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Craig Tucker had never thought much of Tweek Tweak.
Well, they had gotten into that fight last year, and they hung out every once in a while after that, but they had never, ever been friends.
Yet those Asian boys still started drawing yuri of them.
Tweek and Craig had denied everything at first. Then, when that didn’t work, they staged a fake breakup. Which, surprisingly, also didn’t work. Tweek actually regretted the made-up accusations about the nonexistent Michelle, so she apologized. Craig hadn’t accepted at first, but eventually forgave Tweek. Their big debut was the act of holding hands while walking through town.
They weren’t dating, though. Everyone just thought they were.
Tweek and Craig agreed behind closed doors that neither of them were lesbians, but the town seemed dependent on their relationship, so they faked it. (Plus, people gave them money all the time.)
1
To sell their lie, they had to engage in PDA in public.
“We need to start small,” Craig explained, nasally voice even, as if she was talking about the weather, and not their elaborate plan to fool the entirety of South Park. “So let’s do exactly what we did last time. Just walk while holding hands.”
The blonde’s head twitches only slightly. “Urgh.. o-okay. But if my hands get s-sweaty, you have to tell me! And- and my hands are always shaking, so I’m sorry if - ack! - it gets annoying!”
Craig fixes her with a level look. “I held your hand for at least an hour the other day. You’re fine.”
“Well, well- yeah. But what if - ack! - I do something wrong this time?” the blonde girl’s shaking hands reach up to yank at the golden strands attached to her head, twisting and pulling like they personally wronged her.
Craig feels a weird tug in her chest at the sight.
“Woah, hey, I don’t think that’ll happen. Here, uh-” Craig hesitantly reaches her own hands out and places them atop Tweek’s in hopes to stop their attack.
The touch alone is enough to make the blonde’s hands still. Her eyes peek up at the other girl through wild bangs, wide blue eyes locked on Craig’s calm green. She squeaks out a quiet “Thanks?” and lets her grip loosen and start to fall.
Before Tweek’s hands can fall completely, Craig takes it upon herself to clasp her left hand with Tweek’s right hand. They’re successfully holding hands for the second time in their (fake) relationship, and the warm weight is enough to make the noirette’s lips quirk slightly in a smile.
(She could get used to this. Even though it’s fake. And she’s not a lesbian.)
Craig wipes the intruding smile off her face, resolutely ignoring the hot tingling in her cheeks enough to hop off her bed. Their connected hands make Tweek fall with her, though the blond is significantly less coordinated than she is. She would have fallen on her ass, but something in Craig instinctually reaches out to steady her (fake) girlfriend.
Tweek’s cheeks flush a light pink in embarrassment, eyes twitching and free hand uncontrollably hitting her thigh. Craig is worried for a second, but the other girl’s lack of reaction is enough to distract her.
The noirette takes one last glance down at their intertwined hands, takes a deep, calming breath, and begins to lead the blonde out of her room, down the stairs, out of her house, and down the street.
(True to Tweek’s prediction, her hands get sweaty. Craig’s do, too. They fix this problem by temporarily untangling their hands long enough to wipe their hands on their respective jeans. Their hands find each immediately after, and both are surprised by how familiar the contact already feels.)
2
“We should probably go on dates.”
“WHAT?”
Craig shrugs from her spot on the floor of Tweek’s room. “I mean, if we’re gonna make this believable, we should let people see us on dates every once in a while.”
Tweek doesn’t respond verbally, instead seething through her gritted teeth and smacking her fists roughly against her temples as she pulls her lips back in a snarl.
“Uh, sorry. We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” The noirette mutters, now thoroughly embarrassed at even suggesting the idea. She pulls the flaps of her hat further over her head in an attempt to hide behind it.
The blonde huffs a few more times and squeezes the empty coffee cup in her hand hard enough to crumple it.
Craig takes that as her cue to leave. She pushes herself to her feet, shrugs her abandoned backpack over her shoulder, and moves as silently as she can to the door to avoid disturbing her friend any more than she already had.
Just as she’s crossing through the doorway, a hand clamps down on her wrist and tugs, pulling her back into the room and forcing her to fall to her ass on Tweek’s bed. Craig cringes, knowing full well how much of a punch Tweek packs. Combined with her sudden anger, she’s sure to get beat to shit right now.
“Sit,” Tweek mutters, hands roughly scraping down her jeans. “And take your backpack off.”
Craig does as asked, shuffling backwards and shucking her backpack to the ground carelessly. “I really am sorry, Tweek. I just thought since the other couples do, we should, too. I mean, if you think it’s a bad idea-”
Tweek cuts her off by leaning forward and pulling Craig into a hug. The noirette freezes completely for a few seconds, but the blonde suddenly runs her hand slowly over Craig’s back in a comforting way, which (embarrassingly) makes her melt into the embrace.
Craig is so unbelievably confused. One second, the other girl is seething in anger, the next she’s squeezing her tight in a hug?
“I’m not angry. Um, -urgh- I was just surprised, I think?” Craig pulls herself away from the hug to study her friend’s face. The blond is fidgeting with her hands, eyes looking everywhere but Craig’s face.
Tweek continues, “I, I think I would like that. If you -ack!!- still want to? Just, I didn’t think anyone would ever want to be seen with me like that in public, fake or not.”
Craig honestly can’t see that. Sure, Tweek has a tic problem, but Craig actually thinks she’s very pleasant to look at. Gorgeous blue eyes, pure blonde hair, cute freckles, pretty lips..
Wait.
The noirette internally startles and cuts off that line of thinking entirely, instead choosing to pull her hat over her eyes. “I think it could be fun. Plus, I don’t give a shit what people think about me. Or us.” Craig lies. She would never admit it, but she truly does care about other people's opinions of her.
Tweek glances up with a cheeky smile. “Us?” She quotes, wiggling her eyebrows jokingly.
Craig blushes and pushes her friend away. “Fuck off! I was going to be nice and buy you McDonalds, but now I won’t!”
“Aw, don’t- don’t be like that! We can just ask my dad for money, he’ll give us like $50!” Tweek laughs, blue eyes crinkling and teeth flashing as she does. Craig never thought crooked teeth could look so appealing. God knows her’s aren’t.
(And wow, what is wrong with her? Craig has always been completely set on growing up alone and living by herself as a billionaire with no husband and a million guinea pig children. Now, though, she thinks she wouldn’t mind doing all of that with Tweek.)
The taller girl rolls her eyes for no good reason and hauls her ass onto her feet. She turns and offers her hand to Tweek, “Well, let’s go get that money. I’m hungry.”
(Later, at the restaurant, Tweek lifts her Sprite with a smile. “To our first date.”
Craig lifts her sweet tea and clinks the paper cups together. “To us.”)
3
“W-Will you - aah! - go to the dance with m-me?”
That is not what Craig was expecting to hear at 8AM on a Friday.
Tweek and Craig are currently standing in the hallway of the middle school by Tweek’s locker. The question hangs in the air, turning the very space around them thick with tension, and Craig can feel every pair of eyes on her, every halted conversation.
The blonde girl is smiling hopefully up at her fake girlfriend. To everyone around them, she must be the perfect picture of nervousness, the sweet girlfriend innocently asking her partner to a school dance.
Craig, however, can spot the tease in the pull to her lips, the amused glint in blue eyes.
Tweek knows Craig can’t say no. They’re the town’s star couple, after all.
The noirette can’t say no for other reasons, too, but Tweek certainly doesn’t need to know that. To tell the truth, over the years the two have been fake dating, Craig has become increasingly infatuated with Tweek.
Which is so, so cliche. And she hates it.
So, Craig does what everyone expects her to.
“Of course I’ll go with you, honey.”
-
Craig has made a severe mistake.
She is going to drop dead. Drop dead here in this uncomfortable navy blue dress as she waits for her date to finish getting ready upstairs.
Tweek’s mother flits around the kitchen, brewing coffee and tidying the room as she goes. Tweek’s father strolls through the front door, apparently tired of waiting in the car. He accepts a cup of coffee from his wife and sips it with a hum, flipping his wrist up to glance at his watch.
Craig takes a moment to privately hate Tweek’s parents. Their coffee tastes like shit, and they continually give it to their daughter, then complain about her paranoia and tics, as if they aren’t the cause. Plus, they say weird things, like-
“Y’know, Craig, you’re growing up to be a fine young lady. One day, you and Tweek will grow out of this and find yourselves some nice husbands to settle down with.”
The noirette side-eyes the man with a grimace, and checks her phone for the twentieth time in the last five minutes. She decides not to grace him with a response.
Finally, always Craig’s savior, Tweek hustles down the stairs in her matching dress, eyes lighting up when she catches sight of her date.
Craig’s breath hitches and she swears her heart stops for a good few moments.
Tweek looks like a damn angel. Her dress is forest green, her signature color. Her hair has been curled at the ends, and the loose rings bounce lightly as she descends. Her lashes are fuller than normal, lips pink and glossy.
She’s beautiful. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. And, not at all graceful.
Tweek trips on the last step, smile dropping in dread as she tumbles toward the ground.
Craig snaps out of her lovesick daze fast enough to dart forward just in time. In the process of steadying Tweek’s balance, Craig looks up and realizes that their faces are literal inches apart. Her ears go red as she pulls away with an apology, suddenly all too aware of the room’s other occupants.
Mr. Tweak clears his throat. “Finally. Are you two ready to go?”
Both nod awkwardly, and Craig swears she can see traces of a blush on her date’s cheeks. She doesn’t let herself think about it too much, as Tweek is probably just embarrassed from almost falling.
Craig may be a lesbian, but Tweek is not.
The ride to the school is awkward.
Mr. Tweak does his best to fill the silence with conversation, yet neither Tweek nor Craig feel like responding to his attempts. They arrive early, but Craig is desperate to get away from Tweek’s father, so she mutters a quick thanks and drags Tweek by the hand into the school.
Inside the gymnasium, it’s exactly what you’d expect a middle school dance to be like. There are cheap decorations everywhere, a shitty DJ, and a lousy table of food and drinks. The sound of shoes squeaking on the gym floor is enough to make Craig miss her familiar hat.
None of their friends have arrived yet, which means they kinda just stand around awkwardly for a few minutes, until Craig notices a machine in the corner. A photo booth.
She cringes at the thought of it, but she actually really wants to try it out with Tweek. Her gaze must linger for a little too long, as the blonde notices and follows her line of sight right to it. Tweek smiles deviously and pulls Craig along, ignoring the taller’s groaning.
Once inside the little room thing, Craig finds that she has no idea what poses to do. For the first picture, they only smile awkwardly. For the second, Craig holds up a pair of bunny ears behind Tweek’s head, and Tweek flips her off. For the last picture..
Craig has a lot of cliche thoughts. She thinks about how lovely it would be to kiss Tweek. She thinks about how crazy it would be to have a picture of their first kiss. She stares at her date for a little too long, just thinking about kissing her.
Her attention is pulled back toward the camera when it starts beeping in warning, signaling that the picture will be taken in a few short seconds. All she does is stare at the screen.
Tweek has a different idea. The blonde leans towards Craig at the last second and places a quick kiss on her cheek just as the camera flashes.
Craig turns her head to stare at Tweek. Then, she brings her hand up and places it gently on her cheek, exactly where her crush’s lips just were. Her face feels all tingly, like an allergic reaction. Or TV static.
The shorter girl giggles sweetly at Craig’s reaction, and drags her unresponsive ass out of the booth to collect their pictures. The noirette manages to shake herself awake in time to accept the picture strip handed to her and shove it in her bag.
She takes a look around, and finds that they were in the booth long enough for a good chunk of their classmates to arrive. Clyde, the dumbass, spots them immediately and drags both Jimmy and Tolkien in their direction.
Tweek lights up like the sun as their friends approach. Craig is relieved, as she now has a distraction from her overwhelmingly lesbian thoughts, all caused by one simple kiss on the cheek.
The small group of girls idly chat for most of the night, doing their best to stay as far away from the dance floor as possible. They have a small moment of solidarity with Stan’s group (minus Cartman, who is currently shaking her ass in the middle of the dance floor) when the two groups collide at the snack table.
Alas, Craig cannot avoid it forever.
The song switches suddenly to something slower, and people start flooding to the dance floor like moths to a flame. Clyde pulls Tolkien by the hand, who, in retaliation, pulls both Craig and Tweek along with them. Jimmy hobbles over with Timmy, though they stay further away from the middle.
Craig does not know how to dance. She informs her date of this fact. Tweek laughs. “I do.”
The shorter girl leads by intertwining their hands on one side, then places her hand on Craig’s side. The taller girl gently rests her hand on Tweek’s shoulder like the other couples in the room.
Now that they’re actually dancing, Craig realizes they’re kinda just slowly turning in a circle. She gets the hang of it after about a minute, but not without stepping on her date’s feet a few times.
Their faces are so close to each other. Craig is staring right into Tweek’s eyes, drinking in everything from the light freckles littering her face to the lopsided smile the girl sports. She can feel the warm breath on her face. But just as she’s slowly leaning closer to connect, the song untactfully switches right back to some annoying pop song.
The mood is effectively ruined.
The two pull away from each other with twin blushing faces and nervous chuckles. The girls all regroup by the photo booth, and they decide to try one last fun thing before ditching the dance.
That’s how six girls find themselves squished in the tiny box, all trying desperately to get in frame in time for the camera to flash. It goes about as well as one would expect.
Craig makes sure to triple check she has both photo strips from the booth before they leave. The two girls catch a ride with Tolkien’s dad back to Tweek’s place, luckily avoiding her parents, who must’ve gone out for the night.
They change out of their dresses and get comfortable in Tweek’s bed with Red Racer reruns playing on the TV, with some night time tea prepared by Craig for the both of them.
Tweek and Craig lie down not long after, both facing away from each other for a few long moments, until the noirette flips over. “I had fun tonight.” She mutters sleepily.
The blonde turns over too, smiling at the other girl. “Yeah? Me, me too.”
Craig chuckles a little deliriously. “I’m soooo happy.” She mumbles, contrasting her monotony.
“I’m soooo happy, too.” Tweek mimics, just as monotone.
Tweek is the first to fall asleep. Craig knows the exact moment it happens, because her usually irregular breathing turns peacefully smooth.
Craig uses the last of her energy to scoot closer to Tweek and brush her lips against her (fake) girlfriend’s forehead, then drifts peacefully into sleep as well, dreaming of a world where their relationship is real.
+1
They’re freshmen in high school when Craig has the worst scare of her life.
Tweek has been complaining of chest pain all morning. While Craig can admit that she complains a lot, this time she is actually worried.
The shorter girl has also been a thousand times more paranoid than usual in the past week, and since the start of class, Craig noticed that she looked confused more often than not.
School is over now, and Craig suggested they take a walk in the park in an attempt to calm her friend’s nerves. About halfway through their walk, Tweek mutters, “Hold on, -ack!!- my heart is, uh, iss beating really fast?”
Craig swiftly leads her to a bench and hovers worriedly over the blonde as she clutches at her shirt aggressively. Her breathing is more labored than normal, and Craig is suddenly sure that something is very wrong.
“Tweek, let’s go back to my place. We can get you some help there.” Craig stands, gently coaxing the other girl to stand with her.
When Tweek looks up, her eyes are cloudy. “..where?” She coughs, whipping her head around and looking at their surroundings with unseeing eyes. Shaky blue eyes land on worried green and melt. She slumps forward, murmuring, “Craig, I love y-”
And she crumples to the ground. Mostly.
Craig is able to catch her enough so that she doesn’t bang her head on the bench behind them, but other than that, Tweek is dead weight.
For the first time she can remember, the noirette well and truly panics.
She shakes Tweek’s shoulders roughly and manually opens her eyelids, but she gets no response. Nothing.
Somewhere in the rational part of her mind, a voice tells her to turn Tweek on her side to keep her airways clear. She does so, and though the blonde continues taking pained, heaving gasps, they seem easier.
The less rational part of her mind is yelling oh god, Tweek is dying. Tweek is going to die and Craig will have to live with herself knowing she never confessed. Her best friend in the entire world, the only person that knows her better than herself is laying on the floor struggling to breathe, and all she can do is stand there and hyperventilate.
Somewhere beyond the chaos in her mind, Craig’s hands fumble for her phone and dial the emergency line. She sobs out their location to the operator and demands they send an ambulance now.
The girl sobs over Tweek’s shuddering form for what feels like hours, hands fluttering to check her pulse every few seconds because she’s worried it’ll stop.
That’s how the paramedics find them, Craig’s shaking hand grasping Tweek’s still one in a pathetic form of irony. She refuses to let go, even as the paramedics lift the unconscious girl onto a stretcher and load her into the back of the ambulance.
They must take pity on her miserable form, because they let her stand by her friend’s side the entire ride to Hell’s Pass. They fit her with an oxygen mask and monitor her vitals, as well as some other technical stuff that Craig doesn’t recognize.
All she knows is she’s kicked out of the ambulance when they arrive and told to sit in the waiting room, but she ignores them and follows Tweek all the way to her newly designated hospital room. She would follow Tweek to the ends of the Earth, don’t they understand that?
Craig forces her way into the hospital room and into a seat with several mean looks and many middle fingers. She must be quite the sight, all bristled edges but sad eyes and tear stained cheeks. Maybe that’s why the hospital workers are letting her get away with this. Or they don’t want to mess with the town’s only out lesbian couple.
Nurses try prying personal information out of her, but she refuses to cough up anything besides the details of Tweek’s collapse. Most, if not all people from South Park know who they are. They should be able to figure it out.
Craig sits by Tweek’s side for hours, and clutches Tweek’s right hand with both of her’s. The nurses and doctors run tests around her, collecting blood samples and inserting an IV in the opposite arm.
Their phones buzz for a few hours, but eventually go silent, presumably when they run out of battery. The noirette doesn’t care, though. All that matters right now is Tweek.
The clock on the wall tells her when the day turns to night, and then back to day again. The bright white light is ever-present, and it sends her head pounding.
A doctor walks in around 7AM with a clipboard, and he greets Craig with a tired nod of his head. “Good morning, Ms..?” He leads, obviously expecting her to answer. She does not.
The man clears his throat. “Alright, not a problem for now. Your, uh, friend here suffered from a drug overdose. We found high amounts of methamphetamines in her system. And I mean very high. It seems she has built up an extremely high tolerance to it, which means she has to have been taking them for a few years at least. Would you happen to be aware when her addiction started? Notice anything different about her in the past years?”
Fucking meth?
“I’ve, I’ve known her since she was eight. She was always paranoid, twitching, y’know,” Craig takes a moment to scrub her eyes harshly. “Her parents have been giving her coffee since she was an infant. We always just thought it was the caffeine. Could it have been fucking meth the whole time?”
The doctor stares at her for a moment, and then over to Tweek. “That is.. possible, yes. And, if you genuinely believe that her parents are the cause, then we can get some police officers in here to file a report.”
Craig steals a long look at the girl in the hospital bed. She is pale, shaking, and mumbling half-groans in her unconsciousness. Tweek might hate her for it, but she honestly couldn’t live with herself if she let those assholes get away with drugging their daughter her entire life.
She steels her resolve with a huff. “Yeah. I want those fuckers behind bars.”
The next few hours are a whirlwind of policemen and interrogations. They ask her to give them Mr. and Mrs. Tweak’s full names, address, and her reasoning for accusing them. When they leave, assuring him they have enough suspicion to gain an emergency warrant, Tweek is still unconscious.
Tweek is still unconscious hours later, when Craig turns on the news and watches an emergency report on the arrest of both Tweaks upon the discovery of meth in their house, coffeeshop, and coffee.
Thankfully, the news doesn’t say much about Tweek and Craig, just that they’re in a safe place and have been working with the police.
Craig should rest. The nice nurse tells her so, and even brings her a free muffin from the shitty cafeteria. But she can’t rest, not when Tweek is still out cold. She doesn’t think she’d be able to live with herself if her best friend woke up alone.
She stares blankly at the television for a long time. When the nice nurse comes back, she has changed out of her scrubs and is handing Craig a warm cup of tea. She sits in the empty seat next to her, and only chuckles when the noirette flips her off.
“You must really love her, huh?”
Craig startles, wide eyes glancing at the nurse. All she finds is a comforting smile, which is soon paired with a parental hand on her shoulder. The teen opens her mouth to respond, but finds that her words are escaping. Finally, she croaks, “..I never got to tell her.”
The nurse sighs, smile turning sad. “You will. I promise, you’ll be able to tell her.”
“But what if, what if she just wants to be friends?”
“Well,” The nurse frowns, eyes searching Craig’s, “Then you stay friends. If she’s smart, she’ll realize how wonderful you are. If not, her loss.”
A tear falls. “How are you so sure?” Her voice cracks embarrassingly.
“I fell in love with my best friend, once,” the woman says, using her free hand to wipe away Craig’s tears. “It was torture. Every time we hung out, I wanted nothing more than to kiss them. When they started dating other people, I could only watch from the sidelines and be jealous.”
“And? What happened?” Craig asks, suddenly entranced by the story.
The nurse’s eyes turn sad. “It became too much for me. I tried to.. take my own life. I didn’t want to live in a world where I couldn’t have them.”
The noirette leans closer to the woman, hanging onto every word. “How’d you survive?”
“They found me. Called an ambulance. I remember waking up in this very hospital to their worried face looking down at me, and I blurted out how I felt. Right there.”
“What’d he say?”
The nurse smiles. “ She said, ‘I love you, too.’”
The teen smiles back. She smiles for the first time since this entire mess started. “Wow.. Are you still together?”
“Yup,” She holds up her hand to show a wedding ring. “Been married almost five years.”
Craig studies the ring, a beautiful blue sapphire. She wonders if Tweek would like a wedding ring like that.
The woman’s phone rings in her pocket, and she answers with, “Hi, honey!”
The teen, suddenly feeling like she’s intruding, looks away.
“I’ll be home soon, I’m just finishing up something important,” A long pause. “Okay, I will. See you soon. Love you!” The nurse puts her phone back in her pocket and huffs fondly. “She’s such a worrywart sometimes.”
The woman stands with a last pat on Craig’s back, but pauses to dig through her purse and pull out a phone charger. “Here, charge your phone. Call someone. I don’t care if it’s a parent or friend, but you need support, too.”
Laura Tucker arrives within ten minutes of receiving her daughter’s call.
She barges into the hospital room with zero tact, all maternal instinct and protectiveness. She pulls Craig into a bone-crushing hug, and shushes her when her earlier sobs are renewed with enough force to knock her off her feet.
The teen blubbers into her mother’s shoulder for a horrifically long time. She’s almost glad Tweek is unconscious so she doesn’t have to witness this.
Craig begrudgingly tells her mom the entire story when she composes herself. From Tweek’s initial collapse to all of the questioning from detectives, the teen unloads it onto her mom. She almost feels bad, but she does actually feel better after talking to her mother. Who knew talking about it actually helps.
Laura promises that she’ll fix everything. Promises to help Tweek with recovery, promises to let Tweek live with them, promises to get Tweek’s parents charged.
She leaves not long after, explaining that she needs to start getting the house in order and digging up dirt on the Tweaks. Craig appreciates that her mom is always so honest with her.
So that leaves Tweek and Craig alone again.
Except Craig has been awake for almost two days now, and it is almost physically impossible for her to keep her eyes open. She rests her chin on the crappy hospital bed, and promises to rest her eyes for just a moment.
When she opens her eyes next, the clock has moved a few hours into the future. The room is the exact same as it was when she fell asleep, so what woke her up?
The fingers in her grasp twitch slightly, and a whimper that isn’t her own floats into the air.
Craig gasps and sits up fully, free hand flying to cup Tweek’s cheek gently. The blonde’s eyes flutter open slowly, and if Craig didn’t know better, she’d say Tweek just woke up from a refreshing nap.
“..C-Craig?” Tweek whispers, voice akin to sandpaper.
And Craig is all over her.
She throws herself into the other girl’s arms, ugly sobbing once again. Every declaration of love, every apology, it all leaves her mind the moment she has her blonde okay in front of her.
Tweek threads her fingers in Craig’s hair, grumbling a bit at the greasy feeling. “Hi, Tiger.”
Those words are enough to push the tall teen over the edge.
She grabs Tweek by the face and smashes their lips together.
Now, Craig has never kissed anyone before. She has never been kissed by anyone before, either. And it shows.
Their noses bump together, and she’s not entirely sure what to do with her lips. Should she move them? Keep them still?
She has no clue if Tweek even likes it until she feels her (fake?) girlfriend smile against her lips drowsily. Craig pulls away just enough to rest their foreheads together, breathing heavily from both nerves and relief.
If Craig doesn’t say what’s on her mind now, she doesn’t think she ever will.
“Tweek, I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years. I.. I’ve been too scared to say it, but I was even more scared when I thought I lost you,” A few tears fall onto Tweek’s face. “And I’m sorry. Even if you don’t love me back, if this relationship has always been fake, I never, ever want to lose you like I almost did.”
A hand snakes in between their faces, and Craig recognizes Tweek’s calloused fingers anywhere, slowly wiping away the wetness on both of their cheeks.
“Craig, you are so fucking stupid if you ever doubted my love for you,” Tweek giggles, “But that’s okay. I love you, stupidity and all.”
Craig smiles so wide it feels like her face might honestly split in half. She presses one more long kiss to her girlfriend’s lips and flops down beside her, emotionally and physically exhausted.
Tweek sighs contentedly, and nuzzles her nose into the jet-black hair that falls messily around them. Craig’s breathing evens out not long after, and the noirette snuggles closer in her sleep.
The blonde smiles, though she is extremely confused. She doesn’t remember why she’s in the hospital, or why Craig was crying so hard. All she knows is she woke up, her girlfriend started crying, kissed her, then confessed her love.
It’s all very confusing.
But she doesn’t feel her usual panic at the unknown. It just kinda is. And if Craig is comfortable enough to sleep, then everything must be okay.
Tweek settles into slumber, extremely comfortable with her real girlfriend asleep at her side.