To Second Chances [Craig x Tweek]

that wasn't so bad. right? : 16

Warnings:
Sh(only brief, no real description)
Slightly longer chapter

Craig's pov:

We were sitting on tweeks bed cuddling, talking about whatever when he brought this up.

"When can I meet your parents?" He asked.

I shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe in a few months." I mumbled.

Tweek looked at me weirdly while sitting up.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you joking?"

"No?"

"Craig, you just met my parents today. Why can't I meet your parents soon?"

I shrugged again.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" I asked, feeling a little anxious about the situation.

"You asked me to be your boyfriend but you don't want me to meet your parents?" He asked.

I shook my head.

"That's not it." "Then what is it?" "I'm scared."

There was a pause.

"Scared of what?" He frowned.

"I don't want them to throw me out of the house again. What if they don't accept us." I answer.

"That doesn't matter. Even if they don't accept us and they kick you out, they'll know about it."

I felt myself get more upset at his answer.

"It does matter! What if they stop loving me.." I muttered. I got out of tweeks bed and left his room, walking downstairs.

I fished my keys out of my pocket and walked out of his house. I got in my car and drove back to my house. All of this while trying not to cry. I wasn't going to cry in front of him or anyone right now.
...
Once I was back home, I lied in my bed. I started crying, only because I was alone. I didn't want to do anything at all but cry. I felt my phone buzz at least a hundred times before I put in on silent. I did breathing techniques, I tried falling asleep, and i tried everything I could think of to feel better.

Then my mind wondered.

I thought about the question that my therapist asked me.

"Any self harm?"

People do that to feel better. My mom's at work. My sister is at a friend's.

It's worth a try.

I got out of my bed and walked downstairs. I went through the junk drawer, finding a small pocket knife.

I walked back upstairs and to the bathroom. I was hesitant about it, like I probably should've been.

I tried it.

I tried again.

It was one of the things I thought I'd never be doing, but here I was.

After I was done, I tried to dry it up. The first time and I already got carried away and definitely went too far. I was terrified. My hands were shaking as I wrapped toilet paper around my arm.
...
I finally got it under control. I wrapped my arm up in bandages and slid my sleeve over it to cover the damage.

No one can know about this. Not my mom, not my friends, not my therapist, not tweek, no one. Just me and my head.

My head isn't really that reliable, though.

I sighed and walked back to my room, still shaking a bit. The shock of having just done what I did still not leaving me.

Guilt washed over me.