𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 ➺ 𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀 / 𝘀𝘁𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿

𝑿𝑰

_______________________________

Why can't I see anything?
Damn.
Oh shit, wait.

Quinn twitches awake moving her arm to overcome the numbness engrossing every part of her body. She winces as her eyes slowly adjust to the blinding luminescent light above her.

Déjà vu much...

"She's waking up." The muffled sound of multiple frantic voices echoed, but she could barely hear anything. What happened to me..? Quinn slowly cracked open her eyes to see several doctors looking down at her. Once they realized the girl fully regained consciousness they left the room— except one.

The silhouette of a tall, lean man stood in the door frame. "Glad to see you awake, Quinn."
I recognize that voice...
No, no, no, are you kidding me.

"Don't you ever get tired of constantly following me around?" She groans, wishing to sink into the bed and dissolve. "Well naturally, I was worried. You did get shot after all." His voice was laced with concern. "I've endured worse." Her response was greeted with silence. The man didn't know what to say to her after that response. Suddenly Quinn remembered something— his name.

"Intern."

I need to ask him his name to see if he will lie or not.

"Yes." The man immediately perks up and closes the space between the two. "What's your name?" She gave him a subtle side glance to see the surprise written on his face. "O-Oh uh, Oliver Dexten." Oliver rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "Dexten? That sounds familiar..." She trails off glancing at him to see his reaction— he looked nervous.

"Have we ever met Mr. Dexten?"

"N-No, I don't believe so..." He answers quickly. "I see." She replies shortly before sitting up in the bed. "Woah, Woah, what are you doing you need to rest!" Oliver suddenly reaches for Quinn's shoulder trying to push her back down onto the bed. Quinn rips off the several devices attached to her body— much to Oliver's dismay. "How long was I out for Mr. Dexten?"  "Please, Oliver is just fine, but I believe it has been a little over two weeks."

"That's plenty of time to remove the shrapnel, disinfect, stitch the wound, and transfer blood. Now if you would please—" She presses a hand to his chest while standing up. His eyes widen at the gesture before she roughly shoves him out the door. "Wait—" She slams the door in his face silencing his cries.

He doesn't know when to quit.

Quinn's eyes wander to a table that had a stack of neatly folded clothes on it. She sighs in relief once she realizes there wasn't a trace of blood on her clothes. She ditches the hospital gown and throws on the clean clothes. After she finished she was looked through the small window to see that Oliver was still sitting outside. "Can't do that." She sighs. Her eyes wander to the large window in the corner of the room. She approaches it, flipping the lock. She put her hands underneath it and pushes it up. The wind immediately collides with her skin making her scrunch her face up in discomfort. Moonlight spills into the room exposing every dark crevice.