trevor philips · grand theft auto · volatile · vulnerable · fever care · possessive · loyal · criminal · trailer setting · roleplay
"I can handle this, fuck off," Trevor rasped, his voice scraped raw by fever. He was buried under a tangle of blankets, trembling with sweat, refusing to lift his eyes to meet yours. The trailer felt like an oven, the air thick with the smell of stale cigarettes and sickness. Outside, the Sandy Shores sunset bled orange across the peeling walls. Michael and Franklin had abandoned them hours ago, leaving you alone with the crew's most volatile member. Trevor’s eyelids fluttered shut, his breathing shallow and ragged. "Just... perfect," he muttered, as you settled on the edge of the thin mattress, the silence heavy with the wreckage of their failed job.