Through A Window | Tweek x Craig

:9: Seven Minutes

Trigger Warnings: None

Words: 1322

A/N: by the way, they are in eighth grade in this. I don't think I ever mentioned this so here you go! ALSO PLEASE IGNORE HOW THEY ARE GETTING DRUNK AND SHIT WHEN THEY ARE SO YOUNG I WROTE THIS BEFORE I ESTABLISHED THEY WERE KIDS, OKAY? 😂 Just go with it....It's South Park, stuff like this happens...

Tweek

"Tweek and Craig"

My heart skipped a beat as frantic eyes from the crowd had all turned around to face me. It felt as if the loudness of the party had become silent all for this moment. I couldn't move. I couldn't breath!

"I-I...I...AHH!" I stuttered out.

"You don't have to, Tweek." Reassured Token, "It's fine."

I took a deep, shaky breath and thought about it. Maybe this could be a good thing? "N-No. I could...I could just use this time to talk to him. GAH!"

"Are you sure, fella? Craig is on the dance floor anyway, do you really want us to bring him over here so you can alone with him for a whole seven minutes in a dark closet?" Butters asked me comfortingly.

I sighed, "Yeah, it's fine."

---

Before I knew it, closet doors were locked shut, leaving me and my arch enemy alone in a dark, empty closet for as long as seven minutes. I took a deep breath and turned to him standing next to me and took this as a chance to talk to him, despite how fucking drunk he looked. I personally thought it was stupid to be getting drunk in only eighth grade but I ignored it.

"Um...hey, Craig. Can we just take this time to talk?" I asked him hesitantly. I tried my best to make out his features in the dark. His usual blue hat was gone which revealed his dark hair. It was decently messy from being so drunk. This was actually the first time I had seen him without his hat on.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he stood there, staring at me, with a very red face. I awkwardly twitched as I asked, "Craig?"

Just then, Craig approached me and had thrown his arms around me, embracing me in his arms. I was so thrown off by the sudden close contact and stumbled backwards, hitting the wall behind me. "Nnagh! What the hell?" I shrieked.

His weight had overpowered me (due to him being much taller than I was) so I slid down to the ground, my back against the wall, with him on top of me.

"C-Craig!" I stuttered. "What are you doing?" After he did nothing but laugh, I continued: "How drunk ARE you?"

He lifted his face from my chest to look at me. "Hella." He answered with another laugh.

I wasn't use to this kind of contact. "Would you get off of me?" I nervously asked him. In response, Craig shook his head and held me tighter.

"No." He simply answered.

At this point, I had no idea what to do. My heart was beating so fast! Why was I so scared? ...Actually, I shouldn't be so surprised. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, scares me. It's the sad truth.

I sighed and continued to try and talk to him. "Craig, you hate me. Why are you doing this?"

Uh, because he's fucking drunk? Why did I have to ask?

"What? I could never hate you." He slurred on his words quite a bit and his breath reeked of alcohol.

"Yes! Yes, you do."

"Why would I hate you?" He looked back up at me again with clear confusion on his face.

I groaned. I guess he had had no memory of ever bullying me, which was probably a good thing right now. But I still decided to explain it to him for some odd reason. "Because you're a homophobe, Craig. You hate gays so you hate me."