The weirdest thing about visiting Stark's Pond at night was the fact that I hadn't been there in such a long time. It was much darker than I remembered, the only thing illuminating the water being the glow from the moon and stars above. It reflected the night sky in such a mesmerizingly beautiful way. Oh great, I'm beginning to sound like some cheesy hopeless romantic.

Tweek had left my house to go back home and assure his parents that he hadn't been kidnapped, leaving me to do nothing for the rest of the day until dark. We were meeting at around midnight if I remembered correctly but my mind deceived me a lot so to make sure I had arrived earlier than the time set in my head. I didn't have work but I have no clue as to whether or not he had occupied the shop that afternoon. It seemed like he worked everyday, where as I only worked a few days a week and occasionally graveyard shifts on the weekends.

The pond was covered in a thin layer of ice, one that would shatter if anyone were to step foot on it. It was quite the sight to behold. I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from it, really. It brought back a lot of memories from the nights I snuck out and came here to just think and be by myself. I remembered the first time I told Tweek that this was where I went to just relax. It had been a weird thing for me to do but I trust him enough to tell him all about the places I went to hide and resolve the make-believe wars in my mind.

Anyone who knows me well enough would know that I enjoyed my time at Stark's Pond but out of those people the only person I had ever invited to actually join me was Tweek Tweak.

My thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of crunching leaves getting closer and closer to where I sat on the bench. I didn't need to look behind me to know that the hesitant shuffling of feet was exactly who I was supposed to be meeting that night.

"Craig?" the unmistakable voice of the only person whose opinion actually matters to me lifted into my eardrums. I turned around in my seat only to be greeted by the shaking figure of exactly who I thought would be there; Tweek Tweak.

"Hey," I greeted, feeling a strange mixture of both awkward and an overwhelming sense of exhilaration.

It was a bit too dark to see exactly what he was wearing but I could have sworn that was my shirt clinging to his body that night. The thought had caused my stomach to grow warm and somehow fuzzy in an odd, almost unexplainable way. With caution and reluctance, Tweek made his way over to me and sat down. Although he was a fair distance away from me, we were still sitting on the same bench.

There was an awfully long silence that met us at that moment, though I wasn't sure if it was actually long or if time just slowed down due to the whole awkwardness of this entire situation. I turned to look out at the frozen over pond in an attempt to indulge myself in happy nostalgic thoughts. That proved hard to do.

"Ngh - you're right," said Tweek.

I wasn't expecting him to speak so when he did, it startled me a bit. I didn't flinch, nor did I make any sudden sounds or movements. I simply just wasn't prepared for him to actually talk to me. I decided that staying silent wouldn't help any so I voiced my thoughts, "About what?"

I was watching him from the corner of my eyes by this point but his own were glued to the scenery, "It is - ERK - r-really cool."

I nodded, "I thought you'd like it.."

"I do," a small smile broke out onto his features, "W-we should do this more often."

I had no idea what to say by this point other than a small "yeah" since this was an amazing thing to me. Slowly, very slowly, we were becoming friends again. The fact that he said we should do this more just proved that he was going to give me a second chance. I just hope I don't screw it up again.

The two of us just sort of sat there in what I perceived as comfortable silence. It really was as peaceful as I had pictured it and I now understood why this was Craig's favorite place to just relax. The moon was high above us, the stars were shining brightly through the thin clouds. The snow had stopped earlier that night, leaving only a sheer layer to reside on the ground below. I could have stayed there forever.

But all good things come to an end.

"It's getting really late," Craig stated to what seemed to me like an out of the blue comment.

Then it hit me like a gnome on a mission, "GAH! What if my parents find out that I sn-snuck out?!?! What if they ground me until I'm - ARGH - until I'm TWENTY-ONE?!?!" I started to pull at my hair, which was more of a bad habit than anything else, "Oh God, what time is it!? Th-the Underpants gnomes might have already - erk - gotten to my boxers! NGH, THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE!"

There was a painful silence that ensued after that, with me freaking out because who wouldn't be terrified at what would happen?! I was outside for such a long time and I even SNUCK OUT! I snuck out of the goddamn house and now my parents are going to disown me and send me to some sort of military camp or whatever. Either way, I'm totally screwed!

"..Dude."

Then again they probably already hate me because of my stupidity and anxiety and lack of-

"Dude."

-ability to focus on things for long periods of time -

"Tweek."

- and maybe they've tried to get rid of me already but failed because they don't know how to ship me away without doing something illegal -

"Tweekers, snap out of it," Craig's voice finally broke through my thoughts. He sounded irritated yet patient at the same time.

"But, Craig-"

Said teenager interrupted me before I could explain to him the life and death situation that I had gotten myself into, "I'm not going to let you get into too much trouble."

I paused. Every thought that had just galloped its way across my mind seemed to have completely up and disappeared, leaving me a blank canvas with no paints or brushes. What was I supposed to respond to that with? Sometimes I think that he's just pretending to enjoy my company while other times I can see the regret lingering in his eyes. I don't know what to believe in anymore, to be completely honest.

Should I trust him?

My gaze hesitantly turned to him. He wasn't even looking at me, which gave me the feeling that he wasn't even paying attention to what he was saying himself. For all I know, Craig could be a thousand miles away in his own thoughts just blurting out whatever came to his mind first. So the answer to my previous question would be no, I don't think I can trust him.

I tore my eyes away from his shadowy figure and stood up, taking in a deep breath of the crisp early morning air.

I tried not to look at Craig as I slowly walked away from the bench we had been occupying. I was going to have to walk home quickly, maybe even make a run for it if it seems necessary. That was, until the voice I had grown so used to way back when stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Tweek," it was weird the way he said my name seemed so different than when other people say it, "I'll walk you home."

And just like that I could feel his presence right next to me. I could feel his body heat radiating off of him and making its way toward my own body to mix with my own natural heating system.

"Um.... o-okay," was all that I could think of to say.

We walked to my house in silence, aside from the occasional noises of anxiety that I let out of course. It wasn't as comfortable of a silence as it was when we were sitting side by side but I was still grateful for it. Not as grateful as I was when we finally got to my doorstep, though.

A small sigh of relief escaped my lips, which was quickly replaced with a nervous trembling. My dad was supposed to be working the night shift, so he was currently at Harbucks. My mom, however, was still home and I was praying to any god that would hear me out that she was asleep.

All of a sudden, an overwhelming warmth overcame my entire body as two arms made their way around me. I was tugged close to a taller figure - one that I easily recognized as Craig himself. He was hugging me with a force that clearly stated that he didn't want to let me go but also said that he was scared I'd snap in his grip.

No, I doubt it. That was just my wishful thinking.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into my blonde, rats nest of hair.

I leaned into him but refused to hug back, "I know."