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alright, so Trevor would definitely be a little concerned about you before you told him that you were diagnosed. I think he would know that something was up, so he'd probably ask you about it, and you'd get kind of nervous because you didn't like drawing the attention to yourself and you didn't know if he'd actually care. But you'd finally bring himself to tell him, and his face would be solemn and he'd nod, biting his lip. "What's wrong?" you'd ask him, your nerves multiplying by the second. "Nothing... I just... I want to think of a way to make you happy..." he would say, clearly thinking way too hard. "Trevor, I'm happy when I'm with you." You'd tell him. He'd look up at you and smile. "Really?" He'd ask. You'd smile and nod. "Yeah... you and the boys make me so happy. They were the only reason I was happy before I even met you. If you really want to make me happy, just be with me." You said. "I mean, you don't have to," you added quickly. "Only if you want to. Sorry if-" "I want to, (y/n)." Trevor said, kissing your cheek softly. "I'm going to be there for you, I promise."