Trust and Love (Trevor Philips x Reader)

XIX- Burying You For Good

It wasn't too long till you were back home with Trevor in the shared trailer. You missed it in an odd way. It was the most familiar place that you've ever been in and being settled was a thing that was new.

Trevor hadn't left you alone ever since returning from the hospital. His paranoia was through the roof and even had Ron set up a few discreet (meaning poorly hidden in the bushes outside) cameras out and around where you were. You couldn't really move all that great still, healing was a big process but each day you were getting better.

And each day, Trevor sorta was too.

"Oh, so you're deciding on picking up the trash?" You say, looking over to your boyfriend who had groaned at your singsong voice, snatching some trash and clothing from the floor. He tossed it aside carelessly on the futon.

"Don't patronize me. I know you can't move for shit but at least stepping to the bathroom won't be a damn landmine." He growled which only made you smile warmly.

"Thank you." You reached your hand out to him which caught his attention. His gaze was softened and held your hand with his rough one gently.

"Course sweetheart." He smiled then twisted his head towards the door that was nearly ripped off its hinges by a nervous Ron.

"The fuck you nearly tearing down my door for, huh?"

His grasp on your hand had let go, turning into a fist as he stepped over to the other male, practically towering over him with his intimidation.

"It's Michael-"

There was no hesitation on Trevor heading out the door in a fit to meet with Michael.  You could hear the door slam shut.

~~~~~~

Trevor stood a few feet from Michael, already annoyed with his presence.

"Hey, T.''

''Hey, Mikey.''

There was a long and tense silence that grew between the two. Trevor shifted on his feet, his dark gaze having shot straight through Michael's.

''Look, Trevor . . . I just wanted to say that I'm sorry.''

''Sorry isn't going to cut it you two faced, split tongued reptilian turd. You have a lot of fuckin' nerve to come here when I said to fuck off.''

''Would you just listen to me?!"

"No I will not just listen to you, Michael!'' Trevor mocked having taken a couple steps forward, his voice low with anger.

''I've had to listen to you and your tangles of lies long enough. I suggest you climb back in that miserable car and drive back to your miserable house and continue with your miserable life. Stay the fuck outta mine.''

Michael grew quiet, calculating the whole situation at hand but that wasn't going to work this time.

"So you're kickin' me when I'm already down? How like of you to do that.''

That slipped. Wrong choice.

"Ohoho like me, eh? Well, at least I'm not in a failing marriage. At least I don't use others to hide my fuck ups and then when something goes wrong, hide behind more fuck ups to mask my self pity.  You wanna know how many damned times I was kicked on the ground? Plenty!"

"Can't you just accept an apology for fucks sake!" Michael yelled, echoing throughout Sandy Shores. All fell quiet, leaving Trevor to reply. His voice wasn't a bursting bomb. It had looked like he was burnt out.

''Not from you, no. You know, I thought everything was okay. That maybe we could actually bury the hatchet. But somedays I think about returning to your grave and pouring my heart out. I would be sobbing, holding some stolen beer and stupidly getting a tattoo of your name. The saddest days of my life were a fucking lie. No apologies will ever give me that time back.'' Trevor paused, shaking his head in disappointment as he laughed.