Riverdale Smut and Fluff

Mob Sweet pea (angst) part 2

Silence, the sound of nothing at all, could sometimes be the loudest thing in the world. Silence is an invisible giant, deep and vast; sometimes welcome and sometimes feared. Silence was something both you and Sweet Pea knew well and were accustomed to. You had lived alone for years in a small, one bedroom apartment that you had filled with things you liked. You had plenty of friends who would come over for dinner or for drinks, plenty of friends who would fill up your silence with laughter and stories; but it had been silent since your ex-boyfriend of three years had left you for someone he worked with, even though before that it had still been a consuming quiet as you drifted away from one another.

You always welcomed the silence because it had always been there.

Sweet Pea- surprising enough- had always been afraid of the silence ever since he was a child; his house would be dark and empty, an easy place for the shadows- both literally and metaphorically- to creep in and wrap their hands around everything in sight, including the small, dark haired little boy Sweet Pea used to be. His parents, on the rare occasion they came home, would yell and fight each other- making the house shake around them with words and actions. In Sweet Pea's mind that was better than the silence because at least someone was their with him, even if they didn't want to be; it was better than being alone.

When Sweet Pea turned 18 he took all the money he had saved from odd jobs and left- he never looked back, he never regretted it, and he tried to never think of that place or those people again. He already had a job with the Serpents and slowly, over time, become one of its most feared and respected members. Now, he ran the whole thing- he wasn't a part of the Mafia anymore, he was the Mafia. Sweet Pea had tried to fill the void in him that Silence had dug with work and other gang members, with smoking and drinking and fighting, and it worked well enough. Sweet Pea didn't know how he could have been content with any of it after he met her.

Darcy.

"What kind of a name is 'Sweet Pea' anyways?"

"You're not even half as scary as you pretend to be, honey."

"Just you wait, you're gonna love me."

"You can't fool me, Pea. I can see right through you."

"I'm staying for as long as you want me, babe."

"No, Pea, don't look at me."

"Close your eyes, baby. Don't look."

She was a singer that desperately wanted to be a writer when he met her. Sweet Pea had been at a shitty little bar- the same one he met you at- when all of a sudden the hard, foot tapping notes of the White Stripes "Seven Nation Army" started playing, and Darcy's voice was filling up the room. Everyone noticed her, everyone loved her, and everyone- including Sweet Pea- knew that the universe itself would stop turning just to watch her. Darcy was a small whirlwind of curly red hair and cerulean blue eyes, she had a sweet voice that grabbed your attention and held it, and a smile that told you 'yes, I really care.'

You reminded Sweet Pea of Darcy, but he had realized that you two were nothing alike, and come to care for you all the same. True, you both held some of the same traits. You both were passionate and poured care into everything you did, even the smallest of tasks. You both could light up a room with just your presence. Where Darcy was a loud beauty, you were somewhat quieter but still captivating. Neither one of you had to look too deep into something to find it's wonder because you knew it was there.

When Darcy left- when Sweet Pea's actions and job took her away from him- Sweet Pea was once again plunged into silence. His house no longer held the echoes of Darcy's lovely voice or song-like laughter, there was no happiness or comfort for Sweet Pea because her shoe's no longer sat by the front door; her sweater wasn't hung on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, no sounds of her bare feet padding across his wood floors in his direction to welcome him back. Sweet Pea had all of Darcy's things banished from his house because he couldn't bare to see the books she loved but would never read again, or look at the blue and white couch pillows she had picked out because they matched his curtains; he tried to erase her because he could never hold her, never love her, again and all of it was just a reminder.