I stand in front of Craig's house, sweating, out of breath, but somehow freezing to death. It's snowing way harder then it has so far this year. I didn't slip on any ice because there isn't any left in sight. It's all buried in snow, which by now has reached at least three feet. I watch it fall as I try to catch my breath. I wipe the sweat from my brow, looking up at the Tucker's mahogany front door.

I ran here without thinking. I don't know what I am gonna say. I don't even know why I'm here. I can't go to a concert! I'd have a panic attack. I'd probably die. Unless I were on enough drugs but I've been cutting back. My anxiety is deafening. It just keeps getting worse.

Why am I here? I ran the whole way. I should just go back. I don't have anything to say to Craig. It's so cold out here. I'm gonna get hypothermia if I stay out here too long but the run back might keep me alive enough to get to my house.

I glance back and my jaw drops. The snows is falling faster and harder than a few seconds a go. The snow levels raised dangerously just in the matter of minutes. I can't go back. I can't go in.

The door opens and I scream behind my hand. Craig watches me with bored eyes. "That was fast." He says. His hair is wet and sticks to his face. "I wasn't expected you for another five minutes." He pauses and his eyes narrow, looking particularly sharp. "Did you run?" I just let out a heavy breath. "Come inside. It's cold." I begin to speak but it turns into a bunch of stuttering and noises but it's a protest. He knows it is. Maybe he can drive me home. But Craig groans and grabs my hand, pulling me in the house and shutting the door.

It's too warm to refuse. There's a fire going in the living room and the TV is playing old Red Racer reruns. Craig's wearing a faded t shirt and some gym shorts. He saunters into the kitchen and grabs a carton of orange juice. He tilts his head back and pours it into his mouth. I grimace. That's very unsanitary. I need to remember to never drink anything in Craig's house. I suppose I have kissed him. Still...

"You wanna take that coat off. Its warm in here." I don't say anything. I don't know what I'm doing here. "You're mute now?" He asks, amused. "Okay. Well, what'd you come over for?"

I maneuver out of my coat and shuffle into the living room, placing myself on the couch, in silence. I don't know the answer to that yet. "Can you change the channel to the news?" Craig calls from the kitchen. "I'm gonna run upstairs and grab some blankets."

I grab the remote and click to the news. The news lady switches to the weather man who warns that a blizzard is currently overhead and if you're not inside, you might wanna get there. I glance out the window but there's not much except white and grey. I can see wind blowing furiously and I know that I won't be getting home anytime soon. Craig returns with the blankets. I begin to warn him, "They said there's a-"

The lights and TV all shut off at the same time with the sound of the heater powering down. Fire light dances across the left side of Craig's face. "What was that?" He asks me.

"Did the power just go out? Was that the heater?" Craig shrugs and I sigh, "They said it's a blizzard. Can your dad fix the heater?"

Craig lays a blanket in from of the fire and drops the rest on top in a pile. "Yes. He can fix almost anything... if he were here." My face drops. "I know. It sucks right. First you get stuck here with me and now we have to us each other to stay warm. It's the end of the world." He speaks, monotonously.

"If we f- f- freeze it is! Is no one home?! What if the blizzard lasts a week? And we run out of food? What if the power never comes back on or-"

"Tweek, please," Craig sits on the blankets. "Are you off your meds?" He asks.

I scoff, "What?"

He shrugs, "I can tell. You seem jittery. Just not stable."

"Not stable?" I gap. "How can you..." I shake my head. Craig is an asshole, how can he not? He's right too, I am unstable. I'm a fucking mess. I'm crazy, bonkers, off the rails. This whole town thinks I'm psycho, my parents, my friends, and now even Craig. He probably always did. Why did I think he didn't?

They're all conspiring against me, I bet. I'm just sitting here waiting to be sent off. I don't belong there! They can't send me to a mental institution! But I'm crazy! Not normal. I get jitters and I twitch when I'm nervous. I drink too much coffee. I'll never grow another inch. I need coffee now. The coffee machine is off. No power. No coffee.

"Hey, would you calm down?" Craig glances at me. "What is the problem?" He gets up and sits on the couch next to me, entirely too close. He's entirely too close. A memory of me kicking Craig in the groin after him pressuring me flashes in my mind. I need more space. I need more air. And I need caffeine. I will eat the grounds. I don't care. I need it. I scoot over until I'm against the arm of the sofa. "What's wrong, Tweek?"

Craig sudden change in tone is unnerving and suspicious. "I c- cant think- I- I- I can't breath right. I need coffee but there's none and I can't make some but I need it. I don't want to go away!"

Craig looks confused. He leans in about to speak again but I flip, "AND I NEED SPACE! I. need. space!" I shove him away from me and then stare at him with wide, frightened eyes. "I'm- I'm sorry- Gah!" I grab my hair. "I want to be home."

Craig stands. Now he'll leave me. He'll leave me to die alone. "The stove probably still works." He says. "If I boil water, you think you could make coffee?"

I blink at him, holding my hair back and out of my face, suddenly feeling twenty degrees too warm. "Maybe."

"Calm down." He tells me. Not in a rude way like people usually do which makes me only freak out more because I figure I'm bothering them with my existence and I don't know what to do about it, he says it like he genuinely wants me to try to calm down and knows there's no way for him to help me. Their isn't. No one can help me. Not even medication can help me. I'm pathetic.

I can hear Craig in the kitchen and focus instead on the noises he makes. Cupboard opening, dishes clanking, cupboard closing, water running, the clicking of the stove, and finally low humming from the niorette. My heart throbs. I should've stayed home. But here I am.

I came here to tell him I'd go with him to the concert but that's not even possible. I can't be with one person without panicking. How could I handle hundreds? Simple: I couldn't. So why am I here? Why don't I ever think through things before I do them? I think so much about irrelevant shit but I can't think through simple decisions like running to Craig's house through a snow storm about something I've decided I couldn't do anyway.

"It's boiling." Craig informs me.

I abandon the couch. "I hope you have a strainer or something."

"Uh, I don't know what that is but if we had one it'd be in the drawer to your left."

The only light is spilling through the kitchen window. Despite the curtains being drawn completely back still isn't a lot due to the storm outside. I open the drawer. Its full of miscellaneous kitchen utensils. I find a strainer and thank the heavens for Mrs. Tucker. I grab their coffee grounds and mix it with the hot water. Craig watches, which means, despite his expression he's interested. I mix the water and grounds. Then I grab a mug, hold the strainer over the cup and more the mixture through. I work fast and recklessly. I spill grounds and coffee everywhere. I can't even care. It's not like the counter was spotless to begin with and I need this. Fast. I drop the strainer in the sink and sip from the mug, pleased.

"Shouldn't the caffeine just make you more jittery?" Craig asks. I shrug because it doesn't so there. No, it does but it keeps me in a good mindset and that's more important. "Are you feeling better?" I nod. "Good. You wanna tell me why you're here now?"

"I didn't want you to ask Red to the concert." I admit.

Craig snorts, "I never was. You're really gullible." He tells me. "Also predictable. I just wanted to see you."

My face heats up. "I can't go to the concert." I add.

"Why not?"

I avert my eyes, "I couldn't handle the people." I remember the elevator and add, "And how could you? You're claustrophobic and you're okay with being smushed together with a bunch of strangers?"

"Hey," he points a finger at me, "do not label me." He says, sternly. "And, yeah, it's possible I'll freak but it might not happen if I'm not thinking about it." He says. "And if I'm watching the concert, I don't think I would be. Plus, if I did I could just go to the bathroom and calm down. It'll be fine. And you'll be good too if you're drunk."

"Craig, no, I can't do that."

"Why?"

His eyes burn into mine and I can't hold his gaze long. "Because,"

"Why don't you like me anymore. Maybe you never did. Were we only hanging out because of the project?"

My eyes widen with bewilderment, "Weren't we?!"

"Oh," he says.

"What's that?" I ask. "What's the 'oh' for?"

"I don't know." He leans on the counter. "I just thought we were friends."

"You should of said that!" I snap, annoyed that I have been worrying about irrelevant shit again. "I thought you didn't like me."

"What the hell, Tweek?" He asks, looking as irritated as me. "I said it the first night at your house."

I stop. "Liar."

"I'm not lying."

"Are you serious?" He sighs and covers his face with his hand. "When? I- I don't remember that!"

"I don't remember the exact details, dude, but it happened."

I shake my head, "I didn't remember. I was high. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." He waves me off. "Let's just move on."

"Okay." I mumble, feeling the most stupid I've felt in my entire life. That's a lie. I've had a lot of moments. Some that weren't even my fault when I look back on it now. I hate children. They're so ignorant and intolerant. I'm talking about bullying. I digress.

"Why would you keep thinking that if I was texting you? You just ignored them. If anything I should think you don't wanna be my friend."

"I thought we were moving on."

"Whatever." He starts back for the living room.

"I didn't trust it." I answer anyways, stalking behind him a few feet.

"This trust shit. We'll never trust each other. That's just that." I don't know what that means exactly but it makes me unhappy. He's right but I want to be able to trust Craig. Its just something I can't see happening. I don't really trust anyone. There's Kenny but I don't even really trust Bebe.

Craig sits himself back in front of the fire and I settle next to him. I chuckle, remembering something from earlier. It wasn't particularly amusing at the moment but now the mood's lighter. Craig raises an eyebrow at me, "What's so funny?"

"You still watch Red Racer." I say. "They've stopped making episodes, man. There are only two seasons. How many times have you re-watched it?"

Dare I say Craig looks offended. Maybe shocked. "Red Racer is legendary." He tells me. "You couldn't re-watch the series enough in a lifetime!" He says. I mouth an 'oh' and nod understandingly. His eyes narrow, "Have you ever watched it?"

I tap my chin, "I recall watching one episode when I was little. I didn't like it."

He stares at me, not blinking. "Are you joking? Which one?"

I shrug and shake my head, "I don't know. He was racing this guy with a monkey. The monkey wore a green helmet."

Craig scowls, "Green racer... I know what episode you're talking about but you shouldn't judge the whole series on one episode." He says. "One day you should come over and we can watch it together. I guarantee you'll like it then."

I imagine us doing that now and my heart soars. But, of course, the power is out and all we're left with to entertain ourselves is this fire. I do find my mug to be pretty interesting though, when I know the only other thing to look at would be Craig and that's not gonna happen.

I feel like his eyes see through my very being. Like he could tell if I were lying or hiding something. Maybe he could even see my soul. How scary. I wonder if he knows he's doing it. He must. He probably does it on purpose. I bet he has powers. If any one person in the world had powers, it'd definitely be Craig. If not him being able to read minds, then the ability to turn people to ice or stone with his cold stare. But maybe he really can't help it. Maybe he even resents it. I imagine it puts off a lot of people. It could isolate him. And if that's not what he wants, could be a lonely existence. I get that.

The temperature dropping isn't gradual and is very noticeable. I grab one of the blankets and wrap it around me. "No one's home." Craig says, answering my long forgotten question. "Ruby went with my mom to visit our grandma. Dad's working." I nod, finishing my coffee with a content sigh. "How are your parents."

I glance at Craig. I wish he wouldn't ask questions like that. Him and Kenny. It's bothersome. It doesn't matter how I feel. Why do they care so much? What does telling them do other than make them realize how much I suck and feel bad for me? Why would I want that? "My parents are fine." I say, stiffly.

"That's good." He drops it. It's quiet now besides the fire cracking. "How come you don't want to come with me to the concert?"

"I want to." I defend. "I just can't. I'm not gonna get drunk for that."

"What do you mean? You love getting drunk."

I clench my jaw. "You don't know me enough to say that. You hardly know me at all."

"You're pretty easy to read." He says, his hand combs through his hair. It's still damp so it sticks up in the front.

"I doubt that. I think I look easy to read."

"Yeah, I read that about you."

I let out a deep sigh. "You don't know anything about me so just shut up."

He shrugs, "Maybe you're right." Hail starts to hit the house from outside. The wind roars against the walls. I bundle myself tighter. Out of all the people to be stuck inside with. I'd rather have Bebe or at least Kenny. We'd probably fuck through the whole thing. That wouldn't even make me mad. "Can I try to figure it out?"

I blink the niorette. "Huh?"

"Who you are. Can I try to figure it out?" He repeats, watching me.

I shrink under his gaze. "Do whatever you want."

"Why did you kiss me? Before."

Blood rushes to my face. "I- I don't remember, man. It was a while ago. I was high."

"Do you just kiss people like that often?"

I glare at him, "Do you just let people suck your dick like Thomas often." I'm not sure if I can try to make Craig seem at fault for letting me kiss him in the first place. What angle am I going at here?

His lips purse, "No. He was the only one and he wanted to. I didn't mean to offend you. I just meant, if it were someone else, like Stoley, and he came over and you two smoked would you have kissed him."

I snort, "Craig, I hardly think or would have happened the way it did with anyone else but you." His eyes turn to the fire. "I mean, if I got partnered with Stoley we would have just done the project. But, since you're a fucking weirdo, things went differently. No one would have been in my closet. No one would have pulled out my pipe. None of it would have happened. Plus, a guy wouldn't have kissed me. Even if he were gay."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true!" I exclaim. "Everyone knows I'm crazy. And why did you? You're not even straight! You don't feel anything."

"I love it when you say that." Craig mutters, sarcastically. "I have feelings, asshole. And, you know what? I have feelings particularly for you so shut up." He says, silencing me. "You don't know me, as it would turn out."

Silence fills the room once more. Feelings. I replay his words in my head a few times, contemplating my next words. "Feelings for me." I finally say. "You must know how that sounds."

"I know what I said." He says, simply. "I said what I meant. Feelings don't have to be romantic." Meaning his aren't.

"So what the hell are you talking about, douchebag?!"

"I don't know!" Craig snaps back. "But if I didn't like you, do you think you'd be here right now?"

"I don't get it!" I grab my hair and shake my head. "I don't get you! You're playing games because you think I'm weak. Just leave me alone! I'm not like Thomas, I'm not just gonna blow you because you're hot!"

"I don't think you're weak. I know you aren't." Craig starts. "And I'm not that shallow." He stops talking. He turns to look out the window. It's all white and and the wind is blowing like crazy. "You're kind of insensitive. I didn't read that about you."

I make a face, "Aw, did I hurt your feelings again?"

"Again?" He smirks.

"Last time was when I said Token's abs are better than yours."

He scoffs, "You didn't hurt my feelings." He says, confidently. "Just forget it."

"What type of feelings, Craig?" My heart is racing. I cover the bottom half of my face with the blanket. It smells like him.

"Um, I don't know, Tweek. One's that make me want you around. I just don't understand why it's such a big deal." He says. "To Toke and Clyde, I mean. They act like they know something I don't. How could they? I should know more than them, right?"

"Clyde said you thought I was cute."

"Yes." Craig says.

When I glance at him from his response he's starting at me fixedly. I yelp and cover my face. "What? Why are you staring at me?" I peek through my fingers. Craig is smiling now, but still staring.

"What're you hiding from?"

"You're eyes are scary." I say, re-covering my own eyes, shielding them from his. When he smiles though, his eyes are less scary and more attractive. Like magnets to my eyes.

"Oh." He says. "Sorry. I just..." Craig's hands take a hold on one of my wrists. My eyes grow as he brings my hand away from my face. Craig's closer now than he was when we were on the couch but now I feel more than okay with it. "I really want to kiss you right now." He says. His eyes are hypnotic. I don't like looking at them but right now I can't avert my gaze. His eyes lower to my lips. My breath stops and for a moment I feel like time comes to a halt.

"Craig,"

"Sorry." Craig begins to sit back.

I almost gasp from him stopping so suddenly and grab his shirt to pull him back. He gives me raised eyebrows, that soon settle and a smirk etches it's way onto his features. "I- I-" I stutter.

Craig snorts and presses his lips against mine. I take in a deep breath through my nose. He's so cold compared to me. I feel like I'm overheating.

His mouth moves slowly against mine. How is this different? How is this different than when I kiss Kenny? I don't have feelings for Kenny, just like I don't have feelings for Craig. But as he kisses me I can feel my heart pound against my ribs and my head's so hot, it feels like my brain is melting and might spill out of my ears. Everything inside me is building up in the pit of my stomach and I wonder what will happen when it overflows.

Craig gradually slips the blanket from my shoulders and then his hand pushes my shoulder back until I'm laying down On the blanket and he's over me. My hands find the back of his neck. One of them starts into his hair, pishing him into me more. He bites down on my bottom lip and my heart skips. Is it possible for one person to be so perfect?

The sound of us kissing drowns out the wind and the hail that's started outside. Craig's hand that isn't holding him over me starts to unbutton my poorly done up shirt. Slowly, but somehow gracefully one after another, my shirt slowly opening. His hand glides over my stomach.

Craig lifts up to open my shirt and slide it off but stops. His eyes focus in on my neck and my chest and his whole demeanor drops. He sighs. I sigh. He closes my shirt and goes back to his original sitting position.

I blink and sit up. "I don't want sloppy seconds." He says. "It feels gross. All I would be able to think about would be Kenny. That's very unappealing for me. I don't even know how I like you." He glances at me. "No offence."

I tune Craig out and just try to catch my breath. When I'm with Kenny my heart beats faster but it's just a reaction from the stimulation. Craig only kissed me. His fingers felt like fire on my skin.

"I'm sorry." I say.

"It's not your fault." Craig tells me. "It's not like we're in a relationship. You can do whatever you want."

"I'd rather make out with you than Kenny." I admit with a faint blush.

Craig smirks, "That makes me feel good to know, believe it or not."

"Do you like me, Craig?" I ask, still laying on my back.

Craig hums in consideration, "Yeah, I guess." I'm not gonna ask him to elaborate. I don't know if he means he just likes me in general or how I meant when I asked. I'm not gonna ask because I like this warm tingly feeling too much. And right now, as we are, I'm really happy. I'm happy in a way Kenny and Bebe can't make me feel. I'm happy in a way where I'll go home and when I think back on it, it will still make me happy.

I have a crush on Craig. And now, I'm stuck in a house with him. It doesn't look like his storms letting up soon either. It looks like it's only getting worse.

sorry for long wait and thanks for love. Keep foloowing and favoriting and reviewing. You guys ask how I update all the time. Easy: I love this story and I love you so there. How could I not?