Behind The Gun | H.S (ON HOLD)

7: Noise, Part 1

- Quinn

"The next episode?" Oliver asks, reaching out for the remote in front of us.

For the last two days, Oliver and I have done nothing but binge watch Grey's Anatomy; a show I've always had the intention of watching but I have never quite gotten around to doing. You would never believe it, as I've had so much free time on my hands recently, but I really haven't had the chance to.

Having only started on Tuesday, now Thursday, we are just over half way through season two which I think is very impressive. And a very clear representation of how little the pair of us have been doing since Tuesday.

"Of course! What else is there for us to do."  I laugh, reaching for the popcorn Oliver had greedily taken away from me so I couldn't take any.

"Hey!" He calls, trying to take it back from me. "I was eating that!" He moans.

We quickly settle down as the next episode starts; no longer caring about the popcorn but the drama unfolding in front of our eyes. It was easy to say, the pair of us were addicted. Some find their addiction in drugs or alcohol while we found ours in a medical drama TV show about the life of one Meredith Grey.

Although most of the time we have been silent with our eyes glued to the screen, Oliver and I have had time to talk. Not just general conversation regarding the show or how I am doing, but real conversations; deep ones about us as people. I have really gotten to know Oliver now and I must say Foster took a chance on the right guy. He's amazing and good looking; though I don't admire him in a romantic sense even less so after I found out he has a girlfriend. 'The love of his life' he says.

I sometimes see him texting her while we watch TV. She often sends him adorable photos of their dogs and every now and then she sends him a little heart emoji. It warms my heart seeing him light up when he gets a text from her. The way he talks about her is the way any girl would want their man to talk about them - I wonder if she knows how lucky she is?

For me, the only activity on my phone has come from Foster who called me last night. It was a brief conversation where he just wanted to know how I was, what I had been up to and if I had any plans. He continued to fire questions my way so much so I didn't have a chance to ask him how he was before someone in the background called him away. Whatever it was, was urgent as he quickly said goodbye before hanging up the phone on me.

He didn't even give me the chance to ask if I could stay longer in his room, which I had already been doing. I was allowed back in my room yesterday after the long list of things my father insisted on doing before I went back in. He added extra security features, checked everywhere for bugs or camera's as well as refilled my wardrobe. To be honest, I wasn't that bothered that my clothes had been taken; it was the fact that the one room in this house that was my sanctuary and safe haven had been violated. It doesn't feel like my own anymore and so I have taken refuge in Foster's room. At least till he comes back and I'm sure he'll talk some sense back into me, to get me back into my room.

"I don't like George." Ollie comments, snapping me back to reality.

"What! I love him." I argue. "I don't like Izzy."

"No!" Ollie almost shouts out. "I love Izzy!"

"Of course you do." I say rolling my eyes.

"What is that meant to mean!" Ollie asks offended. He takes the remote in hand, pausing it to face me directly ready for our new debate.

"Well you're a guy." I say implying he likes her because she is pretty.

"Ha! So you like George cause of his looks too then!" He argues.