Alphabet ≫ Jarchie

E is for Enunciate

Enunciate— express or state clearly

☀︎☁︎☀︎

"That's what I want for my birthday!" Jughead said happily.

It was a simple request, really, but Archie couldn't bring himself to fulfill it. He frowned and shook his head at his best friend.

"Why not?" Jughead whined.

Archie shook his head again and turned his attention to the TV in front of him. They were playing video games in his room. Jughead was sprawled out across the bed, his legs hanging off the sides, and Archie was sat peacefully on the carpet, criss-cross applesauce. Jughead ended up pausing the game in the middle after he was about to lose, as usual, and began talking the redhead's head off, as usual. Archie didn't mind though.

"I just don't see why you won't do it for me. We've been friends forever," Jughead mumbled. That was true. They clung to each other, always attached at the hip. Archie didn't go anywhere without Jughead and Jughead didn't go anywhere without Archie. Even when Jughead went on dates with, in Archie's opinion, skanky over privileged bitches, Archie was always there in the background pretending to mind his own business. He never did.

Archie thought Jughead's statement through, but still didn't respond. He grabbed the controller instead and waved it in the air. Jughead got the message and unpaused the game with a sigh. They spent the next hour racing at Mario-kart—Jughead lost seven times—before the raven haired boy yawned and checked the time. It was past 9 and he had to get home.

"I'll see you tomorrow okay? And I know you said no about what I asked but it would really make my day," Jughead said hopefully as he sat up in the bed.

Archie locked eyes with the boy and he immediately regretted it. Jughead looked so desperate and hopeful. It pained him that he couldn't do one simple thing for him. It wasn't even because he couldn't, it was because he didn't want to. He bit his lip in contemplation before getting up and sitting down next to the boy on the bed. There was a lot he wanted to say to him but just couldn't. He found himself wishing that the silence between them could say what words couldn't, but it never did.

"Whenever you know I'm going to be disappointed you do that thing where you sit closer and try to comfort me like how you're doing right now," Jughead said lightly, playfully nudging him with his shoulder.

Archie copied the motion and shrugged. If Jughead thought he was going to get what he wanted for his birthday, he was setting himself up for failure. He hated seeing him defeated like that. His face got all pouty and then he got all annoying and whiny. Guess who had to listen to that?

"We'll talk tomorrow," Jughead announced as he stood up.

Archie rolled his eyes at his choice of words.

The taller boy waved goodbye and stepped out of his room with a sad smile.

That night, as Archie lied awake in his bed, his mind ran wild with all the words he wished would roll gracefully off his tongue. He wanted to tell Jughead everything. He wanted to give him what he wanted and more. He wanted to have the confidence to say that he liked him as way more than a friend. He wanted to tell him to break up with bitchy Betty and her fake nice girl attitude. He wanted to compliment him and tell him how beautiful he thought he was. He couldn't even bring himself to text it. It felt wrong somehow, like it needed to be said and not written. There was so much to say but Archie couldn't bring himself to say it, not even "Hi."