Because you guys really wanted a sequel, and so did I. xDDDD
As he stared into the depths of his locker, he felt his heart rise at the sight; the two objects that had proven his hopes true once more, just like they had for days. Tweek reached inside, carefully pulling out the bunch of white lilies and folded note. His smile widened as his eyes took in the single red rose in the white center. They looked beautiful. He put them under his nosed and took a breath. They smelled lovely too.
This was the highlight of his day. Ever since he'd first started getting these, this was what he looked forward to, this was what made him happy: to know that someone out there loved him.
He took another deep breath. Tweek thought it was a guy who sent him these; he could always smell the tiniest hint of a musky, ashy scent, along with a splash of cologne. He didn't care what gender the person was, all he cared was that someone loved him.
For years and years he'd been teased, bullied, goaded on relentlessly just because he twitched and drank too much coffee, because he got scared easily and screeched whenever someone bumped into him. Tweek was tired of it, tired enough to snap back at them and retreat farther into himself, away from the cold, cruel world that never liked him. The only place that he'd ever felt safe was in his room, with the door closed and locked and away from prying eyes, in a simple place where he was himself and no one cared.
He thought it was a joke at first. When he'd first seen the flowers – a little bunch of daisies - and note – a poem, just like the others - he was wary and cautious. What if it was someone looking for another tease, another joke to play on the twitcher? Tweek hated them all, every single name they gave him to make fun of him. But the gifts kept on coming, every day, and by the end of the first month, he was already hopelessly giddy with adoration for this secret admirer.
Tweek often wondered who it was. If it really was a guy as he thought, it would be someone strong, manly but sensitive, a secretly shy person who didn't want to approach him out of fear of rejection. Tweek knew that he'd be scared too, if he was in their shoes. Tweek imagined thousands of faceless boys, who presented him with roses and tulips and loved his twitching and would drink coffee with him on his bed. He imagined himself in their arms, warm and comfortable in the knowledge that he was truly loved. He wished he knew who it was.
He wanted to know who he could give his love to.
Tweek sighed as he thought about the situation, his somber look melting into one of happiness as he once again looked at the flowers, opening the note to read what was inside. The words of poetry and the ending 'I love you' made his heart skip a beat, and he felt like giggling.
Today was going to be a good day, he knew it.
Carefully placing the objects inside his locker for safekeeping, he closed it, turning around to wade through the harsh masses to go to his first class. Someone passed, and Tweek's features immediately turned down into a scowl.
Craig Tucker caught his eye as he walked, that unfathomable look in his eyes just like always, striding strongly, almost lazily, through the crowd. Tweek waited until he was gone then turned and walked in the opposite direction.
He hated Craig.
No, he didn't hate him. He loathed him.
Ever since their fight so long ago, Tweek had despised him. For insulting him. For making him have to learn to fight with stupid boxing gloves. For forcing him to come out and stand in the middle of a crowd of people who looked down at him. For making him feel so angry. Tweek didn't understand why Craig had said those things to him, why he'd wanted to fight, but he understood his own anger and fought back. And once they were released after their fight in the hospital, he hated him all the more. Craig Tucker was the personification of every bully who'd ever hurt him, who'd ever made him feel bad about himself.
And the worst part was, it was like Craig didn't even care. He always had on that look of apathy and indifference, and even when Tweek gave him his best glare and cursed him viciously, all he did was look at him for a second, flip him off slowly, maybe, but then walk away. As if Tweek was of no importance to him. It infuriated him.
Tweek ground his teeth, forcing his mind back on the loveliness of the flowers today. He wasn't going to let that raven-headed bastard ruin his day.
Two weeks later, Tweek opened his locker in the morning and there they were again, just like always. More flowers and another note, the things that made him float through the day like an invincible superhero.
He took another moment to read the note – yet again another heart-melting poem – and sniffed the flowers, taking in that secret hint of masculinity of his secret admirer. Happy once more, he took a sip of his coffee as he put them back tenderly; he would carry them home when the day ended and put the flowers in a vase in his room, and the note in his drawer where the rest of them were. He closed the locker and turned around, then was startled enough to jump back.
Craig stared down at him, impassive and silent; he had been waiting right next to him and Tweek had never noticed. The blonde cursed himself for not seeing the asshole. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell Craig to get the hell out of his sight, but he was beaten to the punch.
"I'm leaving."
Tweek was confused enough to stay silent. Craig waited, then said,
"In a week. I'm leaving." He paused. "My family's moving out of state. Next Tuesday's my last day."
Tweek felt his anger rise, more so as he recovered from his shock. "So?"
Craig seemed almost surprised to hear Tweek's response, and he was silent for a moment. Then, "I thought...you'd like to know."
The blonde could have almost laughed. "Ngh, w-why would I? Good r-r-riddance."
He expected to get a middle finger in response, a curse, anything. He didn't expect Craig's shoulders to slightly droop, his head to drop as his eyes looked down, or for the sudden silence that fell between them. Finally Craig lifted his head and Tweek was surprised to see emotion there, something deep and smoldering but beyond his comprehension. He didn't know what it was. But in that moment, Craig looked so achingly fragile. The raven said only again,
"I thought you'd like to know."
Then the emotion cut back to nothing again and the other turned and walked away, leaving Tweek alone and confused, but angry. Like hell he cared what Craig did! The only thing that he cared about was the fact that he'd never have to see that jackass' face ever again. He thought of this morning's gifts to calm himself down, and took another drink of his coffee.
That'd been the longest conversation they'd had in years. He couldn't remember Craig exchanging that many words with anybody. Hmph, served him right to be a loner.
That following week – excluding weekends – the flowers he got grew in amount, going from the usual five or six to almost two dozen. He could see the petals peeking out from the slots of his locker; people stared at him sometimes as he opened it. Instead of wondering how on earth this guy was getting things into his locker, Tweek's heart swelled with joy.
The notes became more wistful, if anything; the simple poetry conveyed a sense of deep longing and now, sadness. But they spoke ever more strongly of their love, and how much the admirer loved Tweek, loved everything about him. Tweek treasured them all.
Tuesday, after school, Tweek trekked down the school's front steps, holding his latest bouquet close to his chest, a group of bright yellow roses in full bloom. He was happy…then someone walked into his path, blocking him.
It was Craig.
They hadn't spoken since their last confrontation and as Tweek stared at him, he felt his anger rise at the usual apathetic expression that stared back. "What?" he snapped, his twitching unable to interfere with the short word.
Craig gazed down at him, his dark, dark eyes betraying nothing. "Today's my last day."
What? Oh yeah, the asshole was leaving. He'd forgotten; as if he really cared. "Augh, so? Wh-who gives a fuck?"
He didn't think Craig would answer, and he didn't for a moment, just looked downward. Then the raven sighed in dead monotone. "Apparently no one."
It was a cold, bluntly spoken fact, a statement so crude in truth that Tweek was taken aback for a halfsecond. He would have at least expected Craig to protest or something. He would have almost felt pity, but then he remembered who he was talking to and he scoffed. "Th-that's what you –ngh- g-get for being s-such a bastard. Erk, n-no one likes you."
Craig lifted one shoulder in a bland shrug, silently and once again dully acknowledging the insult. His dark eyes came up to meet Tweek's and that smoldering emotion was back again.
"After today, I don't think I'll ever see you again. I don't think I'll ever come back." He stopped, then murmured, "It's all final."
Tweek gritted his teeth. "I. Don't. Care."
The raven said nothing, and his gaze turned to the roses Tweek held. "They match the color of your hair." He said quietly.
His secret admirer had written something very similar in today's note. Tweek growled. "Ngh! Sh-shut up!"
Craig looked at him, his eyes suddenly seeming more reflective, more depths swirling in their dark blue color. He looked almost lost, as if he were a stranger suddenly dropped into a strange new world. "I hope you have a happy life, Tweek." Why the hell would Craig wish him that? Had the whole world gone insane? "Goodbye, I guess…Tweek, I-" he paused, was silent, then slowly whispered,
"I'll miss you."
The raven's lips twitched then drew up softly, sadly almost, into the tiny curve of a smile. Craig was smiling at him. Then he turned abruptly, slipping into the post-school crowds; the entire exchange had taken less than two minutes. Tweek was left stunned, and once again, angry. That bastard, fucking around with him like that! It was probably a trick and he wasn't going to leave at all; Tweek would come in tomorrow and see him laughing at having fallen for such a stupid thing. And what the hell had been up with that damned smile?
Tweek shook his head, disgusted, and his foul mood prevailed on his walk home.
The blonde almost ran to his locker the next day, eager to see what things it held today, what bright flowers would greet him as he opened his locker. He slowed down, however, when he noticed that he couldn't see anything peeking out from the locker slots, as it had been so frequently this last week. He stopped in front of it, a bit of worry running through his heart. His admirer hadn't thought better of loving him, had he? What if he didn't like Tweek anymore?
He hurriedly opened his locker with shaking hands, almost sighing in relief when he noticed that something other than his things occupied its depths. Tweek looked at them curiously. The first was a glass ball of some kind, but a single yellow rose bloomed inside, obviously preserved. The entire thing was small enough that it fit comfortably in his outstretched hand.
The note wasn't a simple folded card, it was an actual paper, and Tweek could tell there was more writing in it than usual. Clutching the glass ball, he opened the note, eyes scanning the words written inside. It was a letter, not a poem.
I'm sorry, Tweek. I'm so, so sorry. Tweek's heart plummeted. Had he been right? I'm sorry for anything I did to hurt you. I'm sorry for that stupid fight. I'm sorry you hate me. I'm sorry I never told you how much I love you.
I love you. I love you so much it hurts whenever you glare at me, even while you're holding the flowers I give you. I've loved you ever since we were little kids, but I knew you'd never say 'yes'. You couldn't even give me a proper goodbye yesterday. But I don't blame you. It's my fault I could never tell you how I felt.
I know how I am, how I act. Maybe I never would have been a good boyfriend to you. Maybe you were right: I'm too much of a bastard for anyone to like me. I guess we'll never know now.
I wanted to get you a nice final present, not just some stupid flowers. But still it's something with flowers in it. I know flowers don't last, but this one will. (It really does match your pretty hair, doesn't it?) It'll last for as long as I love you, and that'll last for a very long time.
You don't have to believe this. You don't have to believe it was me who gave you all those cards and flowers. You can break the glass, burn the notes, do all of that if you haven't already, I don't care. Just know that I love you Tweek. I love you with all my heart. I'll miss you every day from now.
I hope you have a happy life, and that you'll meet a nice person that'll make you happy forever. Maybe sometimes I'll wonder what would have happened if I'd actually told you. I can only hope that you would have loved me back. I'm so sorry for everything.
I love you, Tweek.
And at the very bottom, dropping the graceful type and written in a slightly familiar scrawl, was the name, 'Craig T.'
It was by merest chance that Tweek didn't drop the glass ball and have it shatter on the tiled floor. There was a second in which he just stared at the words on the paper, at the name scratched there, his grip ever-tightening on the yellow rose in his disbelief.
...he's lying. Tweek's head snapped up, looking around. This is a lie! His eyes darted around the small crowds of people the lingered in the hall before school. It was a lie; Craig was here somewhere, he absolutely knew it. That bastard was waiting for him, watching to see if he would cry or something! He'd broken into his locker and taken the things that his admirer had given him!
But no matter how hard he looked, there was no sign of the raven-haired bully. Craig wasn't the tallest person around but he was of a good height; he wouldn't have been able to hide from Tweek's hawk eyes. He just wasn't there.
Tweek refused to believe the words written on the note, even when the slightest bit of doubt started to encroach upon him. He whirled around and darted into the crowds, hardly caring when people cried out in anger as he bumped into them carelessly. He had to find out. He had to know if it was true, if his most hated enemy was the one who had sent him those flowers for so long.
He burst into the front office, the aide there, Pip Pirrup, just settling into his chair. He rushed to the counter, his hands still gripping the rose and letter. "T-tell me -ngh! Tell me Craig Tucker's f-first period class!"
The British boy looked at him in askance. "Why, Tweek, whatever for? Do you have permission from a teacher? I can't give things out nilly-willy, you know."
"Gah! Just tell me!"
Pip drew back, a surprised look on his face. "My God! Well," he cast a look over Tweek's flushed, desperate and angry features. "I suppose this once wouldn't hurt. But don't tell anyone, will you? I don't want to get in trouble."
Tweek nodded exasperatedly and Pip hummed as he typed into the computer in front of him, the slow murmur of the machine making Tweek even more twitchy. Finally, the results popped up.
"Ah-ha!" Pip took a closer look, then frowned slightly. "Oh dear...it seems he moved. His last day was yesterday; didn't you know?" He looked up at Tweek apologetically. "I'm sorry. I guess Craig won't be coming back. Did he owe you something?"
Tweek stared at him, stunned, then slowly dropped his hands from the counter, taking a couple steps back. He didn't listen as Pip called out to him, shuffling out of the office in a daze.
No matter how much he hoped, Tweek never received another present again.
Tweek sat on a park bench, alone, staring at the note in his hand. It had been a long three months since Craig had left, and Tweek had slowly come to terms that the raven had actually been his secret admirer.
The most obvious clue was that his locker was empty every morning. By now, even the last bunch of yellow roses had withered and died, and only the preserved rose remained, the glass sphere lying alone on his bedside table. When he thought further on it, though, he thought of the little things.
How long had it been since Craig had actually flipped him off, or even gave him a monotone response to his insults? He'd never tried to hurt him, or actually bully him...in fact, it was Tweek who had bullied him, with his constant insults and sneers. Craig had never once risen to his jibes, or even tried to defend himself. He'd never even cursed in Tweek's presence.
Tweek didn't want to admit to himself that it might have been true, but after so long, it was no use to deny it. Every flower-less morning cut down on his denial, and now he winced at the thought of how long Craig must have suffered in silence.
He wondered at his own ignorant hypocrisy, cursing Craig even when he melted at those presents.
'I love you so much it hurts whenever you glare at me, even while you're holding the flowers I give you.'
The blond remembered their last conversation and shuddered; he'd been so harsh. Really, what basis had he had to hate Craig? He'd never known him, he'd never tried to get to know him or the reasons he'd had to fight...he'd just projected all his hate on him for no reason.
Tweek was feeling the heavy hand of regret, but it was no use now. Craig was gone.
He turned over the note in his hand, staring at the back. Seven numbers scrawled in a thin blue ink, hurried and sloppy. He'd found them the same day. He didn't even know if it was Craig's or not, it might have been some random number on the page Craig had written on, and he had been too much of a coward to call. What would he say anyway?
But he wanted to know, to ask and find out how Craig could have still loved him after being treated so badly.
Trembling hands finally dialed the number on his cell, the ringing tone making its way to his ears. A pause, another ring, then,
"Hello?"
The familiar rough voice made Tweek freeze and his heart skip a bit; he couldn't speak.
"...hello? Who is this?"
Tweek cleared his throat.
"Craig? ...i-it's me. Tweek."
