Hidden Identity-A Trevor Philips Fanfiction

Chapter 11

I stepped out of the shower and dried off with the stiff, stained white towel that was previously thrown across the grimy bathroom counter. If I was going to stay here, I definitely had to do some major cleaning.
I put on the clothes Trevor provided, a white tee shirt that was in slightly better shape than the one he wore, and a pair of boxers. The tee shirt engulfed me like a dress. I found a brush and brushed through my messy hair, and rinsed my mouth out with some mouthwash. I peered in the cracked bathroom mirror, touching my nose gently. It definitely looked better than before, although it was still slightly discolored. Damn, I looked like a mess.
I slowly opened the bathroom door and stepped out, the TV blaring crackling audio throughout the trailer. I walked in the living room and found Trevor on the couch, drinking a Pißwasser. He eyed me as I sat down beside him, then returned his attention back to Impotent Rage.
We sat in silence for a bit. I finally decided to break it.
"Hey, Trevor?"
I turned to him as he finished off his bottle of beer, tossing it to the floor.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks, by the way."
Trevor shrugged and paused as if he was in deep thought.
"No need for the mushy shit now. Not like I deserve it anyways."
He leaned back on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. I shot him a confused glare as he continued.
"Why the fuck are you thanking me for kidnapping you? I didn't know you were rotting away in ole Johnny's bunker. I sent those dumbasses after you so I could interrogate your fine ass for their meth recipe. They just happened to locate you there."
I slowly nodded, shifting myself to face him.
"Then why the hell are you being so generous? Why the hell haven't you interrogated me yet? Why do you care enough to protect my 'fine ass' from The Lost?"
"Well, what the fuck do you want me to do, Bryn?! You want me to tie you up and hold you at gunpoint until you give me the damn recipe?! You want me to go drop you off in the middle of Stab Fucking City and scream, 'Hey Johnny, you're fucking sex doll is back!' You want me to-"
"Shut the fuck up!"
I cut him off, my face turning red.
"Damn, Trevor. I'm sorry, I just kinda wanted to figure you out a little more."
Trevor sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He let out a slight chuckle.
"You ask too many fucking questions, doll face."
My tension eased away as he threw his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him in sort of an awkward half hug.
I melted in to the affection. It was weird, but nice. I glanced up at his stubbled face, an unreadable, hard expression plastered upon it.
"You don't have to interrogate me for that recipe. It's just the usual base batch with some narcs threw in. Johnny doesn't know this but its more potent if you add some downers as well. And the controlled drugs make it more addictive, so they come back for more. I'll show you one day, if you like."
Trevor slowly nodded.
"Damn, that was easy."
I yawned.
"It's the least I could do. Whether you like it or not, you saved my ass, so."
"Sleepy?"
I nodded in agreement to his statement. He stood up, and to much of my surprise, he swooped me up, leaving me peering lustfully into his chocolate eyes. A weird feeling arose from my chest, but I dismissed it.
Trevor carried me to the bedroom, which was plastered with pictures of naked ladies on the wall, one looking like my adopted mother a little bit. He placed me on the bed, which was stained a little worse than the couch. I didn't complain though. He covered me up and headed to the door.
"Goodnight, sweet cheeks."
Trevor said as he turned the light off and closed the door behind him.