[the past] | completed

my beloved veronica// sliver of glass

   "Where is he?" asked Elena. They were at the Pembroke, Archie allowed them to stay after being completely horrified with what he had seen.

   "He's been in his room all day— sulking," Damon informed.

   "Well he has a right to," Caroline almost yelled. "Did you see how Veronica just broke his heart like that? As if it was no big deal? He said I love you, for god sakes. And she told him to kill himself. I can only imagine how broken he must be feeling right now," Caroline reminded them all. Damon stared at his empty bourbon glass with sad eyes.

   "But... Damon didn't you tell me Veronica said he had like—"

"A week or so to live? Yeah. And he does. And I don't know what to fuck to do." Damon stood up, throwing his empty glass onto the floor in anger. It shattered and both Elena and Caroline flinched.

"I'll be right back," Damon muttered, storming away.

"How is Jughead?" Elena once again asked Caroline.

"He's fucking horrible."

Jughead lay in his bedroom staring at the ceiling, unmoving.

He heard everything they were saying.

"If he only has a week left to live... what are we going to do with him?"

"What about Veronica? You don't think she..."

That's it, Jughead though. She must've turned her humanity off.

Jughead tirelessly hung on to the one string of hope with a tight grasp.

It's all he had left so he was relying on it.

Jughead got off of bed and walked over to his desk. He pulled out a piece of notebook paper and a pen. He began to scribble down a note.

Dear Veronica,

He quickly scribbled it and tossed the paper in the trash after crumpling it. After a few more tries, he decided just to be natural. Be the person she didn't know. The side of him she never knew and will never get to know.

My Beloved Veronica,
If I had the chance, I would spend the rest of my life telling you all the reasons you are the most amazing person in the world. But since the universe is against the both of us, I will never have that opportunity. So here it goes; I love you, Veronica. Your hair, your smile, your sarcasm, your attitude, your sass, your laugh, your tease, your kiss, your mind, your thoughtfulness, your light freckles that show only in the sunlight, your blush, your lips, your adorable little nose, your cute little ears, your sharp ass eyebrows, your light giggle, your perfection, you. I love you, Veronica, everything about you. I will never forget the way you nibble your lip when you're nervous or twirl your hair when you're under stress. Or when you bite your nails when you're thinking about someone and lick your lips when you're feeling guilty. I will never forget you, Veronica. Even in the afterlife, when I'm burning in the pits of lava, I'll be thinking about you and how I should've done right by you. And even though I know you and Katherine will be laughing at me from the thrones of hell, I will be smiling. Because all I will be thinking about is you. Your touch, your scent, your taste, your compassion, your heart, your understanding, your forgiveness, your lies, your truths, your curves, your scars, your bravery, your humor, your smirk, your style, your care, your quirks, your idiosyncrasies, your everything. You are no doubt the most angelic thing ever to step foot upon Earth. And even though you're in Hell with Katherine, sipping margaritas, I will never stop thinking you're an angel. There's so many things you don't know about me, Veronica. The fact that I love to write and I wanted to be a writer when I grew up, before all of this happened, anyway. That I love classic movies and books, quoting them in my head because I know no one will get the references nor enjoy the quirk. I wish I had gotten a chance to show and tell you all of this, and so much more. Truman Capote once said, "The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep, no matter, it will rise and find the surface." My love for you, Veronica, will always resurface, whether in kindness, jealousy, regret, sadness, or even hate. Just thinking of you creates a pain in my chest one might describe as butterflies. And it hurts me, Veronica, it physically hurts me, that I will never be able to look into those chocolate colored brown eyes of yours. God, those eyes... And as much as I love you, you don't love me back. You don't even feel the slightest admiration for me. You've physically, emotionally, and mentally broken me, Veronica. But you've also made me confident. And I thank you for that. I know I come off as cocky, arrogant, and selfish. That's because I am all of those things. I'm cocky because I have the most beautiful girl in the world by my side— well, had. I'm arrogant because I know I am the luckiest guy in the world if I'm even in your presence— well, when I was in your presence. And I am selfish, because I love you, Veronica. I'm no longer cocky, or arrogant, seeing that I no longer have the one thing that gives me life. And I'm also no longer selfish. But not because I don't love you, but because I have officially given up. I have nothing else to live for— no one else to live for. Which is why I'm taking your advice. I'm going to die within the next week, so what's the point? I have a stake hidden under my bed. It's lined with vervain so I can have a fittingly painful death. I only wish my heart could be ripped out so I could understand how I made you feel all those years. I am sorry for all that I've done. And I would apologize until I took my last breath, but there's no point anymore. My last breath will be soon, Veronica. Very soon if everyone's lucky. I'm hoping you have your humanity off. It's what I've convinced myself. Because I honestly don't think I could leave this world knowing everything you said came straight from your heart. So that's what I'm telling myself. Remember when I said I had complete and utter control over you? Funny how the tables have turned, huh? You have so much control over me, Veronica. So, I'm going to go now. Get the deed done with. Tell Damon I appreciate him. Tell Elena she's an angel. Tell Caroline she's a saint. Tell them I love them. And if you can, tell Stefan that I'm sorry... I tried. I'll see you soon, Veronica. I'll see you in hell. But not because you belong there, but because I do.
Love,
Forsythe Pendleton "Jughead Jones" III