the other boys ⇨ jarchie

8

jughead.

"let's run away. let's forget about school, about our lives. everything, please," the redhead begs.

the raven hue scratches his head skeptically, wondering what the consequences would be. "i don't know... it seems a little too much for us. we're only 14."

archie pauses, his lips twitching in frustration. "there comes a time in every friendship when one of us says, i need you to do this with me. and this is one of those times, you wild thing."

jughead sighs. "ok! ok. fine. but don't blame me when you miss your dad, or you've got no signal on your phone."

"ok. let's go on a trip!"

he called me a wild thing. i laughed. he had no idea. my veins run like the streams of the earth, my eyes the colour of the waves that crashed upon rocks. my hair tangled like vines, knotted by the salt of the sea. my feet covered in morning dew from the fields. my hands streaked with dirt and scratched by thorns - driven by the need to get away from the problems of life. my skin was golden, kissed by the rays of the sun. the universe clothed me. and archie was right, i was a wild thing. that seemed like a day ago: when we lay under the stars, tummies full of chocolate and the flames of the campfire crackling nearby. the smell of nutmeg and pine, strong in the air like a blanket of herbs and botanical mysteries. it was fantastic, two days of my life that i will never forget.

and now, as i stare into archie's sleeping face, i see his freckles, aligned like constellations on his baby face. his eyes are closed, but behind them are brown wonders. you see, archie's eyes weren't just brown - they were honey and coffee and drops of hazel, those colours all mixing into beautiful orbs. his hair wasn't just ginger, it was strawberry blonde and amber and tan, sticking up childishly in some places. his lips... his lips are capable of so many things. when they move, they create a melody.

oh my god. am i in love with archie andrews?

fuck.

the ginger boy stirs, whimpering a bit in his sleep. his eyes slowly peel open, and he beams. "you look better without your beanie on."

i smile. "really?"

"i mean, yea. no homo though."

i chuckle slightly, shaking my head. "yea, no homo."

  we hesitate.

"fuck it, all of the homo. my masculinity isn't fragile," archie replies, putting his hands behind his head.

i swallow. "do you...?"

"what?" archie asks.

does he like me? is that why he wouldn't tell me when i went over to his house? or does he like veronica?

"are you... gay?"

archie sits up slightly, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "no, yes, i mean... i don't know. i like girls but i've seen plenty of beautiful boys in my life."

i shrug, my dark grey sweater moving with me. "huh."

"can i go back to sleep now?" archie whispers.