Buried (a Creek fic)

30. Sink

Craig was the first to notice the sunrise on that early Thursday morning. Nobody else was awake, but he had been up on-and-off for hours, only running on about random 20-minute intervals of sleep. He loved watching the slow transition from dawn to day, but as the sun continued to gradually peek its glowing head into the inky, navy blue sky, he could feel his anxiety growing with it.

He would have to go to school in a few hours. He would have to face the people that he had poured his uncovered emotions out onto and with it, he'd have to face whatever rejection or acceptance would come from that. At this point, he wasn't sure which one he feared the most. Sure, if he was rejected, that was it. However, if they accepted his apology... what then?

Craig shook his head and the thought flew out of his mind. He ran a hand through his greasy black hair and rubbed at his tired eyes. Physically, he felt exhausted. Mentally, he felt completely energized, though he wasn't sure why - considering, the practically sleepless night was not fueling him. Emotionally, he felt... well, he supposed he wasn't quite sure. Not that he was ever really sure.

The cool breeze from the open window to his left made him shiver, causing him to tug his jacket down further to cover his exposed legs. He was sat next to the window wearing only his jacket and boxers, his nearly-empty pack of cigarettes perched on the windowsill. His throat and lungs was still angry with him for chain-smoking continuously through the night, but it's not like he really cared.

He mind started to wander off again, as he vaguely noted that the tangerine shade of orange in the sky was beginning to tint red. Craig remembered the last time smoke wafted out from his bedroom window and the chilled outside air wasn't the only thing to make him shiver, as he recounted when Kenny had gotten him high after the party. And he remembered exactly how his chest felt at the thought of losing Tweek. It seemed strange to him that he feared Tweek abandoning him when really, he hadn't even been his then.

Craig supposed now, he was and the realization struck a smile onto his face.

Tweek hadn't said anything about the letter yet and Craig was, oddly enough, relieved. He had hoped that there was no need to talk about it. It had been hard enough jotting down the words onto the sheet of paper, knowing that they would eventually be read by Tweek. Now, the thought of having a face-to-face discussion about its contents really unnerved him. It was to be expected, yet the thought made his skin crawl. He wished that the letter could just be something that they would both silently remember, but that they wouldn't discuss. Though, Tweek was a very emotional person, unlike him. There was no doubt in his mind that Tweek wouldn't skip over it as if nothing happened.

Craig had even texted him earlier, the first time when he had woke up that night. It was around midnight and, knowing the insomniac was more than likely still awake, Craig switched on his phone and texted the blonde, asking - almost begging - him to skip school with him the next day.

A simple, two-worded reply came a few minutes later: no Craig.

He understood the reasoning behind it, given that the first time they had both skipped together was more of a one time thing for Tweek (though it definitely wasn't for Craig) and the fact that Tweek mildly got in trouble for it by his parents probably didn't help. Not to mention that Tweek probably had his mind dead set on discussing the letter and he would probably stop at nothing to do it.

Craig sighed and brushed his stringy hair out of his eyes. His line of sight flickered down at the pack of cigarettes, but as he started to pick it up, he momentarily froze and then decided against it. It probably wouldn't be best to continue the chain smoking routine that he had started that night. After all, Tweek was the one that had reminded him that they caused cancer anyway.