Craig Tucker is an early riser. He wakes up to his alarm the minute the longer clock hand hits the tippy top of the clock, the farthest point if can get from the smaller hand. That's 6am for those of you without visual minds.

He doesn't mind making his own breakfast or cleaning up after himself. On Saturday mornings at home he would make breakfast for Ruby and himself while his parents were at work. He secretly acted like the house was his own, thinking about what changes to the house he could make within the legal limits of South Park. The legality of it all was the best part.

What could Craig get away with without being fined? Which regulation had the biggest loophole? Starting at a place like South Park's homing requirements was a good place to start in terms of shifty bylaws.

The first few weeks of the boys moving in together went fine. Craig would grab a bite to eat at his leisure and while he cleaned his dish, he would think about the regulations and rules of their new home. He read the roommate agreement Token pulled from the internet weeks prior, finding easy verbiage within the generic form that he could get around if needed. Craig knows he would never commit anything that heinous to cause Token to bring out the rental agreement.

Those first few weeks Craig hardly saw any boy. All too busy figuring out classes, jobs, getting their things settled in. Too many things going on to care about a house routine. About the third Monday into it, Tweek started barging into Craig's room, telling him he needs his dirty laundry. That's how this all started.

Craig is too nice, no, maybe too lazy of a person to insist he do his own housework. He knows Tweek has always been one that needs a task at hand, so if anything he felt a little bit better on the inside knowing he's helping Tweek's sanity stay in check.

Plus, he's worried that the minute he tries to confront Tweek, he would get those big doe-like eyes that try to take Craig's dimly lit heart and set it ablaze. He asked once if he needed some assistance and Tweek took it as Craig telling him he wasn't doing a good enough job.

So, he lets momma Tweek take the reigns. Ever since he has yet to see Tweek twitch as much as he had. Plus, he has other things to fill that space of self-sufficiency anyway.

The end of this semester Craig has litigation prep and then finally, his chance to show what he's learned in school. An actual case. He just got the case and finished writing his first draft of research and analytics when Kevin Stoley barged in and gave his room a once over. Craig, being too amused and too uncaring to make his presence known, just sat and watched Kevin take his room in. Usually people already have it thought out in their mind on room reactions. "oh what a nice room," they say even though it could be covered in snot. He promised himself that once he finished his paper, he would put it away and relax for at least three days of his break.

Of course he didn't count on helping Tweek, more like seeing more of him. The two haven't really had a chance to sit and chat since the second semester started a few weeks ago.

He knew something was wrong when Tweek gave up setting a complete table for Sunday morning breakfast. Usually he knows exactly what to say or do to calm his nerves. This time, Craig felt completely caught off guard. He hadn't even noticed Tweek making his letters or going to his pre-op appointments. He felt like such a bad friend.

After Craig's shower yesterday he checked in on Tweek to find him sleeping. He scribbled a note down for him to text him when he woke up but hasn't heard anything since. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and scrolls through his messages and see the last message from Tweek is a simple, "K".

Not even an Ok. The shortest form of reply besides nothing at all. Maybe Tweek is a little upset that he can't get his cleaning done? Upset about his surgery? Above all, he could be upset that Clyde has been talking his ear off all week before about drinking and smoking like they did in high school. Maybe he feels left out?

A flash of panic strikes Craig. Tweek didn't even give Craig a heads up about his operation. Could Tweek be upset with him? Has he been too busy to notice Tweek?

Craig sits at the kitchen table at 6:05am with Tweek's note in his hands. Like the saying, he always knew second is the best.

"Guys-"

Craig reads the introduction that he assumes is his opening for every letter. A part of him doesn't want to read the letter, his mind being trained to find any way around what letters actually read, he would hate to be so critical on Tweek.

The coffee is already in the works, so Craig quickly skims over the breakfast/coffee spiel and gets to the main part of the letter.

"Today is the day I clean the entire kitchen."

That's all Craig needs. He folds the letter with the number 2 written on the outside and tucks it in his back pocket. Anyone can make a kitchen clean.

He's cleaned kitchens before. He knows what to do. No matter the delivery, every clean kitchen is clean, right? He quickly makes his own list of things to do in the kitchen.

Dishes

Fridge

Counter/table

Floor

Simple enough. Not that he minds Tweek's long and drawn out explanations. Craig's biggest focus has shifted from Tweek's chores to Tweek himself.

Craig is not one to worry about upsetting people, but Tweek has definitely made a soft spot in his heart. If it were Clyde asking him to simply open the door for him Craig would take the effort to slam it in his face.

Craig learned how to make drop-biscuits off of the cooking channel his mom would fall asleep to on weeknights she worked the early shift. It's a simple recipe. Flour, an egg, salt, all basic ingredients any household should hold. The gravy is a little more complex.

He has to use all of the whole milk to get the consistency the way he wants and even adds a pinch of honey to balance the sweetness. When he's finished he has a kings breakfast: biscuits with sausage gravy. Just solid enough for Tweek to feel like he's actually eating food instead of drinking his meals, with sausage gravy on the side for dipping or pouring. Craig rounds the meal off with a glass of chocolate milk with a bendy straw.

Unfortunately, Craig uses the last of the sausage in the gravy, but he and the other boys can go without. Before knocking on Tweek's door Craig sets out three bowls of oatmeal and sends the message "breakfast on the table" to the boys.

Craig doesn't wait for Tweek to open the door to enter. He can't. He hears what he thinks is Clyde's door open about 30 seconds after his message is sent.

He's not afraid of the boys' reactions to the oatmeal that's probably cold by now.

But he certainly can't let them see the effort is going to take for him to make Tweek like him again.