Definition of Want (Bughead)

HANDCUFFS

We have a new poll for next chapter!
Vote here: https://linkto.run/p/09RX5A0O!
Also, if you want to see their apartment, the floorplan is now up on my Tumblr youngbloodlex22!

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June came with a heat that could not be stifled. The apartment's old AC, which looked like it was held together with duct tape and hope, finally broke down the first week when temperatures reached the 90s. When they called their landlord out to take a look at it, he gave a withering laugh and just shook his head. This unit had been unchanged for nearly 30 years. It was hardly a surprise that the amenities of it were kicking the can. He screwed around for a little bit, tapped it and kicked it, and eventually just gave a shrug.

If that were not frustrating enough, he gazed around the apartment and snickered, "Yeah, likely won't be long 'till the rest of it goes," He said critically.

This lead to a discussion on their patio, a rarity for their price range, or at first they had thought. It wasn't the most stable and probably wasn't going to become more stable, so they only dared to venture out a scant few times. The heat had driven them out here most nights, where the breeze from the busy city streets drifted up and gave the pair some much-needed relief.

"Do you think this means that the place is going to start breaking down, one thing at a time? Like, first our fridge, then our dishwasher, then our locks, or..." Jughead scratched his head.

"What do you mean 'or'," Betty asked, having not seen any other way to take his meaning.

"You saw him! He's like ancient. What are the chances that he dies soon and someone else takes over this apartment? Maybe it's already happening."

"That dude was here at the start of these apartments and he'll be around until the end of time," Betty snorted, "You're head is messing up your fictional story-lines with reality."

Jughead tipped back his water bottle but found it empty, but Betty could tell that he was not satisfied.

"What?"

"It's just..." He coughed, "Hear me out. I do not agree with your mother on 99.9% of occasions-,"

"God, we're bringing my mother into this?"

"But what maybe I do agree with her about is moving. In a different way, of course."

"Out of...here?" Betty echoed. As shitty as this apartment felt sometimes, Betty had grown attached to the slightly off-beige walls or the sink that sometimes leaked from the edge or the AC unit that they were having a funeral for tomorrow.

"Just a thought," Jughead mumbled, "Lease needs to be signed in a few weeks anyway. We could find something else. Something..." He began, but then bit off the end of his words.

"Something what?"

"Just think about it."

Betty knew this wasn't what he'd been about to say, but she realized there would be no budging him. While it bothered her, Jughead only got more argumentative and moody when you tried to push him somewhere he didn't want to go. It would do no good to bother him because chances are he'd never bring it up.

If it was something that was pressing so much on his mind, Betty was confident within a few weeks, he'd have to tell her.

XXxxXX

As the summer classes began to dwindle, Betty's hours shortened at the Library. She found herself home quite often, cleaning and re-cleaning and organizing nearly everything in their apartment.

It also gave her far too much time to obsess over things she should not be thinking about.

Her family.