Alphabet ≫ Jarchie

Exemplar II

Exemplar— the one literally nobody asked for.

☁︎☀︎☁︎

Archie woke up to raw sunlight and a wet tongue.

Scrunching up his nose, it took him a few seconds to realize that the tongue licking at his nose belonged to a black cat with piercing green eyes. Sort of like Jughead's.

With a shaky hand, he reached over to pet the pretty cat, surprised when it leaned into his hand and began to purr on top of his chest. For a super hero, Archie had never been too good with animals. They always seemed to hate him and flee in the opposite direction.

"Lily," a voice called out, the sound growing louder as it rounded the corner. Archie's eyes automatically flew to Jughead as he appeared at the doorway, practically glowing in the morning sun. "Lily, get off of him," he sighed. His feet shuffled toward the bed when the cat disobeyed, relishing in Archie's gentle touch. With one scoop, Jughead picked Lily up and set her on the ground.

His room looked a lot bigger in the daylight; homey and personal. The walls were a light gray, framed by white molding along the floors and ceilings. Art was everywhere, giving the gray a pop of color and meaning. Archie didn't even know Jughead drew, but his work was good. Really good. There wasn't much else to the room, just a closet, a cluttered work area, and the bed he laid in now.

"You have a cat?" Archie asked. A groan followed his words as he tried to pull himself up into a sitting position.

Jughead went straight to playing doctor. "How are you feeling?" He asked as he grabbed at his wounded arm. Upon inspection, it seemed that Archie had healed over night. The stitches had already popped out, leaving just a loop of thread at the end.

"Good. I think," Archie mumbled, slightly annoyed at the fact that Jughead was paying more attention to his arm than him. In fact, Jughead hadn't even made eye contact with him since he walked in.

Jughead placed his arm down and nodded. "Your arm healed," he mentioned before pulling up Archie's shirt. The gash was closed up, but there was something off about it. Jughead frowned and, without hesitation, poked at his side.

Archie yelped in pain.

"Your side? Not so much."

"If that wasn't already clear enough from you poking me," Archie grit between his teeth as he smacked his hand away and pulled his shirt down.

Jughead sat back on the bed and finally looked into Archie's eyes with a calculating glance. After a minute, he almost seemed to smile. "Lily is my sister's cat. I watch her every Sunday. She has anxiety and can't be left alone for more than a certain amount of time."

Surprised that he even answered, Archie smiled back. "Jelly Bean. She was always one for taking in strays. Maybe I should've went to her."

They both knew that wasn't possible. Jelly Bean couldn't strip the world of its layers like Archie and Jughead could. She was lucky. It was a burden that Archie had put upon the both of them, and ten years later they were still paying the price.

Jughead decided to ignore his comment and avoid his gaze. "Is that normal? Wounds not healing all the way?"

"No. Not really," he admitted. His hands clawed at his own shirt as he took a peek himself. The wound itself was closed up, his abdomen no longer torn. There was no blood or evidence of being stabbed, but the bruising was a deep purple that took up his entire side. Now that he was aware of it, he could feel his body throbbing and aching.

"Does it hurt?" Jughead asked, right on cue.

But he had already done enough, and Archie had already overstayed.