Mirrors (2P!Axis x Reader x 2P!FACE)

Conflict 16: Memory

It started exactly the next day after Oliver fed you that cupcake.

You sat at your desk, eyes flat and distant as they stare at the framed black and white photo of the streets of London with a double-decker bus and the Big Ben standing from the distance.

Shoulders squared and spine pressed against the cushioned backrest of her chair, you appeared to be spacing out.

'She squealed inwardly as she walked down the streets, thinking of how London was so beautiful. It looked just like the postcards.

...if only your right hand wasn't holding a pencil and writing without her conscious knowledge.

The buildings and houses lining the pavement were not tall and imposing as they were in the cities of New York and Tokyo. Like something out of a romantic's daydream. Gentle in the eye but leaving you with a strong, fleeting feeling of nostalgia and sentiment...'

On the floor were more pieces of paper filled from top to bottom, front and back with words in your handwriting.

"Hey, it's already time for dinner!" Jason yelled, snapping you out of your trance.

Your eyes searched for the wall clock, and you saw that it was already a quarter past six.

You've been there for over three hours and probably for more if you weren't forced to wake up.

"C-coming!" You yelled before tidying up the desk and running outside.

Jason kept going on and on about Slaughterhouse-Five, which you finished last night, but you weren't paying attention and next thing you knew, you were already in the dining room.

"Poppet, are you all right?" Oliver made you blink and you shook your head to face him.

"Huh?"

All four pairs of eyes were on you.

"You haven't touched your food." He glanced down on your plate of greens and roasted corn with a side of mashed potatoes which, on a regular night, would've been appealing to you. However, your stomach was in no digesting mood.

"Oh." Not wanting to be rude, you picked up a fork and stabbed the vegetables. You raised the food to your mouth but the fork fell.

"What the Hell were you doing in there?" Jason and James were already hunching over your shoulders to snatch your trembling right hand.

"Poppet, you've been acting peculiar lately"

"I'm fine, I was just... writing"

"Writing? As in pen-on-paper writing?"

Jason swore when James smacked him at the nape.

"What are you writing about?"

You shrugged, not making eye contact since your head was up in the clouds again "I don't know. Randomness?" You couldn't help it, one thing you knew you were dreaming all sorts of vague pictures—which was weird since you were being literal when you said you never dreamt since waking up at Luciano's—and then the next, your hand is moving on paper.

"Do you always write?"

"No more than any average Jane"

They all stared at you, looking sideways every to exchange glances.

Oliver clapped his hands together, "Right. Well, then... how about some dessert?"

"Speaking of, Oliver, did you take care of them?" Jason sat down next to you, James was already on your other side.