note:
i slept like shit and i have PE today so 🤭
you'll have to see how it ends I guess
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Tweek's POV
Clyde dragged me back to Craig's house. Tolkien had gone home, his parents were back and he was in trouble for leaving the house unattended. The second he let go of my wrists, I crawled to the sofa and curled up into a ball against it. Clyde crouched next to me, watching with weary eyes. I sobbed hysterically for what felt like hours until Clyde opened his arms and cradled me.
I tried to breathe deeply, filling my lungs with as much air as possible, but it wasn't working. The world was small around me. All I wanted was to hear the voice of my lover, feel his hands on mine, see his dark, mysterious eyes.
I just wanted him to come back to me.
I must've cried myself to sleep, because the next thing I remember is waking up on the sofa, swaddled in blankets. Clyde was buried on the other sofa. He acted like he was asleep but I could see the way his eyes shone, the tears falling down his cheeks. He hid under a blanket and sobbed, the sounds of his cries filling the room.
Whatever was left of my heart broke again. I felt tears prick my eyes. I let them slide down my face, falling onto the pillow beneath my head. I rolled onto my stomach, smothered myself in the pillow, and cried. Gut-wrenching, heart broken wails.
*
I woke late the next morning. Clyde was already awake, washed and dressed. He hadn't eaten yet, but no matter how much he protested, I forced him to choke down something. Once he was done, we headed to the hospital. The receptionist saw us, nodded and pointed us down the hallway.
"Third room on the left."
We trudged towards the room. I felt more nauseous with every step. I stopped outside the room, scared to go in, fearing the worst. Clyde stepped in first. He peered around the door, cautiously. I pressed myself against the wall, eyes shut, breathing deep. I felt someone tug my sleeve and peeled my eyes open. It was Clyde. His eyes were brimming with tears.
"Cmon. Come in dude."
I gulped, and grabbed onto his arm to stabilize myself. He led me around the door and into the room. My eyes were on the ground, I felt weak.
"Babe?"
*
HAHA CLIFFHANGER.
jk jk jk
im mean but not that mean
*
My eyes shot up. I was unsure if I had said it myself, made it up, or if it was actually the sound of my boyfriend. My eyes were met by his hazel ones. My eyes welled with tears. Good tears. Happy tears. I dropped Clyde's arm darted to my boyfriend. My hands cupped his face, his hands gripped onto my wrists. He tried to meet my gaze, but couldn't.
"Shit... Babe. I'm sor-"
"Don't you dare. Please."
He looked back at me, eyes darting around, tracing my features again. I heard the door creak as Tolkien peeked in. He absorbed the scene in front of him, then joined us, standing behind Clyde and wrapping his arms around his waist.
If I could, I would've taken a picture. I wanted to save this moment forever. I cannot even begin to explain how fucking greatful I was.
It was so fucking angelic.
For months, life was rough. Craig was discharged after a month. He was set up with a specialist therapist, someone who specialized with relapse and self harm.
Clyde and Tolkien stayed together. Clyde couldn't say sorry enough. As part of Craig's recovery, we all sat down and talked. We told each other truthfully and honestly what we felt, we set clear boundaries.
I progressively got better. I talked to some doctors, sought help, and eventually got better. I lost my stutter entirely, and with the help of my lover and best friends began to talk more and more.
Life was good.
Until it wasn't.
Craig's road to recovery was rocky. There were up and downs. Sometimes I wasn't sure we'd survive the downs. I got home one day in summer to find Craig wearing joggers. He didn't even try to hide the relapse from me. We called his therapist, I cleaned and bandaged his wounds and we slowly began rebuilding the bridge we'd made.
He was still really on and off. He spontaneously got a tattoo, but had nervous breakdowns when the schedule we'd made was messed up. Eventually, he was admitted to a psychiatric ward.
And that's it. That's the end. Craig got sent away. I stayed, lonely and depressed. Tolkien and Clyde tried, they really did, but it wasn't the same. My doctors tried over and over again. It just wasn't working.
So. This is the end.
Or is it just the start?