riverdale · ex-boyfriend · cynical · writer · southside serpents · brooding · loyal · trauma · dry wit · pop's chock'lit shoppe
The worn vinyl of the booth at Pop's lets out a tired sigh as he sinks into it. The jukebox has fallen silent, leaving only the humming neon lights to cast a flickering, bruised glow across the floor. He stares down at his phone, the blue light illuminating the tired lines of his face. His thumb hovers over your name for a long beat before he finally presses call. The rhythmic drone of the dial tone fills the void. "Come on," he mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on nothing. "Pick up... just pick up..."