chapter track: dandelion hands - i like you

I couldn't speak, the only movement I could make is the intense, involuntary quivering that spread throughout my body. I attempted to stay composed, using all possible strength to try and find words to respond to his. His face scrunched up, looking away from me and tightening his grip on his ukulele.

I desperately tried to choke out something. Anything. "I- I-" I cleared my throat and shook my head to snap myself out of whatever trance-like state I found myself in. "I- I really l-"

He shook his head. "No, nevermind." He then stood up, propping his ukulele back on the wall and turned around to face me. His face was plastered as the straight face I usually see, frowning a bit when he made eye contact with me. "Are you okay?"

"W-Wait, what about-"

"Forget about it. You're crying. Something's wrong. Are you okay?"

I touched my hand to my cheek, pulling back when I felt that not only was my cheek practically on fire, but it was completely wet. I wiped my face on my sleeve, nodding and hiccuping through tears.

"Y-Yeah, um… I'm fine."

How did I not even realize that I started crying?

"Are you sure? Sorry if I did anything that upset you." He sat back down next to me, handing me tissues. I refused them, smiling through tears.

"N-No, um, you didn't do anything. S-Sorry for randomly bursting into tears like that, um-" I wiped my face on my sleeve again and tried to calm myself down. I watched Craig get up, pulling Stripe out of his cage and settling down next to me once more. He let me hold him, probably in an attempt to calm me down, and wouldn't stop asking if I was okay. I gently pet Stripe with my finger, nodding wordlessly at every time he would check up on me. He didn't know what to do, I could tell. To tell you the truth, I didn't know either.

I kept finding myself crying again and again, completely involuntarily. I would think about how he sang to me, or how he looked at me when he was finished, or even just… Him in general.

I kept thinking about how I still wasn't sure if he was asking me out or not.

I kept thinking about how I didn't know if I was in love with him or in love with how much he cares about me.

I kept thinking about how terrified of my emotions I am.

I kept thinking about how confused I am.

Craig, in a manner of confused concern, pulled out his laptop and began to show me animal videos. He showed me songs he wants to learn, cartoons he's getting into, and even merchandise he wants to buy. I could tell this was a way to distract me and maybe even help me.

Eventually I found myself calming down.

We ended up watching Disney movies together, wrapped up in blankets and loudly eating chips to make up for Stripe's gentle, content squeaking from his cage. We usually always do this if the other was upset at one point or another, and we usually find ourselves rewatching a lot of movies, but neither of us mind. Disney movies are me and Craig's mutual comfort, it seems, and we both know a lot more about them than we should.

My favorite movie is Aristocats, and Craig' is Lady and the Tramp.

This time, we're watching Zootopia for what feels like the 10th time.

Despite being almost completely immersed in the movie, I can't help but feel guilty. Craig had put so much courage into singing for me, and I couldn't even find the words to tell him that I at least enjoyed it. I'm afraid he might be mad at me or, maybe even just disappointed.

I would ask him, but I don't want to bring it back to light. I don't want him to be upset or get the wrong idea.

From the warm red light coming through the blanket over Craig's window to the look of anticipatory nervousness on his face, however, I know I won't be forgetting that moment any time soon.

I just wish I was able to return how I felt to him somehow.

I decide to stop thinking about it for now. If he chooses to bring it up again, I can talk to him about it then.

After watching a few more movies, I break my eyes away from Craig's computer screen. Aside from the light emitting from the screen and the soft glow coming from his glow in the dark stars, we are completely submerged in darkness, unaware of how much time has passed us. I nudge Craig and ask him what time it is. He tells me it's about 11.

My eyes are stinging and heavy, both from exhaustion and tears, and I rub my eyes in hopes that it'll rub away my sleepiness as well.

Craig closes his laptop lid, wordlessly pulling me closer.

I end up falling asleep on his shoulder, clinging close and wrapped in what feels like genuine love.

I think I love him, too.

When morning comes, it hits me hard. My head is pounding, my eyes are crusted shut, and I find myself in an entirely different position than what I fell asleep in. I wipe my eyes, opening them to the best of my ability, eyes stinging from bright sunlight and still swollen from the night before.

I sit up and scan the environment looking for Craig, chest aching from not taking my binder off from the night before. I realized that I'm no longer laying on him, but instead tucked into his bed. He was probably the one who put me here, but he's nowhere to be seen. I assume he's making breakfast, or-

Hold that thought, what time even is it, anyway?

I rub my eyes once more to rid myself of whatever dreariness remained, stretched, and walked out to the kitchen to search for Craig. Instead of finding him, I found his mom, cooking eggs and tapping her foot to the beat of an 80's radio station set up on the counter. I seat myself at the table and look over at the oven clock which reads '9:45am'. Mrs. Tucker looks over and waves to me and smiles, somehow still in sync to the beat.

"Good morning, Tweek!"

"Good morning, Mrs. Tucker. Um, h-have you seen Craig yet? He's not in his room…"

She lowers the radio volume without breaking eye contact with me, concern stretching over her face. "That's odd. I haven't seen him yet this morning, though, so he's probably still in the house somewhere. Unless he snuck out the window!" She chuckled to herself and went back to cooking, turning the radio volume back up. "Don't worry too bad, Tweek."

I nodded, rubbing the side of my aching body subconsciously.

"Alright, Mrs. Tucker. Thank you."

"Of course, sweetie! Now, aren't you hungry? I'm making some eggs for you boys if you want any. I think we have some bacon leftover, too, if you want any!"

"A-Ah, thank you again! You didn't have to make me anything thought, really."

"Naw, naw, I wanted to!" She gently scraped the eggs onto a plate and handed them over to me. "Help yourself!"

I flashed a quick smile and took them in hesitation, body still trying to wake up, still trying to figure out why it wasn't being held when it woke up. For some reason, my brain has labelled it as a dream, something far too wonderful and joyous to be true. Did me, Tweek Tweak, really deserve something as genuine and fantastic as that experience was? Do I really deserve the right to be so happy, so content and safe to the point where I feel more at home with him than I do with anyone else? I decide that my mind is probably making this whole situation up to fill in whatever gaps between me and Craig's relationship had in order to fulfill these stupid, unrealistic fantasies I've been having. I decide that I'm mistaking these small, friendly signs of affection for something much greater than it really is. I decide that I'm thinking too much.

All of those times our hands clasped like like my anxious, clenched jaw, or the brief moments where our eyes met and for a moment and I swear I could see his face flush a soft, rosy color before shifting his gaze. All of those moments were just filled gaps in my mind. Cavities filled by a fake, imitative substance. No more than imagination.

I blink my eyes to wake myself up from my thoughts, hand still grasping the plate of eggs, hovering right where Mrs. Tucker had handed it to me. She had already turned around and started making a new batch, so thankfully she didn't get the chance to notice my moment of brain-deadness. I turn around and place them on the table and start eating.

As always, Mrs. Tuckers food is godlike. She manages to bring out the truest flavor of everything no matter what it may be. She always adds spices to every dish she makes, whether it be as simple as eggs or ramen. In fact, I think I've seen her add spices to coffee before, as weird as that may sound. However, cinnamon and vanilla in coffee is a lot better than you may expect.

I rub my eyes again, still feeling heavy and irritated from little sleep. They seem to try and close on their own, and I have trouble keeping myself awake. After eating, I push my plate to the side and rest my head on the kitchen table.

I fall back asleep before I know it.

My eyes crack open to a dream, kneeling in a hazy field of sunflowers, knees planted in a soft patch of grass much like the flowers surrounding me. My whole body feels like it's aching, dull pains surging through my body. I squint and look at the sun, eyes stinging from the sharp rays shining into my eyes. My unconscious mind is fully aware that this is a dream, but is still worried to some extent that it could somehow be real. Quickly, my mind brushes this idea aside, barely comprehending its own contents.

I twist my body around in confusion, trying to possibly find a purpose for me being here. Within that field I find something blue, out of place, a bold contrast against the greens and yellows which I seemed to blend in with perfectly. I see it moving.

My whole body quakes in reaction to my attempt to move my arms or my legs. I attempt to get up or wave to the figure, but I stay planted in the ground like a stone. In the distance, I can see the blue figure turn around, facing me with a confused gaze. I now realize that he most likely can't see me, making me try and force a stronger attempt to move to get his attention. Just my luck, I'm still stuck to this position. I even try calling out, but my jaw is clenched and won't move, additionally incapable of making even the smallest sound to make it clear that I'm not a flower. This figure soon turns back around to walk away.

Only then am I able to unclench my jaw and shout.

I wake to the gentle, soft touch of Craig nudging my shoulder, his eyes glossed with concern, filling me with a warm feeling of relief and safety. I let out a soft breath through my nose, exhaling all built up stress and worry that filled my chest from this morning. Craig leaned over and pulled me to his chest, hugging me tightly and rubbing my back for comfort.

"Is everything alright?"

"Um, I'm fine. W-Why? Where were you? I-I was, um, really worried." My voice eventually trailed off with the last sentence, breath heavy and hot, lingering paranoias and intrusive thoughts clinging to each puff that left my mouth. All of these fears exited my mouth and into Craig's clothes, soft and filled with warmth, disappearing and being replaced with love rather than doubt. With each time Craig's hand repeated the rubbing motion on my back, I seemed to calm down more and more, falling closer into the comfort of his arms.

"No, no, look, I'm fine, Tweek. Are you sure you're okay? You were yelling in your sleep and squirming a lot and you seem really shaken up."

"It-" I remembered the dream and I wondered as to whether or not I should explain to him what it was and what happened. Would he think that the blue figure was him and get the wrong idea? ...Actually, thinking about it, was the blue figure him? I still wasn't sure. "Um, it's nothing. It was just a really weird dream and, uhm… R-Really all it was was one of those dreams where y-you know, you couldn't move at all, and it was really scary, and-"

He interrupted me by sweeping my bangs off to the side and planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. He pulls me closer into the hug, breathy reassurances being whispered to my side, just loud enough for me to hear it. Heat radiated from my face, eyes feeling hot and wet like they had the night before.

I wriggled my way closer into his grasp to hide my blushing face, along with my teary eyes that might show just how much I care for him. It… Feels weird to be like this; to cry because of how much you care about and love someone, to be so weak to your own positive emotions that you can't really withstand it without breaking down. It makes it so much worse when you're not entirely sure how the other feels about you, to be so curious about whether or not the other feels the same that you need to force yourself to suppress these emotions.

However, the kiss he planted on my forehead blurred my understanding of my own desires and reality. Mixed with last night, I'm not sure what to believe.

Should I ask?

Before I had enough time to think, he held my shoulders and pulled me back, looking me directly in my teary eyes and rosy pink face. I made an attempt to look away or hide it, tears overflowing in a sense of embarrassment.

Before I could do anything, before I could even register what he was doing, he grabbed my chin and pulled my face closer to his.

He then proceeded to kiss me.

And, now, it's not like the kiss from before that was just a tiny peck on the forehead, but a full out kiss.

It lasted for a second, but in my mind it replayed over and over in my head, and I feel like if I could, I would relive it forever.

That kiss spoke millions to me, as if every single thing that we both wanted to say to each other was transferred wordlessly to the other. It was almost as if, for that single second, that touch allowed me to read his mind, and allowed him to read mine.

I realized finally that all of these fantasies I've been having weren't fantasies at all.

This is the real thing, and I'm living it.

We're living it together.

After a few moments of silent admiration, gazing into eachothers eyes as if expecting an ounce of regret, or, maybe even expecting to wake up from a wonderful dream, he let out a really deep breath.

"Tweek, last night, when I played that song for you," A bullet of sweat dripped down the side of his face as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "I played it as a sort of confession, but…"

"B-But?"

"...I… Wasn't expecting you to cry like that. I was worried that you didn't know how to react and didn't want to hurt my feelings, so you just translated that feeling into tears."

"N-No, not at all, Craig… I-I mean, I did cry because I didn't know what to do, I guess. I didn't even really know that I was crying until you pointed it out…" I let out a nervous laugh, voice cracking from crying so much. "But… I didn't know what to do because I didn't know if it was what I thought it was, y-you know? B-But, um…"

"Wait, wait, you didn't know? Hah, I thought I was being ridiculously obvious about it."

"S-Same here…"

"I guess we're both really dense people then, huh?"

"Hehe, yeah, I guess so."

We broke out into childish laughter, giggling softly to each other as if we let out our worst, most terrible secrets and were making fun of each other for it. In a way, this was true, but instead of our worst, most terrible secrets, they were our best, most wonderful ones.

We both let out a really big breath, almost simultaneously, as if all of this weight we've been carrying was let out in a single moment, tension easing from between us.

"Hey, hey, Tweek!"

"Huh?"

With his monotone, nasally voice, he let out the silliest "I looooooove you!" I've ever heard.

I felt my heart nearly jump out of my chest.

My hands instinctively covered my face, and through a mess of snorts and giggles I responded, too.

"I love you too, Craig. I love you so much."