Medicina Alternativa

Medicina Alternativa. Ch.05
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this. They belong to the creators of South Park.
-A South Park fanfic. Creek (Craig x Tweek).
-Plot by me.
-Craig is finding himself sick of love and decides he is never going to fall in love again. However much he wants this to be the case, the South Park teen finds it's not all that easy. Especially now he is getting close to his classmate Tweek Tweak….
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Craig collapsed onto the couch. He flipped over to lay on his back, the arm supporting his head like a pillow. Clamping his hands over closed eyes, the complicated teen held in his breath. Not making a single sound. The house quickly transformed into an empty space of bothersome silence. Not a single noise was made by the noirette. As always, the cars driving smoothly past the house, the 'shh' of the wind and the same old birds singing their same old song were the only things to be heard. Their merry little voices bounced up and down in a elegant manor and Craig couldn't help but to feel it'd been like this before, a sudden sense of deja-vu struck.
His thoughts all seemed to scramble helplessly in his mind.
“I've got myself into such a mess!” The teen grumbled to himself, hands remained sealed over his eyelids. Craig's breathing became heavier and he scrunched his face as he felt, once again, that familiar tightening of his throat. I'm not gonna cry any more.
The moment he thought this, Tweek's face materialized in his mind. Messy blonde hair jutting out in all directions. Gorgeous glowing orbs opening up at him. That ghostly complexion of his. A sole tear ran down the vision's cheek. Then another. And another. And another. Soon that one tear had increased to thousands, or too many to count.
Craig gulped. Tweek was crying too. He could feel it.

What would he usually do in a situation like this? He would ignore the person, cut off all contact and just go on like nothing ever happened. As if a dream. Craig tossed over on the couch, flopping his lanky arms down over the side of the couch. This isn't like any situation he'd ever been in before. He can't compare because this is something different? This is something he wants? This is. This is. This is love?

That is it. That's what it is. That's what it must be for there are no other explanations as to why he has these feelings. “I love Tweek.” A hand clamped over his mouth seconds after those words had fallen from his lips. Sapphire eyes squeezed together. 'I don't want to fall in love.'

.~~.

Water dropped from drenched raven black hair and onto the bathroom tiles below. A sea of steam floated about in the small room, Craig pushed his hair back out of his face and grabbed a towel. Wrapping it round his waist, the noirette started towards the mirror. He couldn't see his reflection over the cloudy white which blanketed the entire rectangle of glass. Damn it.
He pursed his lips whilst he wiped his hand across it, clearing an area, now able to view himself. Dull eyes stared back at him. He noticed dark stubble lining his face. He needed to shave again.

Turning away from the mirror, the teen dried himself and headed for his bedroom, dropping the towel sloppily on the floor on his way there. Craig put on clean underwear. Ha. Underwear. It reminded him of when the crazy little blonde, Tweek, used to blab about the 'Underwear Gnomes' coming to take his underwear. The noirette found himself softly smiling at this memory. Idiot.
Flinging the wardrobe doors open, Craig didn't trouble himself over what to wear. A plain white t-shirt and a pair of dark grey jeans were dragged out thoughtlessly. The noirette threw them on, careless of his appearance, then stretched himself out and landed himself on his bed.

Beep.

Oh. Three new text messages? Craig picked up his phone, thumb at the ready to click 'read' . He froze suddenly. They might be from Tweek. He shook his head to clear away any thoughts that had began to sneak up on him then began to view the messages:

Craig, buddy. U busy 2night?

That was from Clyde and had been sent to his phone over 3 hours ago. Oops.
There was another. This time from Token. It read:

Yo Craig. Come over to my place at around 5pm. It's Clyde's Bday remember. We're having a party for him at my home. B there.

Shit. Craig pushed his hand to his forehead. Of course it's Clyde's birthday. He'd probably forgotten because of all the pressure he'd been dealing with lately. His eyes bounced up to the ceiling then back down to the screen of his phone. There was one last message:

Dude where are U? Party started over an hour ago.

Craig figured he should probably attend. So, he text back telling Token he was 'on his way now', rushed back into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He was reminded of his still damp hair when his eyes met the reflection in the mirror. No time to dry it. It would have to dry naturally.
Racing back and forth rooms he obtained thirty dollars from his savings. Grabbed the house key and shoved it in his front pocket, threw on his usual blue coat, his hat and sneakers before rushing out the front door, not forgetting to lock it behind him.
Craig let himself into the garage which was attached to the side of the building of the house. The hurried teen marched to the back of it where a large blue plastic crate lived. It was opened and Craig bought out a large box of his father's beer. It was heavy but he would manage to transport it to Token's house easy enough.
With everything set, garage locked and beer in hand, the noirette made his tracks.

When he was a mere few feet away from the entrance to his black friend's home, something shot at him. Tweek would probably be inside. Why only now had it crossed his mind? Had he been in so much of a rush that he'd forgotten that Tweek might be at the party? Shit. Oh shit. He's the last person he wanted the company of right now. He paused. Exhaled heavily then continued up the driveway. No point turning back now; someone had probably seen him arrive by now. He couldn't simply walk back the direction he'd come if that were the case.
He reached the front double doors of Token's magnificent mansion, rested the box on the doorstep and knocked three times, plain expression set into his features. Who would answer the door? Clyde? Token?...Tweek?
To Craig's surprise, it wasn't any of those people but it was Kenny whom replied his knocking. The two greeted each other and Craig was allowed to enter the household, Kenny assisting the noirette by carrying the beer for him.
“Craig's here!” Muffled shouts announced to the rest of the clan of teens who were apparently shilling in the lounge. “And he bought this 40!” Bringing alcohol to parties was probably what made him 'Mr. Popularity' with the gang. Craig rolled his eyes as he heard the distant complaints of Eric Cartman; “Aw. Craig!? Why's that ass-wipe gotta be everywhere I go.”
From the room, he could hear the voices of Kyle and Stan complaining about which Xbox game to play next; Token and Clyde's gales of laughter; Butter's awkward mumblings and one more voice. This voice wasn't particularly louder than all the rest but to Craig, the uneasy jitters of speech rang in his ears. Tweek of course. Fuck.

Kenny had apparently already left Craig's side and was now bouncing excitedly to join the others, taking the box of beer too. The noirette sighed.
“Ah, Craig,” A friendly voice caught his attention. Hurrying towards him, Clyde bore a wide smile upon his face “come on, Dude. What'cha doing standing around here. Everyone's in the other room.” Before he knew it, Craig had been pulled into the lounge at the wrist by the birthday boy.
A few took the time of day to subtly greet him but the 'hellos' blew straight over the top of his head. His attention was focused elsewhere; to the corner of the room, where artful sparkling eyes had their attention on his purplish navy globes.
Tha-dump.
Tha-dump.
Tha-dump.

Tweek...