Blind Love

So Naked

"Your knife wound's not infected, so that's a good thing," Veronica inspected Jughead's injured abdomen by gently touching the wound.

Their captors had given them gauze to wrap around the wound after Veronica's negotiation with them.

Jughead had almost laughed at how many question marks had popped up above their captors' heads when a fiery little Latina had shot them a hundred reasons why they should treat Jughead's wound. He figured they gave them gauze just to shut her up.

"Veronica Lodge can talk anyone into doing anything," Jughead chuckled, flicking his hair away from his face. He had stopped wearing the beanie after getting used to Veronica pulling it off every ten seconds.

"You have nice hair. You shouldn't hide it under that beanie," she commented.

"This hat," he dramatically pointed to his crown-shaped beanie. "Prevents the ladies from swooning over me."

"Jughead, you know you don't need the hat to keep ladies away, right?" Veronica cackled. "This," she motioned to all of Jughead blindly, as she still had her eye mask on. "Is already doing the job well enough."

Jughead scowled at Veronica, then sulkily snarked. "If we were the last two people on the planet—"

"You still wouldn't like me," she cut in, rolling her eyes. "Real mature, Jughead, real mature."

"Why do you wear that beanie anyway?"

Jughead raised an eyebrow at her unexpected question. No one had actually asked him why.

"My grandfather was a factory worker, they were called jagheads back in his time. He wore a whoopee cap, which was really popular when he was young, and when I was born, I'd keep pulling his cap off and playing with it to the extent I'd cry if he tried to take it away from me. That's probably part of the reason why I'm called Jughead," he explained.

His heart pounded in his chest. This was the first time he had shared that with someone, and he felt extremely naked in front of Veronica Lodge. He waited for the scorn to appear on her perfect face, yet her lips curled up in a sincere smile instead.

"So he made you a new one and you've been wearing it everyday since?"

Jughead laughed in both relief and amusement. "Funny story, he actually had to make several of these beanies, each one bigger than the last, for me, since I kept growing and growing. He's made me four in total. I still have it in my drawer at home, and this one I'm currently wearing was the last gift from him before he passed."

What had started on a light note had ended in a heavy tone.

"Jughead, I'm sorry," Veronica placed her hand on his knee. " My abuelo passed a few years ago too."

"Do you miss him?"

"I do, it felt like he and abuela were the ones who brought me up more than my real parents.
Although even young me could see they were harsh and strict to my parents, they were always extremely loving to me. They gave me what I needed to grow as a child, instead of expensive materials my parents thought I needed," she swallowed nervously.

To Jughead, Veronica looked even smaller than she already was in this light. She was biting her lip, as if she was overwhelmed by the information she had just let out.

"My parents divorced when I was twelve. My grandfather's death had driven my dad to turn to alcohol, which was mainly the cause of their marriage's demise," he said softly, empathising with his companion.

"I feel so naked," Veronica suddenly burst out.

"You feel so naked?" he confusedly repeated, glancing at the Serpent jacket he had let her wear, as their captors had taken away what was left of her torn dress.

"Soul naked," she explained. "Like you've gone past the barriers and you're staring straight into my soul—no, not staring, it's like you're completely inside and exploring."

He was silent for a moment. "In this small cell, even the smallest details are magnified."

"Yeah. It's scary but liberating at the same time. Physically, I'm confined in this cell, but mentally, I feel free! The weight on my shoulders feel lighter," Veronica let out a shy smile.

"I can see that," Jughead observed. Her originally tense and guarded posture had become relaxed and open.

"But I can't!" She exclaimed, reaching out to flick him on the arm.

"Ow! That was my face!" Jughead grabbed her hand, pushing it away.

He had almost forgotten that Veronica literally couldn't see with her eye mask on. Speaking of which, Jughead wondered why she was still keeping it on in the dark. He was just about to ask when the creak of the cell door prevented him from doing so.

A bam and a scream!

Jughead's head throbbed as he felt the cold surface of the floor on one side of his cheek and a burning sting on the other cheek.

He barely had any time to recover when the second blow came. This time, his ear slammed hard against the dirty floor.

"Stop!" Veronica cried, trying to yank the burly man away from Jughead.

Even with her black belt in karate, she was no match to the large six foot tall man. With one powerful flick of his muscular arm, Veronica was sprawled across the floor.

"It'll be your turn soon, sugar, don't worry," the masked man snarled as he continued his violent assault on Jughead.

Veronica grimaced as a flare of pain shot up her arm that was just popped back into its socket a few days ago by Jughead. She ignored it as she got back up almost immediately and blindly threw herself in between the man and Jughead. 

"Stop! You're gonna kill him, and that's not what you want!" She panted as she used all her strength—not that there was much left due to lack of exercise and food in the confined space—to block his fists.

"V...let go!" Jughead hissed the moment he saw the man relax for a second.

The man broke free of her grasp, took her tiny hands in his giant ones and...

"Veronica!"

There was a loud crack before he let go of Veronica's now broken wrists. Stunned into silence, Veronica did not even scream as she held her wrists in front of her masked eyes.

"That'll be it for today," the man commented, satisfied. "Hope you two enjoyed the warm up."