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Summary
Archie sits on his bed with his guitar for the first time since he was fifteen, tired of using his hands, his mind, his open bleeding heart to wound, to fight, to hurt. He misses the gentle joy of creating, of shaping sounds into chords into bars into songs. As he plucks the strings, idly, snatches of tune here and there, nothing concrete, the faces of all the boys he’s loved and could never tell flit through his mind.
Series
- Part 2 of Riverdale Song Fics
