I’m back writing your prompts, yay! My writer’s block is gone for good finaly so here is another one-shot! I really liked writing this one, having Jughead the one losing his perpetual composed self. I hope you will all enjoy it too!
(P.S. I’m not ignoring your older prompts, I was just craving to write this after last episode and Jughead’s pain, which I’ll never get over. Don’t worry, darlings, I’ll write all your prompts during this hiatus to help all of us deal with all those beautiful Bughead feels! <3)
The glass doors of Riverdale’s General Hospital closed with a light swoosh behind a rushing Betty Cooper, her messy bun bouncing vigorously with every urgent step her white sneakers took. With her white pajama t-shirt still under her maroon grid bomber jacket and a pair of grey yoga pants – the girl minutes away from dozing off to a dreamless slumber just before her phone disrupted the calmness of her room – she anxiously jogged down the quiet corridor, due to the hour, and stopped abruptly in front of the reception, the elder head nurse shooting her an exhausted glare.
“I’m looking for Forsythe Pendleton Jones.” Her voice came out with difficulty, Betty now registering how out of breath she was, probably by the fact that her house was at the other side of town and she had chosen to walk, or most correctly run, all the way to the hospital.