momma i'm in love with a criminal | trevor philips

Chapter IV

Fuck it I love you - Lana Del Rey

A notification on my phone woke me up. My burning eyes checked to see what it was. Just a message from my professor. It was an email. I read the email and it said the essay must be more than three thousand words. I rolled my eyes in ignorance. I needed to work on that damn essay more. I was still lost on what to write about, though.

Title: Welcome to Los Santos, Sugar

P1:
Not only was this something I didn't expect to happen, but it was also something I don't regret happening.

P2:
I've gone absolutely mad. My fingers are shaking. It was a doomed love story. When you watched me struggling to hold onto the light to the heavens gates, when my sandpaper touch tickled and burned your skin. When I took my last breath.

P3:
We can get through this together, I'd repeatedly write down on my crowded notebook. I know you're a crazy man but it is all perfect for me. I'm just as crazy as you, my love. I know deep down in my fading soul that I'm just as perfect for you as you are for me.

I paused writing on my piece of paper, looking at everything I've written. I'd surprised myself. I wrote all of that. How did I even come up with that? This seems like something a psychopath would've written.

Perfect.

P4:
When, when will you see this? Will you come to visit my stone and caress it, leaving a hint of rose? Even when you tell me there's no time to die I will still cry. My tears shed the blood of my corpse when I smack the ground, centuries of feet above the air from where I had fallen.

That's where I stopped. I set the pen down and stood up, backing away from the paper like it was an explosive. My hands ruffled through my unbrushed hair. Then I felt it. His arms. This feeling was killing me slowly.

Fuck it, I love you. It raced through my head. Fuck it, I thought again. I really do. Trevor. I'm in love with Trevor. I could feel the saliva building up in the back of my throat. I didn't want to accept that I was feeling these feelings for a crazy man, but I am.

I could almost feel his arms around me like how they were last night. Goosebumps formed on my skin, the hair on my arm standing up.

This had to be some weird girl phase I'm going through, right? I mean, there wasn't actually a way I was in love with Trevor goddamn Philips.

There was a knock at my door, I quickly got out of that mindset and opened the door. Tiffany stood there with a grin on her face. "We've got breakfast!" She squealed. She pushed open my door and in came one of her maids with a table that had lots of food on it.

"Oh, my," I gasped. There was so much food. Pancakes. Waffles. French toast. Eggs. Bacon. Sausage. My mouth was watering.

"We've got everything! What would you like?" Tiffany asked. I couldn't decide. The eggs looked good but so did the waffles and the french toast. And even the sausage. "I want eggs, sausage, and french toast." The maid put the dish on the plate as I spoke. Is this what rich life really was? People doing things for you?

The maid handed me the plate. "What would you like to drink?" The maid spoke. There was orange juice, apple juice, milk, or water. "I'll have some orange juice," I smiled politely. There was a clear glass cup next to a stack of plates and orange juice was already there, waiting to be poured. I took the glass and chugged the juice almost immediately, I was super thirsty. I'd forgotten to eat or drink last night.

"Thank you so much," I said, walking over to the desk and setting the plate down. The maid left the room and Tiffany stayed behind.

I looked over at her and it seemed like something was on her mind. "What's wrong?" I wanted to know. "What did you do at the club last night?" She had that voice of the gossipy girl that was always involved in drama. "Uhm"—I had to lie—"Drank, danced, you know, party things."