"Pft, please. It only has like three strings." Craig said with another dismissal of the third 'helping-hands' group that Tolkien has shoved himself into.
"Four, actually." Tweek said, pulling the forgotten homework back in front of them. "Four different strings and plenty of chords." He picked up Craig's pencil and forced it back into his hand. "He can play literally any song. One time he played me the whole Twilight soundtrack."
Craig frowned as Tweek went on to explain all the different songs that Tolkien had played for him. He wouldn't say Tweek was swooning over Tolkien, but the thought that he is close to it because of the tiny instrument bothered him. It was a basic looking instrument and a just as basic dude. No reason to suddenly act like they were a music prodigy to throw your shirt at.
He was sure he could do the same thing that Tolkien did easily.
Craig started to work on his math again, trying to tune out the new topic of Tweek being serenaded by Tolkien. Thinking to himself about the small stringed instrument and its four strings and chords, whatever the fuck those are. "How hard could it be?" He mumbled to himself as he started to simplify yet another log.
---
"I'm marrying... Johnathan."
Tweek gave a gasp. "What! Johnathan hates you!" He grabbed the remote to fast-forward through the next ten minutes of what was going to be Blake crying because he wasn't picked as Jayla's fake husband. He kicked the blanket he had laid over himself off and onto the ground, feeling too bothered by the ending of the show to be cozy.
He sat up on his couch with a few flatus sounding noises being emitted from the pristine leather. Pulling his legs in from the ottoman where his feet were napping, without the blanket to protect his legs the air forced goosebumps out from underneath his skin. Thinking he could get himself a pair of sweats to cover his legs, but also thinking about the fact that if he left and came back his spot would be cold. He spent good time warming that spot, he's not leaving it. He raised his sweater to fit his knees underneath. Taking refuge from the cold there, even though a blanket was still within arms reach.
His phone pinged as he started watching Abby Lee Miller yell at seven year olds. Tweek raised an eyebrow at the sender. It was Craig, but it was also a Sunday. He would text for help sometimes, but never on a Sunday. He must be really desperate if he's trying to ask for help on the one day they don't see each other. Tweek opened the message and read.
Craig: Hey, can't work at home right now. Can I work at yours?
Tweek frowned.
Craig wasn't exactly the type to suddenly reach out for help like this, but maybe it was dire for him in the moment to get out. Plus some company wouldn't hurt. He hadn't had people over in a long time and would love a chance to use his melon baller he got for Christmas last year.
Tweek: Sure
---
Craig knocked on the door hesitantly.
He didn't want the door to open up to Tweak's parents and have to talk to them.
He never did well with parents when he had friends because everyone thought he caused havoc. Plus he never did well with parents in the community because he had left a string of broken hearts with their daughters and some of their sons. He definitely wasn't feeling up to more bad interactions today, he just wanted to have a calm moment to himself and do what was left of his homework.
Tweek answered the door with an excited smile, but was a little breathless as he answered the door. It was like he had sprinted to it as soon as he heard the knock. He was accompanied by a large bowl of balled fruit in hand and a few red and orange stains splattered over the front of his sweater. "Hey!"
Empty Spaces
Start from the beginning
