Iridescent - Jughead Jones [2]

Chapter One

IRIDESCENT

CHAPTER | ONE

She'd received a phone call that morning, the minutes ticking by as the day blended into a mess of tears and heartbreak. Two tragedies had occurred in the last twelve hours, two bodies in the hospital and one butting heads with death.

When Savannah had gotten home the night before, opening the front door and swinging into the living room with a wide smile, she'd met her brother's worried eyes and a vacant couch.

Cheryl Blossom had disappeared into the night – gone, without a word. Her crimson hair tousled by the light winter breeze as she, patiently, made her way back toward Thornhill. Her eyes glistening with embers as she struck a match and watched as the flames engulfed her childhood home.

"Mother tried to save me." She had told Savannah, her voice was steady and void of emotion. "She's in the hospital."

The red-haired girl gently laid her head on the brunette's shoulder, eyelashes fluttering as she closed her bright eyes.

Savannah let out a sigh, her sight set on the woman wrapped in bandages, the white fabric hiding what would be very harsh and vibrant scars.

Her mind strayed from Penelope Blossom as she thought of Jughead Jones, the boy who was in the same hospital, just a few doors down.

Her lips tingled as she thought of their kiss, of how he had smiled afterward, an uncharacteristic expression for the brooding Jones boy.

Then, just as quickly, the smile that spread across her own face, fell. With Jughead Jones came Archie Andrews.

The second tragedy that had befell them that night was that Fred Andrews, the single last soul that had been left untarnished by the darkness that surrounded Jason Blossom's death, had been shot by a hooded man.

Archie's hands had been covered in blood, coating the bed of his fingernails. Last she'd heard, Veronica had managed to convince him to go home and shower. Although, the situation must have changed, she guessed, as Veronica sat beside Josie near the vending machines.

"How is Archie?"

Jughead whirled around to see her gazing back at him, eyes soft and curious. Her hair had been scraped back into a messy ponytail and she had no makeup on - the telling signs of a tiresome night.

"As good as can be expected." Jughead told her, unable to stop himself from moving toward her. "How's Cheryl?"

"As good as can be expected." Savannah repeated his words back to him.

The boy smiled, and the girl attempted to commit the image to memory. Her hand sought his out, fingers interlacing with his own.

"Did you sleep?"

His question seemed so mundane, too ordinary for a situation like theirs. A life was hanging in the balance, and all she could think about was how he suited his hair messy, dark tufts sticking up in all directions.

"Barely." Savannah told him, glancing down at their joined fingers, her toes just a few inches away from his thick boots. "I came home and Cheryl had vanished, she wasn't answering her phone, I was worried."

Jughead nodded but didn't say anything.

They stood there, basking in the silence for a while, both extremely aware of their touching fingertips.