“ That one won’t work on me, Mantle. ” Or will it? Betty’s finger traces a finger down the window pane, lazily drawing swooping swirls in the chilly frost. She has to consciously resist every urge to initial their names in the sacred heart that’s lined every childhood relationship growing up.
RM + BC.
She feels him come up behind her, strong arms wrapped around her curvy frame. His mouth grazes her earlobe with what has to be INTENT, before making a detour down the bunny-slope of her neck and into the oasis of her collarbones, exposed with the fluffy sweater she’s thrown on this evening.
She hums with appreciation, forever fighting a smile when he’s around. Or, maybe not forever. But it feels like it ––– like ever since they moved away, left Riverdale’s assumptions behind, it’s been easier to smile, laugh, grin in his presence. Reggie’s different here, now, whether he knows it or not. Or maybe he’s always been this way, but HIDDEN, like a pearl within an oyster.
Wiggling out of his grip, she leads with one arm over to the couch in his enviously large single. Not the bed. Not yet. Though everything about it is palpable, sending flustered tingles from the tippiest of her toes, to the tops of her ears.
“ Come on then, I’ll stay for another movie. You got any favorites? ”
CHRISTMAS & HOLIDAYS! || not accepting
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