Definition of Want (Bughead)

KISSES

Jughead didn't try to redeem another coupon for awhile. He was doing his chores with a bigger effort than ever before. Betty, who couldn't help but wonder, thought that it could be one of two reasons.

One; she'd made him realize how rarely he did chores and he was trying to make an effort to be a better roommate.

Two; he was doing chores so that when he did have an occasion or urge to use the coupons, it would be well worth it.

Still, Betty began to fear that she'd shoved him into using the first one and he was avoiding the coupon book. She didn't know why he'd have such an adverse reaction to a gift nor why he wouldn't want to use it. It was downright strange. But, then again, did she want to strongarm him into making her do more chores? She didn't hate doing them, but she didn't enjoy chores either. If she wanted to pick up more days vacuuming, she'd just tell him to forget about it and do it herself. Jughead withholding his coupons was better for her anyway.

She tried not to worry about it, but one thing Betty knew well about herself was that worrying was always inevitable. Even over something as stupid as unloading the dishwasher or cleaning out the fridge.

Still, as the days slipped into weeks, Betty gradually started to care less and less about it. Midterms were fast approaching and she hardly had time to clean the apartment herself, so she could hardly get upset that Jughead didn't.

Somewhere around two A.M, which Betty had concluded was Jughead's natural waking hours, she was sitting up on the couch attempting to finish her paper due at 8 A.M the next morning. She usually wasn't such a procrastinator but she'd been overwhelmed this week and the fact that she didn't have this paper done three days ago was clawing at her, but hey...what can you do?

Jughead came into the kitchen, looking awake for the late hour, before noticing her clacking away on the couch. She heard the door to the fridge open but didn't pay attention to it. It was only after a few minutes she realized the fridge door had not re-closed. They didn't have that much food to peruse through.

She didn't register that he was watching her until she looked up again and realized he hadn't really moved. He was just staring at her with a can of Red Bull in his hands, the most peculiar expression on his face. His other hand was on the edge of the fridge's lip, still open, casting a yellowish light upon the cracked tile of their kitchen.

"What?" She was really worried that it was something awful.

"The coupon book..." He started cautiously. Betty, who might have been eager to hear what he had to say a couple of days ago, was now knee-deep in citations and in-text references and hardly had time to wonder about his reaction to it.

"Yeah?" She asked, diverting 70% of her attention back to her paper, allowing Jug only enough of her mind so that she could process what he was saying (somewhat) and give a one or two-word answer.

"You're just pretty calm about it."

Betty licked her lips as she copied and pasted the citation, her eyes scanning the page to make sure she'd just inserted the right one, "Well, yeah. What's there to be nervous about?" She asked. Eight words as an answer. That was a lot of effort for her right now.

She couldn't see his face. She didn't have time to look. There was a long pause on his end, however.

"You are an enigma, Cooper."

There was a near-reverence in his voice. She would attempt to unpack that later, but right now she tugged her ponytail tighter as she went back for her third proof-read of this assignment.

"It's super not a big deal. I'm happy to do it, especially if it'll make you happier."

"Well, that's a given," He said. See, exactly. Jughead and no chores equaled happiness. She'd cracked the code.