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If there was one thing that scared Tweek more than anything else, it was final exams. Just the words alone caused the blonde to have a mini anxiety attack every time he heard them, but putting the words together made him want to pass out. The thought of all of his hard work being measured by a 50 or so questioned test stressed him out to no end. How the hell was he supposed to study for a test when he didn't know what was supposed to be on it?
Luckily Craig was kind enough to set up a study date created specifically for the two of them; a practice test he'd somehow got a hold of (he wouldn't tell Tweek how he got it or who he got it from), assorted stress relieving items in case Tweek needed to take a small break, a timer to make sure they wouldn't go over the allotted time limit, and some snacks if either of them got hungry.
With such thorough planning, what could go wrong?
The answer: a lot of things.
The sound of pencil scratching on paper was the only sound in the room. The timer on Tweek's read 47:19, indicating that they had a fair amount of time left. Craig was working on the short responses section of the test while Tweek was still on the multiple choice section. He made a small panicked noise causing Craig to look up for a moment.
"Need a break?" He questioned quietly, receiving a shaken head as a response. He didn't think much of it, so he went back to his paper. Tweek frowned as he reread the question he was stuck on for the past 10 minutes.
Why did the author choose to include sentence 7 in paragraph 1 instead of paragraph 3?
How was he supposed to know?! He wasn't the fucking author! He didn't even know who the author was! He clenched his pencil nervously and closed his eyes. Maybe if he relaxed, he could be able to come up with an answer that made sense. After a moment of thinking, he finally decided that 'B' seemed like the most logical of the four options. After marking it, Craig spoke up again.
"30 more minutes. You almost done?"
Shit. He still had about 20 more questions and 5 more short answer responses. He could probably get it done in time.
What if he didn't finish? What if he missed everything and failed? What if this date was all just a waste and Craig would realize what a terrible boyfriend he was and broke up with him? What if he failed the real test and failed the class? What if he had to be held back another year? All his friends would mock him and never hang out with him. He would graduate and not be able to go to a good college and be homeless and alone and and...
"Tweek? You okay?" The voice was so far away. It sounded like Craig but he couldn't be sure. It was just his mind. Just his mind. He was going crazy. He was crazy. Crazy for thinking he could actually handle a date right now. Crazy for thinking Craig actually like him and this wasn't all some stupid prank he was pulling. Crazy for thinking anything.
He felt a hand slowly grasp his left one. It was calm and still. It made him realize that he was shaking. Why was he shaking? Why was there a hand over his? Whose hand was it? What if it wasn't real and he was just imaging it? He quickly took his hand away and held it with his other hand, softly digging his nails into the back of it.
It was at this point where Craig got concerned. Sure, Tweek has his panic attacks every now and then, but this was new. Normally, he'd still know what was going on around him and make an attempt to pull himself together but he wasn't doing it this time. Instead, he curled himself into a ball, his nails digging into his hands -thankfully, not hard enough to tear skin- and was mumbling something unintelligible.
"Tweek, are you okay..?" No response.
Scooting closer to his panicking boyfriend, Craig softly took both of Tweek's hands in his own and squeezed lightly. He felt a light tug but held them tighter, frowning. He heard a muffled "let go," and did as he was told.
"Please tell me what's wrong. I wanna help you," No response.
Finally accepting defeat, Craig pushed all of the study materials to the side of the bed they weren't on, some on the floor as well, and laid next to the shaking boy. They laid in silence for what seemed like forever until he noticed that in the midst of his panic attack, Tweek had fallen asleep. Craig sighed lightly and sat up, careful not to wake the other.
It was at that exact moment that the timer went off with a loud obnoxious buzzing noise. Craig flinched and turned it off before it would awaken Tweek. It was too late. The slightly shorter boy sat up and rubbed at his eyes. Craig took a moment to look at him and felt slightly worried. There were dry tear trails leading down to his cheek. His eyes were watery and red. His hands and wrists had small crescent marks on them, with even some looking bruised and slightly bloody.
"You okay?" A head shake.
"Wanna talk about it?" Another head shake.
"Okay...wanna cuddle or some shit?" A nod.
Craig laid down again and felt Tweek snuggle against him. He leaned in to place a small kiss on the other's forehead and sighed. "You know you can talk to me about stuff and tell me when you don't feel okay, right?" Another nod. Tweek opened his mouth to say something but Craig cut him off. "I mean, you don't have to talk now if you don't want to. I understand. Just like, tell me when you don't feel right and all, okay?" This time the nod was accompanied by a small smile. After another forehead kiss, Craig mumbled a soft "love you," before falling asleep.