Lost (in Your Emerald Eyes)

S E V E N T E E N

It had been two days since Jughead had seen Betty. With her working with the Mantles and him helping his father (now sober of three days) to collect every single Serpent's alibi for Saturday night, the contact between the two teenagers had faded a bit. Of course, they still texted every day and night, but both of them missed the fun conversations about stupid little things they used to have.

So, on Thursday, after faking some security footages of the Whyte Wyrm by photoshopping a few men into the video, Jughead decided to surprise the blonde. He knew Betty didn't have many cars to fix anymore, and would end the day at about 3 pm, and therefore, rode his motorcycle to the Mantle household about fifteen minutes before.

He parked on a sidewalk about a block away and smirking to himself, sent the girl a message.

Here.

The answer came a few minutes later: a bunch of question marks. Sending a winking emoji back to her, he knew she'd figure it out, simply leaning onto his bike and staring toward where the house should've been, waiting for Betty to emerge from it.

She did, about ten minutes later, with a smile on her face. The girl looked around momentarily before locking her eyes with him in the distance and walking toward him, slightly bouncing on her feet.

With the short overalls still on and a dark shirt under it, hair in a perfect bun, she looked beautiful, but Jughead's favorite parts of the outfit were the grease-spots over her clothes, arms, and face. And God did she look adorable stopping in front of him with a smile, head slightly tilted to look up at him.

"Hello," he grinned.

"Hi," the girl giggled, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, feeling the oil on it, but only making it worse by doing so. "What are you doing here?"

"Picking you up?" His hands moved to her waist, not giving it another thought, and pulled her closer. "And I don't hate this outfit."

"Jug," Betty slowly said with a smirk on her lips, raising her eyebrows once she had his attention.

Smirking, he leaned closer to her. "What?" he whispered.

Betty's hands moved up to his chest, and her whole body froze once they were on the place, Jughead's hot breath hitting against her nose. The initial thought had been to push him away, but now that she realized he was only wearing a wife-beater, no leather, not even the flannel... She was, simply, fucked.

With her eyes sliding over his chest and arms that weren't too muscular but definitely showed that he worked out, Jughead smirked. "What?" he asked, trying hard not to burst out laughing. Maybe she was just as gone for him as he was for her.

"Uh..." Shaking her head a bit, Betty leaned away, looking up at him. "We're in broad daylight, in the middle of a street that rich privileged people live on."

"And?" he teased.

Huffing, she yanked herself away and took a step back, hands resting on her hips as the boy laughed. "If someone saw-"

"It's not like they'd recognize you without your tight ponytail and pastels, covered in grease."

The smirk on his face was the most annoying thing Betty had seen, and suddenly the girl had an instinct to smack him in the face. Scared by that thought though, she just let him laugh, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. "I still have about an hour to go."

Frowning, the smile still on his face, he said, "What? You said at 4 o'clock."

"Well, yeah, another client showed up and he's waiting for me to change two of his tires, so..."