Summary: Your boyfriend Jughead got into a fight with his dad and needed someone to talk him out of his rage.
Note: Slightly nsfw?
“All was well,” you read before closing the final Harry Potter book. You sighed and put it on your nightstand before sinking back into bed.
Friday night and you were home alone. Even your parents went out for a date night. But your boyfriend was going to have dinner with his father, who’s not really that active in his life. You definitely understood why he wanted to meet with him so you encouraged him to go. You just wished that you had made other plans instead of staying home alone, stewing in your loneliness. Normally you’re out at Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe, at the library, or just wandering around town. But because Jason’s killer was still on the loose, your parents strongly objected to your late-night walks.
You got out of bed and checked your phone for a message from Jughead. Nothing. Bored, you scrolled through your old messages with him and laughed when you came across a photo of him sleeping with a Snapchat filter on his face. This time he was wearing the flower crown but you had plenty others of him with different, more feminine filters. He teased you about it when he woke up and saw the evidence but you told him if he stopped falling asleep while you were watching movies, he wouldn’t end up with his face on a meerkat.
A smile spread across your lips but your stomach sank a little. You’ve only been without him for a few hours but you already missed him. Is this normal for a high school senior to feel this way about a boy? Isn’t that kind of feeling supposed to be for adults, who are ready to spend the rest of their lives with one person?
Just as you turned on your David Bowie playlist with plans of curling back up in bed, you heard a tapping on your window. You looked over and saw Jughead, looking angry and disheveled.
“Jughead?” You asked, surprised to see him. Quickly you opened the window and made way for him to climb in your bedroom. One of the great perks about having a first floor bedroom is having first floor windows so your boyfriend could sneak in easily. No ladders involved.
“What are you doing here?” You asked.
He wouldn’t look at you. His hands were in his pockets, his head was bowed down. “I’m so sick of him,” he replied.