Being kind and gentle.
To Tweek, they were words to live by.
Show the world the kindness of your heart. Touch the nature we're blessed to witness with gentle fingers.
His Grandmother was always one for words of wisdom, with her best and last one being something along the lines of,
'when you see a loved one crying, you listen. You take care of them, and you love them. So if you're ever in the position where your heart is crying, you listen to it, you take care of it and you love it, because nobody loves you more than your body. Your body serves to protect you, so in return - we must also protect it.'
He wondered why memories of his Grandmother were only now coming to mind, as he sat at the edge of his bed beside Craig. He wondered what relevance they had to his predicament with the sleeping boy, if there was any at all. Or maybe he was just missing her.
She'd know exactly what to say to help him get through this. He blinked away the tears as he imagined her sitting beside him. Her hands holding both of his in between her own as she knowingly smiled. He could faintly remember the scent of her perfume, like a lavender garden filled with roses. He could barely remember what it felt like to be in her embrace, as her soft voice graced his ears. He imagined she'd wipe away his tears with the pad of her dry thumb, gently tucking pieces of hair behind his ears before saying something like,
'every moon needs time to make it's orbit, and while it does, we can only be patient and wait for it to return'.
She was always cryptic when she spoke of her juju, yet he clung to every word, and as years passed since her death, he still found himself desperately wanting to add more to his memory. To hear her voice once again, because he could no longer remember the soft tone she spoke in. He could no longer recall the pitch of her voice, or the faint accent that seeped through her every word.
Sighing, he shrugged his backpack off his shoulder, allowing it to fall onto the bed beside him. He looked down to his scuffed shoes, kicking at the laundry crumbled on his floor. Inhale, Exhale. It seemed Tweek had been reminding himself of those two simple words rather a lot recently. To remember to breathe, or else he'd sit in silence, unknowingly running out of oxygen until his chest felt tight.
His chest always felt tight these days. Full of stress and worry, though he'd never tell his parents so. They seemed to think medication was the answer to everything, that every problem in the world could be tamed by a prescription of pills, to be swept under the rug and to never be heard of again. He'd never tell them about the tingling anxiety that ran through every vein in his body, or how tight his muscles tensed whenever there was a knock at the door. He'd never tell them of the heaviness of his tongue as he stands in a room crowded by the faces of people he sees everyday, or the nausea he'd feel when spoken to, because nobody cares about these things unless it directly affects them. Nobody wants to deal with someone else's reality when they have their own lives to live.
'It's not that bad, you'll get over it.' But how can you get over something that affects your ability to speak? How do you subside the trembling. or the itching dread that follows you around like a dark cloud above your head? 'Take some Zoloft, talk to a counsellor.' But what if they change you into someone you're not? Altering your personality into a person you no longer recognise. What if talking about it no longer helps? The rehearsed sentences they tell you are no longer of any use.
Thoughts aside, Tweek shuffled away as Craig began to stir awake, groaning tiredly as his eyes slid open, only to be attacked by the sunlight. Strands of black hair contrasted as a bright patch shone past the curtains, while admiring green eyes watched from the sidelines.
Tweek couldn't stop himself, but to adore the way Craig stretched out with a dramatic yawn, like a bear waking up from hibernation to see the first day of summer. He couldn't help but find it adorable as Craig's head turned from left to right as he came to terms with his surroundings. He couldn't even find it within himself to be mad about the patch of dribble on his bedsheets as Craig rubbed his eyes, only for his blues to peer back at Tweek.
The moments following were, to say the least, awkward, because as they stared back at one another, neither knowing what to say, with time ticking the longer they waited, it only made things worse. Tweek's lips parted, dry around the corners as he attempted to speak, only his throat was closed and his mind said no. Craig looked off to the side, swallowing thickly as he made the first move.
He cleared his throat, continuing to look at the window in hopes to save himself from this nerving ora. "Um, morning."
It speaks! But now it was Tweek's turn to find his voice, though, after pushing himself up from the bed and shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his voice came out as more of a rasp as he gave a short 'morning' in return. His cheeks were flushed as he looked to the door, furrowing his eyebrows at his ungainly behaviour. "We're going to... you're going to be late for school..."
"Fuck." Craig muttered as he regarded Tweek with a short glance, before tossing the covers from himself, dragging himself up before scooping his hat from the floor that must've fallen off during his sleep. "Why didn't you wake me?"
A shrug was his reply. The blonde hooking his fingers around the straps of his backpack as he slung it over his shoulder, looking back to the noirette expectedly, as if to say, 'leave'. Swayed or not by Tweek's attitude, Craig disregarded him, instead he pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, fully aware he still hadn't received any messages from his parents. Fuck it. "We should talk." He breathed the words as if they were the hardest to say, though Tweek only raised a weary eyebrow for the longest time. He sure knew how to add to an uncomfortable situation.
"About what?"
"You know exactly what."
"Okay." Tweek nodded, again dropping his backpack to the floor, folding his arms as he turned to Craig. "So talk."
"Oh, um..." Craig drawled. He'd expected Tweek to have started the conversation, that way he could just follow up from there. He had no idea how to address the matter. There seemed to be a lot they had to talk about, yet nothing came to mind as he stood all dumb like in the middle of Tweek's bedroom. "Fuck, I don't know where to start."
"How about the day you left me at the lockers, after I told you I liked you." Said Tweek, further flushing with embarrassment, though he was so ready to have it out with Craig that he didn't care. "Or the day after when you ignored my texts and calls? Oh! What about all of the disgusted looks you sent my way, or the plain avoidance?"
Craig huffed with annoyance, his jaw tightening as he looked away from Tweek, hearing the bitterness in the blondes words. So it was going down like that, huh. "What did you expect?" His voice raised beyond its usual monotone, almost startling Tweek. "You just dropped that shit on me in the middle of school, without any warning!"
"I'm sorry, did you want some warm up exercises before?"
"Yeah, maybe." Craig uselessly flapped his arms at his sides with frustration as sat on the edge of the bed. "How was I supposed to react?"
"It wasn't your reaction that bothered me. I knew it was a lot to take, but afterwards, once you'd cooled down, we should've talked! We shouldn't have left it so long. Jesus Christ, we're supposed to be best friends!"
"Best friends don't have feelings for each other, Tweek."
"Maybe you're right." Tweek nodded. "Maybe they don't, but for some reason I do—I did. And I don't know why."
"So you don't anymore? Shit, I, I can work with that." But when Craig looked to Tweek, who's eyes were forcefully focused on the wall opposite him, avoiding all eye contact, with his throat bobbing up and down repeatedly, it was all Craig needed for an answer. "You still do."
It was hard to keep composed with Craig just sitting there watching him. It was hard to calm his wobbling knees and the shaking hands at his sides. He exhaled deeply, his head hung low as he paced back and forth, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. "I don't - I don't know." He admitted quietly.
Running a hand through his hair, Craig sighed, trying to figure a way around this little problem of theirs, but if Tweek had feelings for him, they weren't just going to go away. After all, who knows how long they've been manifesting. Did Tweek himself even know? "On a scale of one to ten, how deep are the feels?"
Tweek's head snapped around, his hair falling across his forehead as he furrowed his brows once again. "What?"
"One being low, ten being high."
"I know how the scale works, goddamnit!" Tweek snapped, halting all movement as he stared back at Craig, pondering how deep his feeling really were. His eyes raked the thick mess of hair on top of Craig's head, lowering to his face, to his eyes that curiously watched Tweek. He thought about Craig's boring voice that somehow never failed to relax him, or the subtle gestures he'd receive whenever he was freaking the fuck out. He wondered if Craig would still be so caring towards him after all of this, would he still shield him from the careless students that bulldozed their way down the hallways? Would Craig hold onto Tweek's sleeve when they're surrounded by darkness in an empty street, that scared him so much his legs refused to move? Would Craig still help him move?
He wanted to punch himself in the stomach at the way it involuntarily flipped just by taking a slight glance at the noirettes lips, but Craig was still watching and that would be weird. It was the impatience of Craig's fingers tapping against the bed that caused Tweek to pull on the ends of his hair, looking away as he breathed out his answer. "I don't know! Eight? Nine?" Ten.
It only took a moment for Craig to process this information, before he gently nodded, despondently looking out of the window as he tugged his hat over his hair. "That's pretty deep."
"Yeah? No shit."
"Look, maybe we just need to get you laid or something." Craig suggested, ignoring the look of horror Tweek was wearing. "Or set you up with someone from school. There's a bunch of other gay kids there."
"Jesus Christ! No!"
"Alright calm down, Tweek. I said maybe."
"I don't want to date anyone!"
"Except me?" Craig raised an eyebrow.
"Ngh - no!" It was almost comical how much Tweek was blushing by this point, it wasstanding out more with his light hair. He turned around, no longer wanting to face Craig who had been looking at him as if he didn't believe him. It was only then, in the moment Tweek was finding something to distract himself with, that he looked at his phone, his eyes widening when he realised the time. "We're late!"
"What?"
"Were late for school! Move, we need to go! Jesus Christ, everyone's going to stare at me walking into class late!"
Rolling his eyes, Craig pulled himself from the bed, watching as Tweek grabbed his bag and raced out of his bedroom, leaving the door to hit against the wall, but he didn't care. To make things worse for the blonde, Craig had decided to walk down the stairs as slowly as possible, taking one step at a time, while Tweek shouted at him from the bottom, yelling at him to hurry up though, it seemed this only amused Craig more.
"Ditch with me."
"I can't ditch school! My mom will slaughter me!"
Tucking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, Craig exited the house, not pausing as he stalked down the street to his own house. He a little surprised that Tweek was actually trailing behind. "You're overreacting."
"No, I'm not!" Tweek retorted as he fell into step with Craig. The wind blowing through his tangled hair as a school bus passed them. "Where are you going? Schools that way."
"I'm going home to shower and brush my teeth." Craig flatly replied, his eyes trained in front of him as he ignored Tweek's constant staring. "Is that okay with you?" He mocked.
"Whatever. I'll eh... see you around?"
"Yep." The monotone reply was all Tweek needed to change his direction, spinning on the heal of his shoe as he backtracked down the road they'd just walked down, putting distance between himself and Craig.
He forced himself to breathe, as mentioned before, he forgets from time to time. He wrung his hands, crossing the street as he thought about the strange feeling that Craig left him with. He wasn't distraught like the other times Craig left him. It was more like relief. They'd finally made some progress, even if it was a small amount, but it was still something. And for the first time in weeks, he felt as though things could only get better from here on out.