Fragile.
Fragile like the wings of a butterfly…
OOC: Takes place when she was in coma. This scene is one of her recurring dreams.
„I had a dream the other night,” Bill’s eyes did not leave the small moth fluttered around the lamp. “I was this moth in my dream and I’m a little confused now.” Exhausted, the moth dropped onto the table next to its watcher. Bill reached out and touched the small, fragile wings with one finger. “The moth I was,” Bill carried on his story. “a happy little creature danced carelessly in the sunlight and it had no idea of its real identity. Then I woke up… and now it’s difficult to decide… the truth… Who I really am: Bill, dreaming a moth - or - a moth, dreaming Bill?
“You do not mean it.” Kiddo chuckled. “You are Bill. My man. Of course you are!”
Bill smiled. “The moth in my dream was also convinced of its own existence.”
His smile did not fade and Kiddo shrugged her shoulders. Then she shivered but not with cold. A thought crept into her mind and made her brood: dreams and butterflies… What’s the truth?
Maybe Bill dreamt the moth; moth dreamt Bill… and she dreamt them both.
Muse: Beatrix Kiddo aka Black Mamba
Fandom: Kill Bill
Words: cc. 200
OOC: Takes place when she was in coma. This scene is one of her recurring dreams.
„I had a dream the other night,” Bill’s eyes did not leave the small moth fluttered around the lamp. “I was this moth in my dream and I’m a little confused now.” Exhausted, the moth dropped onto the table next to its watcher. Bill reached out and touched the small, fragile wings with one finger. “The moth I was,” Bill carried on his story. “a happy little creature danced carelessly in the sunlight and it had no idea of its real identity. Then I woke up… and now it’s difficult to decide… the truth… Who I really am: Bill, dreaming a moth - or - a moth, dreaming Bill?
“You do not mean it.” Kiddo chuckled. “You are Bill. My man. Of course you are!”
Bill smiled. “The moth in my dream was also convinced of its own existence.”
His smile did not fade and Kiddo shrugged her shoulders. Then she shivered but not with cold. A thought crept into her mind and made her brood: dreams and butterflies… What’s the truth?
Maybe Bill dreamt the moth; moth dreamt Bill… and she dreamt them both.
Muse: Beatrix Kiddo aka Black Mamba
Fandom: Kill Bill
Words: cc. 200