𝗠𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗕𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘀 | 2-D x Reader

eight

2-D shook his head as he was jolted awake from his sleep by a high pitched squealing. He rubbed his eyes as he arose from the pile of blankets covering his unclothed body. He let out a yawn while he stretched, part of him still emerging from his slumber. Scanning the room, he blinked a few times before realizing it was not his, nor a hotel's.

It was impeccably bare as opposed to the clutter he brought with him everywhere. The walls lacked any form of decoration other than an analog clock, which hung over a small desk pushed against the corner of the room. Glistening in the sunlight, an aluminium can filled with pencils rested on its surface. Beside it lay a tattered notebook, indiscernible scribbles graffiting the faded red cover. There was no closet, instead a massive bookcase occupying the wall where it would have been. It was stuffed full of textbooks, more worn out notebooks, and a variety of the works of authors 2-D had never heard of.

He furrowed his brows, confused, and turned to beside him. There lay the imprint of a woman's body, puzzling 2-D further. He turned to his other side, greeting his own groggy reflection in a small mirror atop a dresser. He tried fixing his bed head before surrendering to a sudden wave of nausea and a pounding headache. 2-D winced, concluding he must have been drinking the night before. The unfamiliar location must have been the setting of a one night stand. He rose from the bed and staggered to the door, trying not to throw up. He opened various other doors in the hallway in search of the bathroom.

"It's the one to your left," a voice emerged from the kitchen.

"Fanks," he called, not even bothering to catch a glimpse of the source of the advice before walking in. He glanced at himself in the mirror, noticing his bare shoulders. He looked down and realized he was completely naked. He yelped before scrambling back to the bedroom for his underwear. He pulled on his teal polka dotted boxers before returning to the bathroom, his nausea becoming unbearable.

2-D turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face and some in his mouth to rinse out the acidic taste of his vomit. He shivered as frigid air flew in from the open window. The blast of ice triggered another recollection for him. He had been greeted with gusts of frigid air the same way, although he was unsure of how and where. It was only the beginning of November; winter wasn't for nearly two months. He made his way to the kitchen, scratching his head in concentration as he tried to recall more of the events of last night. He realized he did not know where he even was. Dressing rooms all looked the same, regardless of the city they were in.

"Do you know what day it is?" 2-D asked as he wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his face.

"Sunday, I think."

"Sunday?" 2-D parroted, still bewildered. Didn't he have to catch a flight then? Why was he here? He took his hands off his eyes and revealed to himself his one night stand. Messy locks of hair hung around her delicate face and a pair of expressive doe eyes. They stared back at him in a way 2-D felt like he had seen before. She was quite small, even compared to 2-D, although it could have only been an illusion, for she was wearing his t-shirt, which seemed to eat her up due to its large size.

"I see you like my shirt," He warbled in an effort to make conversation. He saw her blush as she looked to her feet.

"Oh-I didn't realize this was yours," she stammered, "I-I just threw on the first thing I found on the floor. I'm sorry, I'll-"

"It's okay, love," he interjected, noticing her embarrassment, "don't worry 'bout it."

She looked at him, her face still a loud shade of pink. "Thanks," she started, her eyes veering off to the right, "So, umm, do you want anything to drink?"

"Peppermint tea would be nice, if you've got any."