Imagine drawing Jughead while he sleeps.
You had been watching a movie with Jughead when you noticed that he had fallen asleep. His legs were across your lap, his face showing less worry than it ever did when he was conscious and his chest was rising and falling slowly. You switched off the movie, managed to maneuver yourself from under him and put a blanket over his chest, smiling softly at his lanky frame.
This was the perfect opportunity. Shy as always, Jughead didn’t like to be the center of attention and so getting him to sit still for you to draw him was impossible. This was the only chance that you would have. You got your bag and took out your supplies, settled in on a chair that was facing the sofa, and started to draw the outlines of Jughead’s face. The curly tufts of hair coming out from under the beanie, the narrow eyes, the perfect cupid’s bow of his lips and then the way that his fingers laid on his own shoulders.
“I told you not to draw me.” Jughead muttered while you were doing the shading.
“I’m not apologizing for art.”
