Something in the bitter taste of his coffee drifted his mind back to Craig. He stared into the dark liquid, trying his hardest to restrain his quivering lips. Countless afternoons with Craig were spent in this very room, and he was forced to realize it would never occur like that.
It was all his own fault.
He was never good enough, or at the very least, not as good as Michael. Tweek closed his eyes slowly. He attempted to smile as his mind focused on the new couple. He hoped Craig was happy.
Tweek's smile was soon accompanied with tears that rivered down his cheeks and successfully ruined his coffee. His forced smile remained as he mourned the death of something that never was and something that never will be.
Maybe he was the one with spikes, after all.