WARNINGS: Do not archive without my knowledge. Written by a non-native English speaker. Not proof-read. Pardon me.

Time frame, POVs and worlds are all but relative in this story.


Worlds away with memories
Of killing time and dreams
Think of me, it was so cold we burned
And as they leave, they cross my mind

No time, I think it's over
This life inside I steal as mine
Look in your eyes, you're worlds away
And life is locked inside you

Then, you sleep and city walls
They dissolve to dreams
Children cry, they're losing everything

From heart to heart
The beat slowly fades
The sun explodes the night time
For all we know
There's nothing changed

Look in your eyes you're worlds away
Where art is love is science
A million miles, a thousand minds
Now worlds away

Oh no, don't say goodbye
When you can love only one thing
And they want you to know
It's you, it's you
Worlds away
Don't say goodbye

strange advance, "worlds away"

world history.

which world?

did it matter, at all? which one? this or that? over Here or over There? what it was it? which one of them was real? who said it could only be one? it was all but a matter of perception - Here and There. it was all a matter of perception.


what were they fighting for? knowledge? revenge? survivol? was any of it worth six billion lives? what about a dozen billion lives? or was this a relativity issue as well?

the questions swirled around her head like little mad butterflies, wandering aimlessly through the dark garden that was her mind.

things weren't so clear anymore.

goddamn it, things weren't so clear for a long time now, and she was very aware that during this time she had been fooling herself.

denial. that was a great word.

she had been inactive. unresponsive to the changes around her, working on autopilot. too much had changed around her. too much had changed inside her: even her reflection, looking back at her, didn't seem right. she could've been fooled by the mirrored image. she could have believed that she wasn't standing in front of a mirror at all, but in front of the other her.

the Other Olivia.

from the Other Side.

the one that Peter loved. the one that Peter wanted.

it wasn't her. it had never been her.

maybe, for a while, she believed they were meant to be together, but that thought vanished short after looking into Peter's eyes and seeing his confusion and embarrasement and hurt.

it hurt her too. it hurt her more than it hurt him, because she was the one to blame for his it didn't matter, for the worlds were falling apart, and as much as it felt comfortable being around Peter, hugging him, snuggling to him, kissing him... it wasn't her.

it wasn't her skin he wanted.

it wasn't the smell of her hair, or the sparkle on her eyes, or the sweetnothings that she whispered, or her sex, or her love.

it was her. the Other Olivia.

the really funny and sad part was that she knew they were the same - he could have loved this Olivia. the Olivias - they probably shared the same secrets, the same history (with slight changes), the same tastes, the same family and the same job. The sun that bathed their faces was the same, even worlds apart, and the cities and the people and the books.

in their skins, invisible tattoos of history.

even Peter was meant to be tattooed in both of them - the difference being she wasn't the Olivia that would get to be with him...



"Are you OK?"

"Of course, I was just thinking..."

"I see... Do you need-"

"I'm fine. Let's get to work."