’ll love you

I’m all the apples you don’t pick on the trees you say goodbye to

bite into me and tell me I taste like nothing you’ve ever had before

make pies and ice cream and smoothies with me

and mix me in with your grapes and bananas and sprinkles

and put me in cereal mix and break my skin with your teeth

cut me up into pieces and eat them one by one

let my sweetness tingle on your tongue

be my tree and grow with me and I’ll love you

love me even when I’ve left for the last time

love me when it’s warm and I’m the sun

love me when I’m with you and you want me to always be that way

“Veronica says this is what soulmates is,” Betty whispers, more to herself than anyone, but Jughead hears her anyway and answers with a shrug.

“Soulmates are poetry, I guess,” he says, and Betty watches him with wide eyes, him and his hand on his left sleeve. He smiles warmly at her.

“Poetry is you,” he says, soft and quiet, and she knows he means it.

my love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

everyone looked worse in the light

I am poetry.

I am poetry.

Soulmates mean poetry and I am Jughead’s poetry.

She thinks it until she forgets how to pronounce the word poetry. She stares up at the sky, lying in the grass in the middle of the football field, and she thinks, I am poetry.

She’s not. She can’t be. Not with Archie Andrews on her arm and someone else on his.

Then again, here comes her soulmate now, and she doesn’t see stanzas and verses and lines when she looks at him.

Archie smiles as he lies down next to her, their shoulders pressed together.

“Whatcha looking at?” He says. “Whatcha thinking?”

If he were Veronica, Betty would take his hand. Instead, because he’s him, she says, “Stars. Soulmates.”

Archie hums.

“Wrong or right?”

Betty doesn’t answer. She hardly hears him at all.

“Jughead says I’m his soulmate.”

Archie’s silent. She waits for him to say something, but he never does. He just lies there, quiet and still, and finally she looks over at him, mouth open to ask if he’s okay.

There are tears on his cheeks, falling like mini waterfalls to the ground. His face is shining from the droplets, eyes staring straight up at the sky and lips pursed and quivering.

She takes his hand, then.

“Archie?” She whispers. “You okay?”

He swallows. She watches his Adam’s apple bob. He pulls his hand away and sits up, smiling down at her sadly.

“Yeah. Sometimes the universe is just wrong, huh?”

She smiles weakly and nods, not sure if he’s trying to make a joke. He looks at her for a minute more, then pulls his eyes away and stands up.

“See you later, Betty,” he murmurs, and then he’s gone and she’s staring at the sky again, thinking about Veronica and Jughead and I am poetry, I am poetry, I am poetry.

there are so many lines that I’ve crossed, unforgiven

I’ll tell you truth, but never goodbye

Veronica comes around eleven to take her home. The drive is silent, with Betty staring out the window and Veronica glancing over at her every now and then.

“You okay?” Veronica finally asks, tentative, and Betty shrugs.

“Jughead says soulmates are poetry,” she whispers. “Jughead says I’m poetry.”

Veronica’s hands tighten on the wheel, her knuckles turning white.

“Did he?”

Betty nods distractedly.

“Yeah. But I think he’s wrong.”

“What?”

Veronica’s voice is sharp, high, angry, and when Betty looks over at her, her jaw is set and her eyes are dark.

“Poetry is you,” Betty says. “Poetry feels like you.”

Veronica’s lips part in surprise, eyes saddening, and she stops as the light turns red and just sits there, silent.

Betty reaches for her hand.

“Look, Ronnie, I love Jughead, so much, but poetry has to be you because -”

“No,” Veronica bites out, eyes cold and steely as they cut into Betty and Veronica slaps her hand away. “No. Poetry is Archie and poetry is love and poetry is all the things you don’t know.”

Betty recoils, holding her hand to her chest as Veronica hits the gas again.

“But you and me, an-and Jughead -”

“Jughead isn’t supposed to be happy!” Veronica shouts, driving a little too fast down the empty street and turning the windshield wipers on when the drizzle turns to rain. “I’m not supposed to be happy! Jughead and I don’t get to be happy, Betty. That’s what being born with a one-way bond means . It means not smiling, and not laughing, and accepting that you never will.”

A tear falls down Veronica’s cheek as they pull up to Betty’s house.

“I’m no one’s poetry, Betty,” she whispers. “I’m never going to be.”

Betty reaches for her hand again, a last attempt.

“You’re mine, Vee -”

“Shut up,” Veronica rasps, eyes haunted and hand cold. She’s staring straight ahead into the black night and it feels like the end of something. “Shut up, Betty, and go inside.”

Betty does.

I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don’t wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

Betty trudges up the stairs and to her bedroom. Her mother’s already in bed, a note on Betty’s nightstand telling her to eat, but Betty doesn’t want to. Instead she walks blankly to the bed and collapses back onto it, staring up at the butterflies on her ceiling.

“Poetry,” she whispers, and laughs. “Fucking poetry.”

She stares until the rainbow butterflies start to blur together, and then she grits her teeth and stands up, rolling up her sleeves and heading to the window.

“Fucking soulmates ,” she hisses, reaching up to the top of the window to pull it shut.

She freezes.

Her arm is blank.

There’s no name in sight, no black scrawl, no Archie Andrews ruining her life and telling her how to love. Hands shaking, she lowers her arms and brushes her fingers across creamy tan skin and freckles.

“Holy shit,” she breathes. “Poetry.”

Then she smiles. And she laughs. And she jumps up and down and spins in a circle, tripping and falling backwards onto her bed.

“Poetry,” she whispers, hand clasping her wrist. “Poetry.”

I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night

and now I see daylight, I only see daylight

“Jughead,” Betty says breathlessly, grabbing his hand as soon as she drops into the booth across from him at Pop’s. “Jughead, I love you.”

Jughead’s eyes snap to her, hand stiff in hers.

“What?”

Betty grins, letting go of his hand to pull her sleeve up.

“Look. Look. I found it last night. It’s poetry, Jug, I’m poetry and I love -”

Jughead’s fingers dance delicately up her arm, hand gently holding her wrist. His eyes are wide in fascination and she smiles, pushing all thoughts of Veronica from her mind.

“Jughead,” she whispers. “Jughead, I love you.”

He looks up at her again, pulling his hands away. His mouth opens and closes, opens and closes, and she sees his fingers twitching at the hem of his left sleeve.

“Jug,” she says helplessly. “Jug, you said I’m poetry. Jughead, I, I love you -”

“Stop saying that,” he rasps. “Stop saying that. Only soulmates can say that.”

Betty reels back, clutching her wrist to her chest and feeling suddenly cold all over.

“But you said soulmates are poetry. And you said I’m poetry.”

Jughead’s eyes are scared when they meet hers. Scared and sad and drained of happiness.

“You can’t be, Betty,” he says, voice hoarse. “We’re not…”

“We’re not what?” She asks shrilly, halfway out of her seat. “We’re not soulmates? Because newsflash, Jug, that’s never stopped you before.”

Jughead’s mouth opens and closes again.

“I…”

All the air rushes out of her lungs with the realization.

“You don’t love me,” she rasps, dropping back down in her seat with a thump. “After all this time, you don’t love me. It doesn’t matter what I do, I’m not your soulmate. I’m not your best friend.”

Jughead flinches.

“Betty -”

“No,” she says. “Shut up. I mean, really? I’m not good enough? Me? Me ?”

She’s up again, swatting his hands away when he reaches for her.

“I know I’m not your goddamn soulmate, Jughead, but it’s not like they’re ever going to love you. I mean, that’s why you’re here, right? With the girl who always comes second best to some stranger who has never loved you and never will.”

Jughead has curled in on himself, lips trembling as he stares up at her with heartbreak in his eyes, knuckles white around his wrist, but she doesn’t stop.

“You’re just some freak who doesn’t want sex,” she hisses. “You’re just some freak that no one could ever love.”

With that she leaves, not looking back once. Not even to see if he’s crying.

She decides she doesn’t care if he is.

luck of the draw only draws the unlucky

and so I became the butt of the joke

As soon as Betty gets home she storms up the stairs and to her room, slamming the door behind her. She grabs the nearest thing (a handmirror) and throws it hard at the wall, reveling in the sound of it shattering.

Fuck soulmates. Fuck poetry. Fuck love and all it’s gotten her.

She falls face first on her bed and screams into her pillow. She wishes Veronica were here. She wishes Jughead were dead. She wishes she could’ve just fallen in love with Archie like she was supposed to.

She screams until her lungs give out and she has to turn on his side, breathing in the fresh cool wind from her open window. She stews in the quiet, muttering her three wishes over and over again and glaring at her curtains.

Then come the screams.

Wretched screams, wrecked screams, heartbroken screams, and they’re not hers. They sound like someone has ripped whoever it is’ heart out and torn it into a million tiny shreds of muscle and tissue.

She stands up and walks over to the window, pulling the curtains back.

There, in Archie’s bedroom, is Jughead, screaming and sobbing and shaking. He’s on his knees, rocking back and forth with Archie’s arms around him, hands grasping at Archie’s arms and eyes bleeding tears.

Betty feels her mouth open in shock, tears springing to her own eyes are she lifts her hands to her mouth to stifle a choked sob. God, what has she done.

She picks up her phone with trembling hands, dialing Veronica’s number.

“Ronnie?” She whispers. “Ronnie, I’m sorry. I fucked up. Come - come over, please. Please .”

She hangs up before Veronica can answer, turning back towards the window to shut it, and freezes.

Archie’s eyes bore into hers, cold and unforgiving, and she feels her entire body be sucked of warmth righ then and there, chilled to the bone.

Archie mouths something at her, something she can’t quite make out, and that’s when she shuts the window hard and fast and scrambles back to her bed, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly to her chest as she presses her back against the wall.

Whatever Archie said, she knows it wasn’t very kind.

I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked

clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke

When Veronica pushes open the door to Betty’s bedroom, saying her name softly in greeting, Betty throws herself into Veronica’s arms and holds on tight.

“I ruined everything,” she cries. “I said so many horrible things. I broke Jughead, Ronnie, I broke my poetry -”

Veronica shushes her, carding her fingers through Betty’s hair and slowly lowering the both of them to the floor.

“What happened?” She whispers. “What happened, Betty?”

Betty takes a deep, shuddery breath, pushing closer to Veronica, and whispers her sins.

“I told him he was a freak. I told him his soulmate would never love him. I told him no one would ever love him.”

Veronica sucks in a breath.

“Jesus Christ, Betty,” she rasps. “God, you - he’s not a freak. And of course someone will love him. Someone already does.”

Betty squeezes her eyes shut but the tears slip past anyway.

“Me,” she whispers. “I love him.”

Veronica shakes her head, kissing the top of Betty’s own.

“Someone else,” she murmurs. “Someone else, someone who doesn’t think I’m poetry.”

Betty looks up at her, eyes wide and wet, and Veronica smiles sadly.

“Soulmates don’t just mean the name on your arm,” she says quietly. “But they don’t mean whatever you and Jughead are.”

“How do you know?” Betty whispers.

Veronica takes Betty’s face in her hands and smiles.

“Because I know his soulmate,” she murmurs. “And I know yours, and I know love.”

And with that, Veronica licks her lips, leans down, and kisses her.

maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down

maybe I’ve stormed out of every single room in this town

Poetry is soulmates.

Poetry is love.

Poetry is Veronica.

Betty knows this now, clearer than ever, and she also knows that she’s broken someone who’s already been broken too many times before, someone who will never know poetry.

So she tries to find him.

She can’t just leave things the way they are. She can’t let those horrible words be the last thing she ever says to him. She needs him to know, needs him to know that she’s sorry and she misses him and she loves him, loves him like the best friend that she never deserved to kiss.

For days, she looks, and for days, she comes up empty, because Archie never leaves Jughead’s side. They’re always close, always touching, a hand on the shoulder or the arm or the cheek. Sometimes Archie will say something, and Jughead will smile, but it never reaches his eyes.

Whenever Archie sees her watching them, he wraps an arm around Jughead and pulls him away, never forgetting to glare at Betty over his shoulder. It always feels just as cold and furious as the first time, and Betty sometimes feels like she’s drowning - in Veronica’s kisses, in Jughead’s hurt, in Archie’s eyes.

She tries writing letters. She tries texting. She even tries calling, and one desperate night she yells out her window, but every time Jughead ignores her. He just keeps walking, keeps writing, keeps talking to Archie as if he doesn’t even know she exists.

Betty gives up two weeks later. She keeps herself locked in her room and declines Veronica’s calls and stares out her window, watching Jughead leave her behind.

threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it’s morning now

it’s brighter now, now

One night, the power goes out. Everyone else is sleeping, including Archie and Jughead next door, but Betty’s still up thinking.

She lights the vanilla candle on her nightstand and gets out of bed, sitting down with her back against its side and her knees pulled to her chest. She picks up the notebook from on top of her bedside pile of books and fumbles for a pen from under the bed, and she opens the notebook to a blank page.

I am poetry and love

I am Veronica’s and Jughead’s

I am Archie’s and no one’s

I am Betty and nothing

She pauses, closing her eyes and scrawling out the last bit blind.

I am poetry and love and I am soulmateless.

I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I can never look away

Betty wanders over to Archie’s in her pajamas at three.

The sidewalks are hard to see in the dark, and it’s so silent she can hear the crickets chirp. It’s cold. She’s cold.

She walks up Archie’s steps and stands in front of the door for two whole minutes before pulling out her phone and texting the redhead.

I’m outside.

She thinks about asking nicely, but his answer will be the same either way.

A minute that feels like an eternity later, Archie comes out in his pj pants and t-shirt, barefoot on the welcome mat. He closes the door behind him and shoves his hands in his pockets, scuffing his socked toes against the ground.

“What do you want?” He says quietly. Betty’s eyes tear up as she realizes it’s the first time he’s said anything to her in weeks.

“I need to see him,” she whispers. “I need to say sorry.”

Archie shrugs.

“You can’t.”

She sighs, digging her nails into her arms.

“Please.”

Archie looks up from his feet and meets her eyes.

“No.”

Betty starts crying. She can’t help it, not after everything, not after losing the boy she loves and her soulmate and her poetry all at once.

“Archie,” she sobs. “Archie, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head.

“You didn’t -”

“I didn’t choose you,” she cries. “I should’ve chosen you.”

Archie’s eyes go cold.

“What?”

His voice is tight, the word hissed through gritted teeth, and Betty whimpers, curling in on herself.

“I should’ve chosen you,” she blubbers. “Then this would all be so much easier, I -”

“So what? Are you seriously saying that Jughead isn’t worth it? That you actually meant all of that shit you said to him?”

Archie is seething, leaning forward and gesturing wildly with his hands, and Betty stops crying to look up at him, lip quivering.

“No. No, I just. You love me, and I love him, and I’m sorry.”

Archie deflates, pulling back into himself. He looks away and leans against the wall, hands in his pockets.

“That’s not it.”

It’s so quiet she almost doesn’t hear it. Her jaw drops, eyes watery and knees wobbly.

“But you always seem so sad. And you hate looking at us together, and you were crying that day you found out and -”

“It’s not you!”

Betty reels back as if slapped.

Hands tangled together on the console.

Archie sighs, running a hand through his hair. His eyes are glistening with tears when they meet hers.

“God, Betty, you really don’t get it, do you? Do you really think I’d give up my soulmate that easily if I really wanted the name on my arm?”

She shakes her head in confusion, clutching her hands to her chest.

Dancing together to love songs.

“But you -”

Archie smiles at her, the expression melancholy and resigned.

“It was never you I wanted.”

Laughing and smiling and left sleeves and crying and singing and letterman jackets and crown beanies and asexuality and hugging and soulmates and love and.

“Oh.”

Archie laughs humorlessly, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah. Oh.”

Poetry.

I don’t wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

things will never be the same

Betty doesn’t go back home. Instead she calls Veronica and the raven-haired girl meets her at Pop’s just as the clock strikes four.

“Christ, Betty,” Veronica murmurs when she sees her, pulling her into a hug. “Did you walk all the way here?”

Betty nods, teeth chattering despite the blue sweatshirt and long sleeve shirt she’s wearing. Veronica pulls away with a smile, squeezing Betty’s hand and kissing the corner of her mouth before they both slide into opposite sides of the booth.

“What’s going on?” Veronica asks, gentle and soft. Betty doesn’t look up from the table, eyes calm and angry.

“Did you know?”

Her voice is cutting, sharp, and Veronica’s brow furrows.

“Know what? Betty, what’s -”

“Did. You. Know.”

Veronica sighs, reaching across the table and taking Betty’s cold hands in hers.

“Know what, Betty?”

Betty raises her eyes to meet Veronica’s, lips pursed.

“Did you know that Archie is in love with Jughead?”

Veronica’s lips part and her grip on Betty’s hands slackens. She blinks.

Then she sighs, suddenly sounding very tired.

“Of course I knew, Betty. We broke up weeks ago, because I couldn’t get over you and he can’t stop loving Jughead.”

Betty sets her jaw.

“Does Jughead know?”

Veronica shakes her head.

“No. God no, never.”

Betty nods, slowly. She ponders this, then says, “Why didn’t you tell him?”

Veronica shrugs, sighing again.

“I don’t know. Because he loves you and you’re his poetry.”

Betty shakes her head, feeling anger bubble in her gut.

“He doesn’t love me. He never loved me. And his fucking poetry is his fucking soulmate, who broke his fucking heart but is still more fucking important than me.”

Veronica smiles sadly, squeezing Betty’s hands.

“I’m sorry.”

Betty raises an eyebrow.

“That’s it? You’re sorry?”

Veronica smiles and shrugs.

“Yeah. I’m sorry he doesn’t love you. I’m sorry Archie loves him. I’m sorry I love you. I’m sorry you love whoever you decide you love.”

Betty looks down at her lap, focusing on the warm feeling of Veronica’s fingers curled around hers.

“Why?”

Veronica shrugs again, licking her lips.

“Because no one else is apologizing.”

I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night

now I’m wide awake

and now I see daylight

In loving Jughead, and in loving Veronica, Betty has learned a few things.

One, soulmates mean more than the name on your arm.

Two, soulmates mean poetry.

Three, Betty doesn’t have a name on her arm and Betty doesn’t have an ounce of poetry in her.

So when she wakes up on Monday, she decides that she is going to talk to Jughead. And she is going to say sorry for all she did and all she said, from the sex to the words to the love. Because she is sorry, down to her bones, and she decides, on Monday, that he deserves to know.

and I can still see it all in my mind

all of you, all of me intertwined

I once believed love would be black and white but it’s golden

She finds him in the student lounge after last period. She tried to go during lunch, but Archie was with him.

He’s writing in his journal, so wrapped up in his words that he doesn’t notice her until she’s standing right next to him.

“I’m sorry,” she says, as softly and as sincerely as she can, and he startles and looks up at her with stormy eyes.

“Save it,” he growls, shutting his journal with a snap and standing up to leave. She grabs him by the arm in desperation, tugging on his sleeve.

“Jughead, I’m sorry!”

He doesn’t turn around and she sighs, feeling the tears start to brim.

“You’re not a freak. You’re amazing, and wonderful, and I’m sorry -”

He rolls his eyes and starts forward again but she holds onto his sleeve for dear life.

“Jughead -”

“Let go.”

His voice is angry, intimidating, but she knows him well enough to hear the underlying panic in it.

“Jughead?”

“Let. Go,” he grits out, and she looks down and sees her fingers fisted in his left sleeve.

She sighs.

“Jughead -”

“God, just let go, would you?!” Jughead shouts, tearing his arm away from her, but she’s holding on too tight and he’s pulling too hard and his sleeve is tugged up just enough to reveal the name she’s been wondering about since they met.

Archie Andrews.

She gasps, hands coming up to her mouth, and Jughead crumples to his knees, holding his wrist in his lap. He keeps shaking his head, laughing hollowly to himself.

Her voice is hoarse when she finally manages to speak.

“Archie is your soulmate?”

He looks up, dark eyes glistening with tears and a humorless smirk on his pale face.

“Yes. Yes, okay?” He laughs, somewhat hysterically. “That’s my terrible secret.”

He smiles wryly at her.

“Some poetry, huh?”

Betty smiles despite herself, sympathetic and fond, and kneels down beside him, wrapping her arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. He sniffs and then laughs wetly, hands shaking as they press against her back.

“It’s okay.”

She shakes her head.

“It’s not.”

She pulls away and he shrugs, offering her a smile.

“I forgive you anyway.”

She smiles and takes his hand, squeezing it. She licks her chapped lips, eyes on the ground, and then looks back up at him with a soft smile.

“Also, about Archie?”

He glares at her, but its effect is diminished by the tear tracks and sallow cheeks.

“Don’t, okay.”

She grins, squeezing his hand again.

“Nothing after this, I promise. It’s just that, I was talking to Archie the other night and I don’t think it’s as hopeless as you think.”

His eyes widen, hope shining in them, and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, this moment is worth everything that led up to it.

and I can still see it all in my head

back and forth from new york, sneaking in your bed

I once believed love would be burning red but it’s golden

As soon as Betty gets home, she heads for her bedroom and her window. She pulls the curtain aside just enough to see into Archie’s room and leans against the side of the window to wait.

Five minutes later, Jughead bursts into the room, Archie jumping in surprise and dropping his guitar on the ground with a thud. He blinks, and starts to lean down to pick it up when Jughead thrusts out his left arm and pulls up his sleeve.

Archie freezes.

Jughead’s breathing hard, having probably run all the way here. Archie’s staring at his name on Jughead’s arm, mouth opening and closing, and then Jughead whispers something.

Archie shoots up off the bed and over to Jughead, pulling up his own sleeve as he goes.He grasps Jughead’s left wrist and keeps his eyes on Jughead’s face as his best friend traces his shaking fingers over Archie’s arm.

Archie says something, soft and quiet, and Jughead looks up at him, lips parted in surprise. Then he grins, wide and toothy, and Archie laughs and cups Jughead’s face in his hands, kissing him.

Betty smiles and closes her curtains.

I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I can never look away

“Hey.”

Betty grins and closes her locker, turning to Jughead and Archie who are holding hands and smiling like it’s Christmas. She raises her eyebrows, biting her lip.

“So?” She asks. Jughead laughs, ducking his head with a blush, and lifts his and Archie’s hands.

Jughead’s wearing short sleeves, she suddenly notices. Archie Andrews is etched clear and bold on his skin, out for everyone to see like he’s proud of it for the first time in his life. Betty smiles, happy for him.

Then her eyes flick down to Archie’s left arm, where the name Jughead Jones rests in place of Betty Cooper .

Her smile widens to a grin.

“When did that happen?” She whispers in wonder, and Archie shrugs, blushing as Jughead looks up at him with twinkling eyes.

“The day after I met you,” he says, voice all soft and dreamy. “I was hanging out with Jug in our bedroom and my arm started burning, and there it was.”

Betty smiles, thinking of her own blank arm and the way Veronica had traced her fingers over it in awe when she first saw it.

“Lucky, huh?” She whispers.

Archie looks down and meets Jughead’s eyes, the two of them just smiling happily at each other. Archie’s voice is a murmur, full of love and amazement and poetry.

“Yeah,” he says. “Lucky as hell.”

I don’t wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

things will never be the same

When Veronica bursts through the doors of Pop’s, eyes wild and frantic, Betty smiles. When Veronica catches sight of her and smiles back, heading over to sit across from her, Betty’s smile widens to a grin.

“Hey, so -”

Betty reaches out and grasps both of Veronica’s hands in hers, making Veronica pause in surprise. Betty beams.

“Go out with me.”

Veronica’s eyes widen.

“Wh-what?”

Betty leans forward in her seat.

“Go out with me.”

Veronica blushes.

“Wh-why?” She whispers. “What -”

“Because you’re my poetry, Veronica,” Betty says, gently pushing Veronica’s sleeve up to her elbow to reveal Betty Cooper . “And I’m yours.”

I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night

now I’m wide awake

and now I see daylight

Betty used to wonder why the universe ties people together the way that it does. Why it makes it so easy to find your other half, and why people try to make it harder for no reason. Why people fall in love with the wrong people at all, because there’s a name on their arms telling them how to live their lives, how to love.

Betty thinks, now, that Veronica is probably right. That soulmates are probably more about the way you smile at someone, and the way their hand feels in yours, and the way they follow you into the dark and drag you out when you wander in too deep.

Betty thinks, maybe, that soulmates don’t mean her and Jughead. They don’t mean Veronica and Archie, and they don’t mean Betty and Archie.

Soulmates mean Archie and Jughead, and Veronica and Betty mean love, and maybe friendship means all four of them, but even so, they’re so much smaller than they think they are. Just specks of dust floating around a giant attic in a giant house that nobody lives in, and they all think they’re the center of the world though they never have been.

Soulmates mean waking up looking into Veronica’s eyes and kissing her smile. Soulmates mean the way Archie and Jughead can talk without talking. Soulmates mean laughing in a booth at Pop’s over nothing at all. Soulmates mean poetry.

Soulmates mean them, and they mean love.