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    Summary

    “You good?”

    There’s that question again. Trevor’s face is doing that thing it does, the usual wildness replaced with something Michael can’t make out. He hates that look. He'd take furious Trevor, gun-in-hand Trevor, over this one every time. He goes to take another sip from his whiskey, but there’s nothing left at the bottom of the cup.

    “I’m good, T. Tired, didn’t sleep well last night.”

    Trevor looks at him from across the couch, eyes narrowed, irritated. “You can tell me if you’re having a shit time, man, I’m not going to make a thing out of it.”

    “It’s not a thing, would you just drop it? I’m fine. Really fucking good, actually.”

    Trevor looks at him again, lips pursed in annoyance. At that moment, Michael thinks about how he could always kill himself.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    14,593
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
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    Kudos:
    113
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