"Black moths were dancing, because it was cold, because it was dark. Because they were hungry, for the butterfly."
Fem OC X Penny Adiyodi, Queliot
(To read the original, unedited version of this story, The Deceiver, see my profile)
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Through the eyes of a child, the world is simple. There is no suspicion of motives or fear of trust and love. A child, naive and untainted by the darkness of the universe, has a simple idea of truth. They see the world in absolutes, black and white, good and evil. Only through time do they learn to see the infinite scale of grey in life.
Lilly took her tea exceptionally sweet. Three sugar cubes, no milk, and served in the finest china she could find. Mr. Bear, however, liked no tea at all. Instead, he nursed a cup filled with golden honey. Mrs. Cottontail nibbled on a plate of carrot sandwiches. Lilly would have nothing but the best for her dearest and most steadfast friends. They were the only friends that stayed with her wherever her mother took them. London, Brussels, Paris, or New York.
Lilly wore her favorite periwinkle tea dress, her springy dark curls tied up with a pink satin ribbon. Her little fingers sported no gloves, as Mrs. Cottontail misplaced hers, and Lilly offered her own.
"Mr. Bear, would you like more honey?" Lilly asked, looking across the floral-clothed table at her guest. A steaming pot of peppermint tea, a pitcher of milk, a honey pot, and a bowl piled high with sugar cubes stood at the table's center. Mr. Bear did not respond, at least with his voice. Lilly looked into his yellow button eyes and knew that he did, indeed, want more honey.
"One can never have enough honey." He declared, and Lilly imagined that he winked at that. She reached over to the honey pot and scooped a full comb into Mr. Bear's cup. He smiled greedily but held back from gulping down the whole cup. Lilly sat back and lifted her delicate teacup to her lips. She sipped the sugary tea and wondered how anyone could suffer to drink it any other way. Her mother liked to say that she had the taste buds of a hummingbird.
The garden in which their party gathered was in full bloom at the very peak of its season. Roses of every color imaginable climbed a towering stone wall with voluptuous azalea bushes hugging its base. A cobblestone path led a winding trail to the back porch of her most recent home. Lilly loved Amsterdam. She decided this only a few hours into living there when she discovered the lavish and secluded back garden.
"The tea you requested, Madame." Evelyn Cole towered over their little table, flourishing a pink floral teapot. Steam swirled from the spout and into the air.
