@ajugheadjones || continued.
There’s a sudden pause in the conversation, words stirred by the new voice cutting in. Mouth freeze and eyes turn to look at the younger party member, silent disdain for the interruption. James’ eyes are narrowed and piercing, fingers faltering on the cigarette balanced between his lips. It’s undecided how welcomed the cut in is, but there is also intrigue, interest; this kid with thoughts and opinions.
The gang member raised a brow, ever so slight, waiting for Jughead to continue, invested in what else he had to say. He looked smart, no where near daft. And he seemed to have some excellent points of consideration.
His head shifts down to stare at their collected feet, in their circle of conversation that only shouts schemes and rebellion. A short laugh to himself, fingers pinching the cigarette before lungs are exhaling another stream of smoke, the one that always seems to follow him like a shroud. “What’s it to ya, kid? If its a go or not?” Eyes lift to stare down the teen, lighthearted energy behind pupils meshed with the real cold of interrogation. “Less you’re lookin’ to join us, and save your own ass when you do.”
