Tristan's POV

After signing all the papers, we were finally allowed to leave the hospital. As me and Lorna step out of the hospital, we automatically fall into laughter as people continued to glare at us.

"Did you hear that man?" Lorna laughs, as we walk to my car like we're both drunk.

"Excuse moi, but that's not your papers." I pull off my best French accent, causing redhead to fall on the floor with laughter.

"Okay... Okay! Now let's go back to mine. We could have a Brooklyn Nine Nine marathon." Lorna suggests and I nod, dancing around the car.

She laughs before pulling me into the car, sitting me down in the passenger's seat— Wait. Can she drive a car?

"Wait, can you actually drive a car? Why did you put me in the passenger's seat?" I ask, I don't want her to crash my baby, okay?

"You've gone high, I have a feeling they drugged you there." she laughs, putting the key into the car.

"Plus I passed my driver's test first time when I was 17, but I don't have a car cause... You know. But I'm trying to get rid of it, like you said."

I smile as she listened to my advice, looking outside. The sky looked different, but a good different. Like the sky was blue and purple at the same time.

"Tristan?"

"Yes?"

"I haven't really gotten to know you lately so... Could I ask a few questions?" she asks and I smile, no one haven't wanted to get to know me before.

"Um yeah sure. Shoot."

"What's your full name?" she questions, me laughing at the question.

"Tristan Oliver Vance Evans. I hate it." I say, cringing of the thought of it. Mother, why do you hate me soo much?

"Why do you hate it? I rather like it."

"Vance. What type of name is Vance?" I say and she shurggs, her eyes watering up.

"Oh, I'm sorry Lorna. I didn't mean to offend you." I apologise but she ignores me, reaching the house and stopping the car.

"Lorna..."

She gets out of the car, slams the door and walks to the house, unlocking it. I sigh as I copy her, getting out of the car and into the house.

I see her sitting down on the sofa, as I walk over and join her. She moves away and I inch closer to her. She sighs before turning to me and putting my head on my shoulder, sobbing quietly.

"Lorna... Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry." she mumbles, sniffling as I stroke her red hair.

"No I am. I shouldn't have offended you."

"Tris... Do you know the story of how I got dystychiphobia?"

Wait. She called me Tris. She's never called me that before. But anyway, she hasn't mentioned the story. Do you think I should? But I don't wanna be rude... yet she brought it up.

"No."

"Well, do you want to know?"

"Sure... I guess."

He's desperate to know, even though he's shit scared to find out.