A/N: hiya, yes I'm back. Enjoy this part 2 that has been requested a lot and keep an eye out for my new book and another jealousy update! Much love!
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Jughead opened his eyes slowly, the sweet release of sleep escaping him as the pain he had been feeling the past few days settled back in. He wanted to go back to sleep, to evade the heartache a little longer, but time was not on his side today, the alarm was telling him it was time to get up.
He shut off the alarm on his phone, and his room fell into silence as he stared up at his ceiling. After a few moments, he willed himself out of bed, and he trudged off to the kitchen to make coffee. He started the machine, the sound of water boiling and the wind outside the only sounds bringing the kitchen to life. He opened the cupboard, blindly pulling out a mug and he placed it on the counter, only then catching a glimpse of it.
His heart dropped at the sight of it, and he picked it back up, the cermamic cup cold against his hand. This was her favourite mug, and she had left it at his trailer after her many nights she spent over. It was (your/favourite/colour) with a shiny gold rim and gold calligraphy on the side that read 'Sip Happens'. Every morning they spent together, she would jump up on the counter to sit, and she'd usually accidentally knock something over in the process. The sugar, maybe the milk, a glass, whatever it was, she would giggle every time it happened and say 'Sip Happens' and take a drink out of her mug.
It was stupid and punny and overdone, but it never failed to make Jughead laugh. It was a weird tradition he looked forward to on their mornings, it started off his day in the worst but best way possible. The memory of those mornings stung in his chest, a physical pain that drove him insane. He could swear it was his heart breaking, actually breaking, but there was nothing that could be done about it now.
The coffee machine beeped, startling Jughead, and in the moment he let go of the cup, and before he could catch it he watched as it crashed to the ground. He stared down at the shards of (your/favourite/colour) and gold on the floor, unsure what to do. It was broken, he had shattered it, just like he had done his own heart, just like he had done to his and Y/Ns relationship.
Anger bubbled up, quickly replacing the sadness he was feeling just seconds before, and in a fit of rage he kicked shards of the mug around the small kitchen area. They cut into his foot before they slid across the ground, the physical pain quickly bringing him down from his outburst, and now not only did he have to spend his morning picking up ceramic shards off the ground, but now his own blood too, which was always a plus.
He quickly pulled the first aid kit off the top of the kitchen down and addressed the small cuts on his feet, carefully making his way to his room to put socks on over the bandages. Then he swept up the broken mug and wiped blood clean from the floor. By the time that was all over, he no longer had time for coffee, it was time for him to get to school.
