[ the moment she spots him coming from the warmly-lit home, she's slipping from her rover, tiny specs of snow catching at the vibrancy of her hair, setting in the dramatic bow of her lashes. she doesn't mind allowing him to carry the bag for her, managing it out from the passenger seat to pass along to him, careful to ensure it's rested on the weight of the forearm not sporting a broken hand.
it's difficult, not to look at him and remember that day. the way the ice felt against her calves. how quickly she'd gone numb once submerged. she blinks away the thoughts, wrapping arms around herself instead to follow him indoors, lips normally boasting a vivid ruby settled on something far calmer, far more natural. ]
[ It is strange to see her without the lipstick. It's always just been Cheryl. But Archie blinks away any confusion and instead holds her bag tight. He leads the way into the house. The question posed as they hit the threshold. He doesn't answer just yet. Instead he continues to walk until he puts her bag by the stairs. Finally he turns to her and thinks. It's a complicated question. Though not really. Maybe Archie just thinks it is. Because he's not technically alone. As proven by Vegas who peers around the sofa at the visitor. ]
My mom was here for a few weeks, but there wasn't a whole lot either of us could do. Plus she kept hovering. Like everywhere so I told her to go back to Chicago. She offered to let me come with, but I figured I was of better use here.
[ Especially if his dad woke up. Or if Betty needed him. Or if Veronica needed him. Or Jughead. Or FP. Or even Cheryl. He wasn't going to turn around and run. ]
But after she left it's just been me and Vegas. So, ya know not technically alone.
[ she follows him quietly, steps lithe and eyes wandering, but not intrusive. it was an entirely different demeanor than which she usually carried, armed with a venomous tongue, a means of keeping others as far away from her as possible. the closer they got, the more likely they were to hurt her.
she wouldn't let that happen.
the calm, golden lab stalks over toward where she stands as if in cue to his name said aloud, softest of smiles greeting Cheryl's face as she crouches down, letting the dog cautiously catch scent of her palm before easing a soothing, slow pet over it's crown. ] It must have been a tempting offer, still.
[ Archie is pretty sure the Blossom family doesn't have much familiarity with dogs. Especially dogs like Vegas. But Cheryl looks calm enough when Vegas comes over to greet the new person in the room. A scent that isn't familiar to him. He's grown use to Jughead and Betty. Even Veronica. Cheryl is new though and therefore requires plenty of sniffing and studying. ]
A little. [ He doesn't say that it was tempting to get away from the murder and the lies. But none of that is Cheryl's fault. He doesn't want her thinking that. Which is why he bites his tongue. ] But Riverdale's home. As crazy as things seem right now it's where I belong for now.
[ It's a weird thought, but he can't ignore it. Not after everything. He'll leave one day, but it's not gonna be right now. ]
You hungry? Cold? I sorta know how get the fireplace going. It was always my dad's thing, but I'm good enough to wing it.
[ there's lots of things others don't know of her— not as if it's their faults. she's perfected a mask that allows her to only be seen at surface level, nothing beneath, nothing more. it's why it's simple, why she often hand waves those that consider her the knives of words that've been tossed her way, murmured within the halls.
no one truly knew her at all. she preferred it that way. a moment later, and she's straightening back up, digging teeth into the coral pink of her lips. ] A little of both? I mean, unless you count unlimited champagne at the loft as a meal.
[ a little shrug, pulling the ends of pink, cropped sweater to cover her fingers. she doesn't miss the rouge that's kissed to his nose, his cheeks, the suggestion of flesh that it's he whose cold. ] I'll grab the food, if you want to start the fire.
I'm gonna say no. That's not a meal. Pretty sure it's not even a food group.
[ It's in this moment he feels more like his dad than ever. If there was one thing his dad was good at it was looking after people. At least he tried to be. He took of Archie no matter what. Encouraged him. Helped him. It's not really a surprise that Archie feels compelled to do the same thing for the people around him. The people that look like they need it or don't wanna ask.
She's right though. He is cold. It's what he gets for making that walk. ] Deal. [ Archie smiles big and bright. He moves around into the living room where he stoops in front of the fire place. He makes sure the flue is open before he takes one of the long matches from the box. His dad put wood in it when winter crept up, but it had yet to be burned. Archie strikes it and gets it going. Staying close in case it died out and he had to relight it. Once he's positive it's going he stands up and steps back. ]
[ cheryl isn't really used to another taking care of her, let alone simply asking her if she was alright. more often than not, she took it as a means of weakness, allowing others to see how she's withered, how everything that's happened within her family, now plastered across headlines of riverdale's news, has gotten to her. losing jason was only the beginning.
everything had only gotten worse.
it's a different sort of feeling, being in his home, small feet carrying her across wooden floorboards toward the quaint kitchen. nothing was more than it needed to be, not overly furnished or played up with unnecessary, untouched decor. it was lived in, a totem of wholeness. a blink, and she's cast from her daze while she gathers their shakes and take out bag, bringing it back to the slow-kindle of a fire illuminating the family room.
a petite smile hints at her lips. ] Pretty sure burgers and milkshakes isn't the best of food groups, either, but it's been far too long.
[ Living with his dad kind of meant that Pop's was your source of dinner. But he never minded it. His dad worked hard and he was hardly a chef in the kitchen. He could cook a few things, but with the business being that shaky he didn't expect his dad would be home every night doing dinner. Archie should probably learn how to cook, but it's not like Riverdale gave him the time recently. Maybe with his dad out he'll try to teach himself a thing or two. So he can look after his dad better when he comes home. Not if.
Archie moves to sit on the couch and draw the coffee table closer. Vegas jumps into an empty lounge chair close by and curls up as he watches his owner and Cheryl. Archie waits and leans back into the cushions. His fingers in the cast curl and flex as he gets some of the feeling back into them after the cold walk. ]
My dad would argue that pretty firmly. Since my mom moved to Chicago burgers are pretty much a staple here. But. [ He smiles and shrugs his shoulders. ] Tomorrow night I could find something better for us. If you want. We don't have things for a salad, but I'm pretty sure I could buy them.
[ frankly, she'd prefer it to the haunting dinners that'd been shared at thorn hill. a table elongated as if to exclude the potential for chatting, distancing an already broken family ever further. eventually, she had stopped coming to dinner, allowing her parents to eat at each end in silence.
even alongside his words, it doesn't pass her how his fingers maneuver themselves within the cast, more a means of allowing a bit more circulation— warmth to ease back to the digits, than in efforts to comfort them. the slightest furrow takes to her brows, and while the smile on her lips is present, there's a sadness there. the suggestion of tomorrow night: could she truly believe this wasn't a matter of pity? empathy, even?
she'd walked out onto that ice with the intent to end it all. to join her brother. archie was a good guy, and with all everyone's lost, his dad in the hospital... it wouldn't be off base to assume he was merely sympathizing. helping someone while he still could. a means not to feel so helpless, and she was a classic case. ] I didn't realize this was turning into a hotel service, Andrews.
[ an attempt at lightness, and despite how own hands ache to curl around his palm, still boasting of the frigid air outdoors, she refrains. ] Really I— ... I appreciate it, but I don't want to overstay my welcome.
What can I say? It's full service at the Andrews house. Dinner. A bed. Fire places and getting woken up to a wet dog nose.
[ Probably not cleaning. Because Archie Andrews is still a teenage boy. While he does try to keep things neat sometimes things get the better of him. Like spread out laundry. And things of that nature. But he doesn't expect Cheryl to be cleaning up nay messes. Not because of who she is, but because they wouldn't be her messes. He just thought that maybe they could both benefit from being around one another here. A safer place than with her mother no doubt.
Archie quickly shakes his head though as she tries to wiggle out. He's spent enough time with Cheryl to know that people aren't kind to her. Granted a lot of that is because of how she treats people, but still. He doubts she really knows what kindness looks like. But he intends to make sure she does. Because he's not giving up. Archie Andrews is stubborn. ]
You're not overstaying anything, Cheryl. [ He reaches into the bag and pulls out her burger with a grin. He places it in front of her. ] I want you here. Unless you're trying to get out of breakfast. Which is actually just me and a box of cereal.
[ a tiny snicker. the full service she's used to was granted quite excessively at the loft in which she was currently staying— room service was more like a full on bed and breakfast, at any time of the day. money was never something she had to worry about, and sure, often it was taken advantage of. what girl would pass down a bottle of crisp champagne and a silken robe left at the bed's edge?
as the saying goes, money doesn't buy you happiness. or safety. or the guarantee that you'll make it out alive. ] That's a much different wake up than I'm used to.
[ she takes the burger that's handed to her, curling her legs up indian style atop the couch and settling it at her calves, unfolding the wrapper. it was something to hold her gaze rather than meeting his, the kindness that emanated from them, the worry so similar to the one she'd found when he'd pulled her out of that lake. i want you here.
but why should he? — a bite is taken, undoubtedly enjoyed. there was no other option with pops. a low hum, before she's peering in his direction. ] Okay, that entirely depends on what cereal we're talking.
[ Archie is about as loyal as a Golden Retriever. He can get burned. He can get hurt. He can get snubbed. He can get pushed around and manipulated, but ultimately he's fairly forgiving. He understands as well that most of the things Cheryl says and does are done out of fear. Fear and maybe a little bit of chaos. Her and her mother's worlds were thrown into chaos the moment Jason died. Things kept spiraling out as well. Which is probably why Archie is quick to forgive her. Even after everything. Why not? If Jason and her father's deaths have taught him anything alongside his father's shooting it was that life was too short.
He reaches for his burger finally and unwraps it slowly. A little slower with the cast, but he gets it half down and then takes a big bite. Chewing and swallowing before taking a sip from his own chocolate milkshake. ] Probably whatever's open in my pantry. [ It could be a few things. But he's pretty sure it might be Lucky Charms though. ]
Thinking it's Lucky Charms. Been a few mornings since I've been at home to eat them.
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no subject
it's difficult, not to look at him and remember that day. the way the ice felt against her calves. how quickly she'd gone numb once submerged. she blinks away the thoughts, wrapping arms around herself instead to follow him indoors, lips normally boasting a vivid ruby settled on something far calmer, far more natural. ]
Have you been staying alone?
no subject
My mom was here for a few weeks, but there wasn't a whole lot either of us could do. Plus she kept hovering. Like everywhere so I told her to go back to Chicago. She offered to let me come with, but I figured I was of better use here.
[ Especially if his dad woke up. Or if Betty needed him. Or if Veronica needed him. Or Jughead. Or FP. Or even Cheryl. He wasn't going to turn around and run. ]
But after she left it's just been me and Vegas. So, ya know not technically alone.
no subject
she wouldn't let that happen.
the calm, golden lab stalks over toward where she stands as if in cue to his name said aloud, softest of smiles greeting Cheryl's face as she crouches down, letting the dog cautiously catch scent of her palm before easing a soothing, slow pet over it's crown. ] It must have been a tempting offer, still.
To get away from it all.
no subject
A little. [ He doesn't say that it was tempting to get away from the murder and the lies. But none of that is Cheryl's fault. He doesn't want her thinking that. Which is why he bites his tongue. ] But Riverdale's home. As crazy as things seem right now it's where I belong for now.
[ It's a weird thought, but he can't ignore it. Not after everything. He'll leave one day, but it's not gonna be right now. ]
You hungry? Cold? I sorta know how get the fireplace going. It was always my dad's thing, but I'm good enough to wing it.
no subject
no one truly knew her at all. she preferred it that way. a moment later, and she's straightening back up, digging teeth into the coral pink of her lips. ] A little of both? I mean, unless you count unlimited champagne at the loft as a meal.
[ a little shrug, pulling the ends of pink, cropped sweater to cover her fingers. she doesn't miss the rouge that's kissed to his nose, his cheeks, the suggestion of flesh that it's he whose cold. ] I'll grab the food, if you want to start the fire.
no subject
[ It's in this moment he feels more like his dad than ever. If there was one thing his dad was good at it was looking after people. At least he tried to be. He took of Archie no matter what. Encouraged him. Helped him. It's not really a surprise that Archie feels compelled to do the same thing for the people around him. The people that look like they need it or don't wanna ask.
She's right though. He is cold. It's what he gets for making that walk. ] Deal. [ Archie smiles big and bright. He moves around into the living room where he stoops in front of the fire place. He makes sure the flue is open before he takes one of the long matches from the box. His dad put wood in it when winter crept up, but it had yet to be burned. Archie strikes it and gets it going. Staying close in case it died out and he had to relight it. Once he's positive it's going he stands up and steps back. ]
It's lit. Let's just hope it stays lit.
no subject
everything had only gotten worse.
it's a different sort of feeling, being in his home, small feet carrying her across wooden floorboards toward the quaint kitchen. nothing was more than it needed to be, not overly furnished or played up with unnecessary, untouched decor. it was lived in, a totem of wholeness. a blink, and she's cast from her daze while she gathers their shakes and take out bag, bringing it back to the slow-kindle of a fire illuminating the family room.
a petite smile hints at her lips. ] Pretty sure burgers and milkshakes isn't the best of food groups, either, but it's been far too long.
no subject
Archie moves to sit on the couch and draw the coffee table closer. Vegas jumps into an empty lounge chair close by and curls up as he watches his owner and Cheryl. Archie waits and leans back into the cushions. His fingers in the cast curl and flex as he gets some of the feeling back into them after the cold walk. ]
My dad would argue that pretty firmly. Since my mom moved to Chicago burgers are pretty much a staple here. But. [ He smiles and shrugs his shoulders. ] Tomorrow night I could find something better for us. If you want. We don't have things for a salad, but I'm pretty sure I could buy them.
no subject
even alongside his words, it doesn't pass her how his fingers maneuver themselves within the cast, more a means of allowing a bit more circulation— warmth to ease back to the digits, than in efforts to comfort them. the slightest furrow takes to her brows, and while the smile on her lips is present, there's a sadness there. the suggestion of tomorrow night: could she truly believe this wasn't a matter of pity? empathy, even?
she'd walked out onto that ice with the intent to end it all. to join her brother. archie was a good guy, and with all everyone's lost, his dad in the hospital... it wouldn't be off base to assume he was merely sympathizing. helping someone while he still could. a means not to feel so helpless, and she was a classic case. ] I didn't realize this was turning into a hotel service, Andrews.
[ an attempt at lightness, and despite how own hands ache to curl around his palm, still boasting of the frigid air outdoors, she refrains. ] Really I— ... I appreciate it, but I don't want to overstay my welcome.
no subject
[ Probably not cleaning. Because Archie Andrews is still a teenage boy. While he does try to keep things neat sometimes things get the better of him. Like spread out laundry. And things of that nature. But he doesn't expect Cheryl to be cleaning up nay messes. Not because of who she is, but because they wouldn't be her messes. He just thought that maybe they could both benefit from being around one another here. A safer place than with her mother no doubt.
Archie quickly shakes his head though as she tries to wiggle out. He's spent enough time with Cheryl to know that people aren't kind to her. Granted a lot of that is because of how she treats people, but still. He doubts she really knows what kindness looks like. But he intends to make sure she does. Because he's not giving up. Archie Andrews is stubborn. ]
You're not overstaying anything, Cheryl. [ He reaches into the bag and pulls out her burger with a grin. He places it in front of her. ] I want you here. Unless you're trying to get out of breakfast. Which is actually just me and a box of cereal.
no subject
as the saying goes, money doesn't buy you happiness. or safety. or the guarantee that you'll make it out alive. ] That's a much different wake up than I'm used to.
[ she takes the burger that's handed to her, curling her legs up indian style atop the couch and settling it at her calves, unfolding the wrapper. it was something to hold her gaze rather than meeting his, the kindness that emanated from them, the worry so similar to the one she'd found when he'd pulled her out of that lake. i want you here.
but why should he? — a bite is taken, undoubtedly enjoyed. there was no other option with pops. a low hum, before she's peering in his direction. ] Okay, that entirely depends on what cereal we're talking.
no subject
He reaches for his burger finally and unwraps it slowly. A little slower with the cast, but he gets it half down and then takes a big bite. Chewing and swallowing before taking a sip from his own chocolate milkshake. ] Probably whatever's open in my pantry. [ It could be a few things. But he's pretty sure it might be Lucky Charms though. ]
Thinking it's Lucky Charms. Been a few mornings since I've been at home to eat them.