You return from being out of state for college, ready to admit your love for your childhood best friend, Jughead. Little do you know, he has things to admit of his own.
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You awoke to a lovingly annoying Jughead jumping on you like a little boy on Christmas morning.
"Wake up," he whined.
You groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking him in the face. "Where's the snooze button...."
Jughead flopped down next to you. "There's no time for a snooze button, (Y/N)! It's my last day as a free man." He paused. "I say that jokingly of course, in total recognition of the concept's misogyny."
You sat up. "Crap. You're right."
Jughead raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
You laughed off your nervousness and dread. "...you're right, Jughead. We have to make this the best day ever!" You said halfheartedly. You jumped out of bed, Jughead following eagerly after you. "...after I get ready." You slammed the bathroom door in his face with a smug grin.
After shutting the door, you slowly slid to the floor, hiding your face in your hands.
"Crap. He's right."
It was officially one day until Jughead Jones III and Elizabeth Cooper would be legally married until death do them part.
And you still hadn't told him you were in love with him.
I mean, it isn't that bad, right? You padded back and forth on the cold tile, rigorously scrubbing your teeth.
Well, it was pretty bad....
I have plenty of time! You threw your hair into a pony tail, immediately hating it and undoing it into your usual, messy 'do.
You have less than twenty-four hours.
I'm going to tell him. You finished up your makeup and put on your outfit for the day, grinning with confidence.
Well if the past five years are any indication....
You deflated. Whatever. You took a deep breath, preparing you for the last day with Jughead as you knew it, and opened the door.
Jughead chuckled. "I thought you died or something."
You raised an eyebrow. "Or something."
You paused, surveying the kitchen. Pancakes, bacon (crispy, but not burnt), eggs, milk, and orange juice sat on one side of the kitchen table, opposite Jughead. But you just woke up.
"You... cooked?" You asked, repressing a snort of disbelief.
"Some people cook, I make magic," Jughead said in an exaggerated French accent. At your lack of response, he continued, "I've seen you make this meal enough times to know how to do it, genius."
"Ah," you nodded, sitting down across from him. "Well, that's sweet, Jughead. Thank you."
"I'm really proud of these pancakes, honestly," Jughead said. He snatched the fork and knife from your side of the table, cutting piece and holding the fork out to you.
