Sometimes it Snows in April: Chapter 3
Authors note:
I have no idea how I feel about this update, but here it is anyways!
_Sweet Pea’s POV: _
“You’re on”, Bea practically snarled, hand flying out to shake my own. I chuckled internally at the sight of her; face flushed red, neck tilted back slightly in order to clearly see my face, and her green eyes narrowed to the point that I wasn’t even certain she could even see anymore. If I was being perfectly honest, I had to admit that I found the sight terrifying and adorable in equal parts. To my extreme annoyance, no matter how irritating I found her at times-- especially when she defended assholes like Andrews-- I still found her somehow intriguing. Bea wasn’t like any other girl I’d met; she was tall, confident, funny, tough, and stubborn as all get out. Fuck, she may be even more stubborn than me. Regardless, I was the master of evading my feelings, and I would be damned if I was going to get involved with another Jones kid.
I grasped her hand tightly, ignoring the way my mind noted how soft it was and how, though it was relatively smaller than my own, I wasn’t nervous about breaking it like I was with most girls. Breaking away from her and my thoughts, I strode over to my favorite table and began racking up the balls. After a few moments I felt the small hairs prick up on the back of my neck and I knew that she'd arrived for the game. Without turning to look, I asked,
“So princess, you want to break or do you want to just give up now?”.
She rolled her eyes in irritation, and I couldn't help the rush of pride I felt in the reaction my short quip caused in her.
“You go ahead and break”, she stated firmly, grabbing a nearby cue and leaning on the table. Her face was still pink-tinged from our previous interaction, but the expression on her face had smoothed into an unreadable mask. If I didn't know any better I would say that she was bored with our game already. I shrugged as I stepped up to the table.
“Your funeral”, I muttered before expertly breaking the set, the solid orange ball sinking into a pocket almost immediately.
“You're stripes”, I dead panned as I lined up my next shot.
“You don't say”, Bea replied dryly. She was leaned up against her cue, arms still crossed on her chest, but her face had softened some. She no longer held a look like she was plotting to stab me in my sleep, so I took that as a positive sign.
“You know you can back out any time, I won't judge you”, I mentioned lightly as I sunk two more of my solids. Bea chuckled lightly and shook her head.
“Ditto to you Jolly Green Giant”, she quipped good naturedly as I missed an easy shot.
I scoffed as she inched her leather jacket off her shoulders and took a spot across the table to line up her first shot. I couldn't help but allow my eyes to freely roam over the new expanse of her arms and shoulders, now visible in her small black tank top. Though she'd been around here long enough now, I realized suddenly that I'd never seen her bare arms until this moment. Her skin was as pale as Jughead's, and looked smooth and soft as it practically glowed under the cheap bulbs that hung overhead. To my slight surprise, the majority of her right arm was covered in an intricate tattoo. Blood red roses and nautical stars weaved artfully around her bicep, ending near the crook of her elbow. Over her left shoulder I saw the petals of a more realistic looking flower peeking up from under the thin straps of her shirt.
“You know I, take it back”, Bea's voice broke me out of my thoughts.Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts and cleared my throat uncomfortably. “I will absolutely judge you if you back out now”.
I laughed genuinely, but the sound was caught in my throat as I watched her effortlessly sink the blue and red balls one after the other. She noted my shock, and the look of barely contained glee that overtook her features only fueled the gaping look I'm sure was on my face. She swiftly made her way around the table and sidled up near me to line up her next shot.
“Where'd you learn to play like that?”, I demanded, tone a little more harsh than I intended. Bea chuckled as she leaned over the table.
“Shocking isn't it?”, she quipped. Her voice was even, but I could practically feel the way her words dripped with sarcasm and contempt.
“It's almost as if you aren't the only one who grew up in dingy bars learning to play”, she continued, eyes trained on the game in front of us. “Seems for all your big talk you never even considered the fact that you don't actually know the first thing about me”.
I stood dumbfounded as I watched her masterfully sink yet another shot; she now had five of her stripes to my three. I crossed my arms petulantly across my chest as I watched her stand up to her full height and cast me a smile that could only be described as a smirk. I’d honestly hadn’t worried about the possibility of losing a game in years; it was time to start playing dirty. Shaking my head, I walked slowly over to stand just behind the blonde girl, vehemently ignoring the way my heart rate increased at the sight of her plump ass bent over in such close proximity to my body.
“Oh and I suppose you know all about me, huh doll?”, I replied quietly, voice bordering on a whisper and lips so close to the shell of her ear that I was certain she could feel the heat of my breath on her. To my extreme satisfaction, I felt a shiver run through every inch of Bea’s body as I spoke, and I couldn’t prevent the devious smirk that overtook my face in response. She over-shot her next move, sending the green ball flying wide from it’s intended pocket. A feeling I could only describe as pride coursed through my body like a crashing river as I watched the Jones girl straighten up and felt the way her strong form tensed even more after she realised her shot. The feeling dissipated as quickly as it’d come once she turned an about face and was suddenly toe to toe with me. Blood rushed to my neck and face as I realized with a start just how close we currently were. Round face mere inches from my own, I could feel every breath she took and I was immediately drawn into her gaze. Her eyes were like two deep, emerald pools of emotion boring into my own dark hues; her expression was placid, unreadable, but the way her chest rose and fell with each breath betrayed her irritation and interest in our encounter.
“So that’s how we’re gonna play this, huh?”, she practically purred, lips mere centimeters from my own. As palpable electricity coursed between us like a current, a part of me was overcome with the urge to slam her body further into the table behind her and close the gap between our lips. Another, more rational part of me was practically screaming to ignore this urge at all costs and to turn tail and run.
Thankfully, the majority of my brain was currently in too much of a state of shock to act upon either impulse, and I merely ended up frozen in place. Mind racing in overdrive, I attempted to short through the virtual tornado of feelings and thoughts that ran through my brain in order to figure out a response that I wouldn’t end up regretting later. Hoping, somewhat futilely, that Bea couldn’t sense my internal struggle I wound up simply smirking not-so-innocently at the girl in front of me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about sweetheart”, I responded as casually as I could manage, face never backing away any further from hers. “But I do believe it’s my shot”.
Still mere inches from my own, I watched and held my breath as two of the most intriguing almond shaped eyes I’d ever seen narrowed slightly before Bea’s face broke out into a look of such pure sin that I felt a shiver of electricity pulse through my entire body. She slunk out of the cage created by the edge of the table and my own body lightly and moved to stand on the other side.
“Big mistake Sweets”, I vaguely heard her retreating form mutter as I fought to return my pounding heart rate back to some semblance of a normal rate.
I seriously needed to get a grip. I never let girls get to me like this, or anyone really for that matter. Typically I was totally in control in these types of situations; understanding how to push just the right buttons to get the reactions I wanted while remaining wholly disinterested myself was a skill I’d perfected over the years, but it was a skill that it seemed I'd completely lost today. To my endless frustration, ever since I’d met Bea that day at school any semblance of control or dominance I had over a situation or even my own thoughts had been completely absent. More and more as I interacted with Bea my mind had only been able to draw one coherent thought.
I was fucked.
In a last ditch effort to conceal my inner struggle, I simply bent over the table and I lined up a relatively easy shot and sunk another ball.
“Really though, where did you learn to play like that?”, I asked casually, hoping my obvious curiosity was at least somewhat masked. My eyes were trained on the game in front of me, hoping it seemed like I was absentmindedly looking for my next play.
“When Johnny moved me away he was even less of a father than he was here if you can believe it”, she answered, voice practically dripping with poorly concealed contempt. “I ditched him pretty early on, and I needed to find some way to make money. So, after years spent in places like this, I figured using my age and cute little innocent face to my advantage was the quickest way to get some cash”.
“So you hustled people for money?”, I concluded, gaze finally locking back with hers. She smiled deviously once more before shrugging. I couldn’t help the rush of emotions that flooded me with just this one simple admission; anger at the insinuation of the realities of her childhood, amusement at the obvious way she’d come to be so good at pool, and strangest of all a sense of pride in her skills and the way she'd come about them.
“ As I'm sure you can imagine the necessity of winning certainly helped me learn quickly” she finished. Her tone was nonchalant, but I could almost feel the desperation that laced her words. Underneath her tough attitude still lay a frightened little girl who didn't know where her next meal was coming from. I was a little taken aback at the fierce urge to protect the blonde girl in front of me. Clearly she could take care of herself, but I couldn't help the surge of possessiveness I felt after the small glimpse into her upbringing.
“Makes sense”, I muttered as I leaned back over the table to line up another shot. Confidence swelling as it normally did when I played, I readied a snarky remark as I prepared to tie our scores. The comment never came; the words died in my throat as my eyes met the most jarring thing I'd ever seen and my shot missed its target by inches.
Bea was casually leaning forward on the table, elbows resting comfortably on the edge. The thin fabric of her tank top was noticeably lower than when we'd started, revealing more of her soft flesh than my eyes had ever been fortunate enough to see before. Her chest was pressed up against her arms, and the resulting attention drawn to her ample cleavage left me unable to look anywhere else. Any option of my expression remaining even close to impassive immediately flew out the window. Her strong features were practically oozing sex; green eyes sparkling with amusement and an emotion I couldn't quite place, and her cheeks were flushed with a delicious pink tint that only enhanced her already rosy complexion. In that brief moment as I was taken aback the small part of me that had been urging me to whisk her away and claim her as mine overcame me, and it nearly overpowered the rational part of my brain that'd succeeded thus far at keeping the Jones girl at arms length. My palms became clammy, and heat rushed to every inch of my body.
With great effort, I managed to tear my gaze away from the girl and straighten up to my full height. Bea smirked once more, eyes locked with mine as she gauged my reaction.
“Problem Sweets?”, she grinned. Her body oozed amusement and pride as she snickered, but my mind couldn't help but note that she was still bent over the table.
Still dazed, the realization of the obvious way she was manipulating me slowly entered my consciousness. I was certain I was going to be annoyed later, but currently I couldn't be bothered with any thoughts that didn't involve the girl in front if me or my desperate attempts to bring myself back to reality. To my vague embarrassment, I was sure it was evident just how much I was at a complete loss.
“What the fuck”, I muttered, shaking my head in another attempt to clear the fog that had invaded my brain.
“Sure you don’t want to back out Pea?”, Bea’s voice broke through the lingering jumble of thoughts running through my mind. Evidently Bea had taken full advantage of my momentary lack of attention and had already sunk another shot. Just as I’d predicted, a wave of irritation coursed through me as the realization of just how effortlessly she’d played me hit me like a truck. If her smug expression was any indication, Bea knew it too. What had I gotten myself into?
Choosing to stay silent, I simply crossed my arms and glared at her. Bea snickered lightly as she sunk her final stripe and poised herself to shoot the 8-ball in for her win. I rolled my eyes and mentally prepared myself for the vicious taunts and jabs that I was sure she was formulating for her victory.
Never one to do what I expected, Bea surprised me by standing up slowly from her stance and circling the table as she moved closer to me. Her face was marginally softer than previously, and she finally stopped when she was only an arm’s length from me.
“Just so we’re clear, when I win”, she began only to be cut off by my scoff. She raised an eyebrow at my obvious irritation, but paused only momentarily before continuing.
“When I win, you are going to stop with the whole ‘Northside vs. Southside’ bullshit yeah?”, she finished, long arms coming to cross in front of her chest and eyebrow still quirked with curiosity. I rolled my eyes once more, annoyance radiating from my every pore.
“Games not over yet doll”, I practically growled. Now it was Bea’s turn to roll her eyes. Her mouth opened slightly, no doubt about to speak a snappy retort, so I quickly finished. “But that was the deal yeah. I won’t bring it up anymore. While you’re around anyways”.
Seemingly satisfied, the blonde beauty nodded curtly once.
“Okay. So if a game of pool gets me out of that, then what do I have to do to get you to drop the whole brooding, ‘I don’t trust anyone’ facade?”, she breathed lightly, emerald eyes locking with mine once more. Gone were the sparks of amusement and smug pride; all that remained was a look of such hopeful sincerity that it stole whatever smartass comment I had prepared.
“Cause I don’t know if you got the message or not, but I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. So I think it’d make both of our lives easier if we could just be friends”, she finished.
“You really want to be around me that bad, huh sweetheart?”, I smirked, chuckling at the flash of annoyance that crossed her soft features momentarily before her face returned to it’s previous gentle expression.
“You wish”, she giggled. “But seriously Pea, what’s it gonna take to get you to relax around me?”.
I exhaled tensely through my nose as my mind raced with a number of possible replies. I could always go with my usual sarcastic deflection like my rational brain wanted. Or, I could man up and tell Bea the reality of how I felt about getting to know her better like the ever growing part of me wanted to do. Truthfully, when Bea had first barged her way into my life it’d been relatively easy to keep my distance, but with each passing day it became harder for me to remind myself of all the reasons I was trying to keep her out of my life. She’d wormed her way into Toni and Fangs’ trust, and each time she’d made an appearance my rationale for disliking her seemed more and more flimsy. Certainly she fit in better than with us than her poser of a cousin. Admittedly, I thought Bea was pretty okay to be around; she’d proven herself to be funny, sarcastic, laid back, and more down to earth than I’d originally predicted, and even I had to admit that I genuinely enjoyed having her around. More so than I’d ever willingly admit out loud.
Not really ready to tell Bea any of that and unsure of what to say, I opened my mouth to respond and was abruptly (and mercifully) cut off by the sudden entrance of a certain beanie-clad asshole. I scoffed loudly in contempt.
“Looks like this Northsider is lost”, I spat. Bea’s head snapped to mine and I shrugged as I sent a smirk in her direction.
“Sorry doll, old habits die hard”, I drawled, amused.
Bea rolled her eyes at me, but the way the corners of her plump lips quirked upwards clued me in that she was more amused than she let on. I chuckled at her reaction in such a fond way that I was a little annoyed at myself for letting my guard down.
“Jug, what’re you doing here?”, she questioned. His eyebrows furrowed deeper and I had to stop another scoff threatening to escape.
“I could ask you the same thing”, he shot back, clearly displeased with his cousin’s presence in the Wyrm. This time I couldn’t help but grunt with irritation. Bea belonged here more than he did. Evidently, she felt the same; her face twisted into an adorable scowl and her arms came to rest across her chest once more.
“I literally hang out here everyday Jug”, she snapped. “You on the other hand avoid this place like the plague, so again I ask, what’re you doing here?”.
“I’m over being half a serpent”, he replied more calmly than before.
“Wow”, I snapped, interrupting the two. “You will do anything to protect your Northside buddies”.
“What the fuck does that even mean Jug?”, Bea questioned, ignoring me and staring her cousin down with a look of such anger that I was almost feeling bad for Jones. In the past weeks I'd been on the receiving end of one of Bea's furious stares on more than one occasion, and I'd learned quickly that it was not a safe place to be.
“It means I wanna stand with you guys “, Jughead replied, locking eyes with Bea briefly before looking around to the other members who’d gathered by now to watch their interaction. “My father was a Serpent. He led you”.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes in irritation. So just because his dad was a Serpent he thought he could just become one himself? He didn’t care about becoming a Serpent, he just wanted to make his life and his Bulldog friends’ lives easier. Finding that the crowd of fellow serpents were not in agreement with his sentiment, I watched as Jughead internally shifted his argument before speaking up once more.
“Tall boy is the one who gave me this jacket”, he continued, pointing out the older man in defiance. “It’s time I finally start wearing it”.
“You stupid fuck”, Bea muttered, shaking her head in disgust. I couldn’t help but find myself feeling slightly proud and pleased that she seemed to be on the same page as me. Bea wasn’t a serpent, but she was miles fucking closer than Jughead.
“So”, Tall Boy drawled, finally entering the conversation from where he stood at a nearby pool table. “Now you wanna be a Serpent ,huh? Let’s see if you survive the initiation first”.
To his credit, Jughead stood his ground as the older man approached, and his expression remained stoic at his insinuation. At some point, Bea had ended up much closer to me than before, and I could feel the way her body shook with what I assumed was anger. A glance over to her round face only confirmed this assessment; her previously gentle features were now stoney and cold, cheeks flushed with a red color that was different than that during our game, and her hands were balled up across her chest so tightly I was borderline concerned for her circulation. I reached a hand before my brain could even catch up with the action, and rested my palm against her bare shoulder in silent support in an effort to calm the angry girl. Bea’s face snapped up, wild green eyes meeting mine before softening marginally.
“He’s a god-damned moron. He has no interest in you guys, I don’t know what his game is”, she muttered echoing my earlier thoughts. The spots where the pads of my fingers and palms met the impossibly smooth skin of her shoulder tingled with almost painful sparks of electricity. Her skin had looked soft from afar, but I could've never imagined it to feel like this. To my unexpected delight, Bea didn't draw back from my touch, but rather leaned backwards so her back was more solidly attached to my front. A wave of heat rushed through me as my brain finally registered the actions my body had taken and my face flushed with what I was certain was an embarrassing flush of color.
“Bea…”, I murmured, racking my brain to think of something, anything to say that would lessen the beautiful girl's obvious annoyance.
“It's fine Pea. But I'd better go talk to him. Or rather go smack some sense into that beanie holder he calls a brain”, she quipped lightly, turning to face me fully. My hand fell from her body lamely and returned to my side, small ghosts of electricity still stinging here or there as it did so. I cleared my throat and rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly.
“And you don't have to worry about it”, I blurted out, mouth seconds faster than my brain was processing. Bea's thick brows furrowed slightly before raising one in confusion.
“Worry about Jughead?”, she snorted. “Please, he won't make it past the threshold without getting an earful from me, you can count on that”.
I barked out a chuckle at the mental image of the spitfire in front of me squaring up with her comparatively taller cousin, sure that she would intimidate the living hell out of him regardless. I'd pay to see Jones taken down a peg, and having Bea be the one to do it would be hilariously satisfying.
“Uhm yeah no, I mean about me”, I cleared my throat again uneasy feeling returning to me with full force. Bea's brows remained furrowed as she waited patiently, clearly wanting me to continue.
“I just...you're alright Jones. I'll try not to give you so much shit”, I finished lamely, pulse racing for reasons unknown. Expression morphing from confusion to something I couldn't quite place, Bea's face eventually broke out into an ear splitting grin.
“Alright?”, she giggled, eyebrow squirming up once more, this time in accusation. Ignoring the way my stomach flipped at her adorable look of happiness, I rolled my eyes.
“Don't make me regret this Bea”, came my sarcastic reply. Bea chuckled.
“Oh I'm absolutely going to make you regret it Sweetest Pea”, she murmured lowly. Stomach dropping low in my body, I felt my entire body tense at her words, though not in fear, but rather in some kind of anticipation. There was some kind of undercurrent to her simple statement that was sending my nerves into a tailspin, and fuck if the way she was looking right now didn't do things to me. Her eyes had somehow darkened from an emerald to a deep mossy green, and she peered up at my face through her fan of dark lashes. I felt my mind immediately go blank as she peered upwards and our eyes locked.
She was the first to break our staring contest after what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds in reality. She turned and began to walk away before stopping abruptly. She smirked deviously before leaning back over the table just in front of me, ass sticking out more inches from me, and sinking her final ball, effectively finishing our game.
“Almost forgot”, she whispered lowly, smirking in my face, clearly amused by my dumbfounded expression. She wiggled her fingers as if to say goodbye before finally walking away, presumably to go find Jughead.
I let out a breath I hadn't even known I was holding, and unconsciously leaned against the pool table for support. I wasn't entirely sure what'd just happened, but I knew without a doubt that something had fundamentally changed. I found myself shaking my head to myself once more as I wondered silently what the fuck I'd just gotten myself into.