(not at all) six sentence sunday
because sss always motivates me to actually write. (from my eldritch angel/demon Hallmark AU)
Betty was standing on the second level of the stepping stool, attaching the mistletoe to the overhanging garland, when she heard Jughead approach.
“What’s all this going to be?”
“A photo area,” she answered, giving him the barest glance. He was taking a sip from a large travel mug in his hand. Did he ever stop eating?
Resolutely looking away from him, Betty focused on tying the ribbon around the top side of the garland, but misjudged the height, wobbling slightly on her feet. Before she lost her balance, Jughead was at her side, hand steady on the handrail of the stool.
“Easy there,” he teased softly. Betty bristled at his sudden proximity, warmth passing over her from head to toe. Childishly, she responded to his tone with a stubborn glare. His face was uncomfortably close. He was so tall that even while she was standing on the footstool, he almost reached her shoulders.
He met her look with an amused smile, but his eyes slowly tracked up to the mistletoe she was now holding above their heads.
“Huh,” he said blankly, his expression oddly vacant.
