The pause is short, but it cuts through Jughead’s dignity like a hot chainsaw through butter. “I was thinking I’d eat at Pop’s anyway.” Archie shifts a little, so he adds, “I’ll stay out late, probably.” “So, I talked to Val earlier about maybe hanging out here…” he says. He looks up at Archie, who for half a second almost smiles. The silence grows until it threatens to suffocate, and it’s small wonder that when it’s broken by the sound of the front door slamming downstairs, they both crack at the same time. Jughead on the very edge of his mattress with his nose right down in his laptop, armored in headphones and hat, and Archie nestled amongst the pillows, flipping through the chemistry book far too quickly to actually be reading it. It gnaws and chafes, creates an invisible barrier in the bedroom, and the barrier keeps expanding, filling the space up slowly, pushing them back until they’re cornered. He's not sure whether it's just the fact that they've been sharing a room for two weeks, or if the half-truths and untold secrets that have muddied their friendship for the past six months are still taking their toll, but there's no mistaking it there's a certain tension between them.
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