"Wait! Stop right there, the light is perfect," he commanded, holding out a palm to pause her in her tracks. "I want to get a picture of the bump," he smiled, raising the camera to his face as Betty rolled her eyes, complying with his wishes nonetheless. Once he'd actually had enough money to invest in the equipment, Jughead had discovered a newfound passion for photography. Just like with writing he could express himself through the images he captured, finding the extraordinary in the ordinary. And one of his favourite subjects of all time was definitely his beautiful wife.
"I'm barely showing still, Juggie. I just look like I'm bloated from eating a giant burrito!" she whined, bowing her back slightly to make the tiny swell stick out more in front of their bay window, resting her hands on her waist where she arched. She was only wearing some dark green shorts and a sports bra, makeupless, hair thrown up in a messy bun on top of her head. The countless fly-aways there caught the early evening sunset that was pouring into their living room, lighting her hair up in a halo of golds and pinks and oranges while leaving the rest of her frame in shadow, little bump popping against the overexposed sky as she stood side on to Jughead's camera.
"I wanna capture all of it," he said with a small smile, ignoring her protests as he took a couple of shots. He'd been obsessed with the bump ever since she'd popped about a week ago. He couldn't keep himself from running his fingers over it while they laid in bed, resting his hands over it as they snuggled together on the couch watching a movie, placing gentle butterfly kisses on top of it first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He'd not told Betty yet but he'd already started talking to it, only after his wife had fallen asleep, tiny whispers into the darkness for his and the baby's ears only. Promises of a wonderful life.
He lowered his camera to look at her, dazed smile still resting contentedly on his lips as he watched her watch something out on their street. It was never the life he would have written for himself, but he thanked whatever author that was out there who did.
"Are you done? I have to pee," she said bluntly, pulling him abruptly from his romantic thoughts with a chuckle. He held up his palms in surrender, backing away, happy to go and upload them to his computer as soon as possible.
"Betts, what is it?" he asked in panic, quickly coming to her side as he saw the tears in her eyes. He rest one hand in her hair, fingers gripping the delicate silken strands, while the other went directly to her bump. Betty pressed her lips together, shaking her head where she stood in front of their kitchen sink.
"I've just gone to the store and we needed garbage bags and I forgot to get them and we've completely run out!" she wailed, gesturing viciously to the trash can like it was the enemy. Jughead blinked in shock, face like stone for a single moment, before he cracked. He burst out laughing, tears springing to his own eyes as he doubled over, clutching at the aching strain creeping into his sides. She glared at him disapprovingly.
"Is-is that all?" he wheezed, pretending to wipe away a drop of moisture from beneath his eye.
"It's not funny, Forsythe Jones!" He sobered slightly at hearing her use his given name, amused smile still dancing around the edges of his mouth. "I'm so damn emotional all the time it's driving me insane," she moaned, eyes titled downwards at the corners in frustration. He pulled her close, planting a kiss to her forehead. She sighed, closing her eyes to enjoy the soothing sensation of having him close, sifting through every mixed feeling battling for attention in her head.
"I know, sunshine. I can't even begin to imagine how hard this is for you. You're incredible," he murmured against her skin. Her sniffles signified she'd calmed down somewhat. "Would you like me to go out and get garbage bags?" he asked, tone soft. She stiffened slightly against him,
"No..." she said tentatively. He pulled back to look at her in question, one eyebrow raised. "I can see them under the counter, they must've rolled out of the bag," she admitted in a small voice, cheeks red at her hormone induced outburst.
"Jughead? Jug? Jug, are you awake? Juggie?" The chorus of his name pulled him from the depths of his slumber, groaning as he blinked groggily into the darkness.
"Hmm," he managed to get out incoherently. He turned his head to look at Betty, finding her sitting cross-legged next to him on her side of the bed. He rolled over, hand coming out automatically to run over the ever-growing swell of her stomach. "You okay?" he asked, voice still thick and gravelly with sleep.
"Uh-huh," she replied, placing her tiny palm on top of his hand. There was a pause as he waited for her to continue.
"Was that all?" he asked, amusement clear in his voice underneath the frustration at having been woken at some ungodly hour.
"You know what sounds good right now?" she asked, completely bypassing his question. He was more awake now, leaning up on an elbow to look at her with teasing eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed.
"What sounds good?" he questioned, indulging her. Betty bit her lip against an excited smile.
"Salt and vinegar chips covered in warm nutella," she grinned, eyes sparkling even in the darkness. He huffed out a laugh, just about getting used to her cravings by now.
"Betty, would you like me to get you salt and vinegar chips covered in warm nutella?" he asked with a smirk. She looked away from his teasing eyes, shrugging gently.
"Well, if you're up..." she replied cheekily. He laughed, throwing his head back slightly before rising up to capture her lips in a loving kiss, moving down to drop another to her stomach before throwing the covers off his legs and making his way downstairs.
