Trapped in Silk

1.3

 Sunday morning, six in the morning, all decent people were still wrapped up in bed. But not Archie Andrews, oh no, he'd been lying awake for at least an hour going over his dad's words. And he was done. There was no more avoiding it. He and Jug were going to have a little chat. He pulled on a fleece, tying up his trainers, if he didn't go now he'd probably chicken out. 

As he slipped out of the front door he was hit by a wall of cold air, the sun hadn't even risen yet. He pulled up his collar and delved his hands into his pockets. By the end of the street his whole face was numb, but then again thats how his whole body felt. Was he actually doing this? And doing what exactly, coming out, going into battle, he had absolutely no idea what was ahead, all he knew was the pit in his stomach made turning back quite attractive. 

•~•~•~•

The trailer park was in sight, grimy and falling apart, peaceful in the light of the rising sun. Archie slowed his pace, messing with his hair as he contemplated just looping back round. His legs carried him to the door, but not a step more. He was being ridiculous, all he needed to do was raise his hand, and nock on the door. It really shouldn't be this hard.

Jughead was woken by the jarring creak of the steps of the trailer. Shit. He knew things would be bad if his dad was back this late, or this early judging by the orange sun climbing over the forest outside. He felt his pulse start to rise, he couldn't deal with this right know. He just needed a moment to think. 

He rose silently, planning on shutting the door, or maybe he should just hide under the bed. A loud creak came from the floorboard below him, oh dear god, he was in for it know. Praying that he hadn't been herd from outside he made a dash for the door, slamming it shut before wincing at the noise. He was about to dive to the floor when his head began to spin, his hands were shaking but he wasn't sure if it was from fear or hunger. Jughead couldn't remember the last thing he'd eaten, for once he was proud of himself.

Returning to the current situation he lowered himself to the floor, wedging himself under his metal framed bed. He held his breath and waited.  Nothing. He placed his hands over his mouth to muffle his breathing, bringing his knees up to his chest. Still, nothing. FP was never this quite. Something was wrong. With adrenalin coursing through his veins he pushed himself from underneath the bed, prowling towards his window. Careful not to lean to hard on the brittle panes, he pressed his face side on to the glass, trying to catch a glimpse of his huntsman. He swallowed, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat. Archie, it was Archie. Jughead sprinted towards the door, bounding over the sofa as he went. He swung the door wide, leaping onto the redhead, throwing his arms around his neck. Archie took a step back in surprise, eyes wide he brought his arms up and tentatively placed them on his friend's back. This is not how he saw this going.

"So...", Archie began, his voice betraying him.

"Im not your dad". Jughead blurted out, taking Archie by the shoulders.

"Umm, well.. yeah?", his head cocked to the side, put at ease by his friends stupidity.

"No, no-your not my dad, I'm not, your... ugh. Jesus, I'm not my dad." Archie continued to stare blankly. "I mean, I don't give two shits if you're gay, I mean I don't think you're gay, your friend, not me, some one else, oh jeez," he sighed, running his hand over his face, staring up into his bemused eyes. 

Archie opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. Face blank, eyes wide. "I-thats, um... wait what?" he caved stepping closer, a dawn of a smile rising on his lips.

"Lets go inside", Jughead groaned, pulling him in by his sleeve. 

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Sorry for the wait, happy Halloween for tomorrow, I sure you nothing will be as scary as the quality of my writing. Please vote and comment :)