Okay, I'm drowning in feels. I needed to write this. Just a two-shot drabble on Disciple's feelings before and after his execution. Last chapter is kind of Sadstuck. Please r&r!
Disciple's P.O.V
He is her everything.
She has devoted her life to his teachings, his preachings, and him.
Everything is him.
He is everything.
Some say they love each other, but it goes well beyond that.
They learn from each other, calm each other down, they are everything all at once.
He is hers, they both know this. She would do anything to protect him, she would take her life to save his.
She is his, they both know this. Even her name comes from him. She is The Disciple, A Disciple. But who's Disciple is she?
His Disciple.
Of his teachings, of his word.
But thy are each other's Disciple, in more ways than but one.
She would exile herself, be driven into solitude, become nothing more than a figure in a tragic story, to preserve everything he has taught her.
She does not know.
She does not know that this is reality.
She does not know that this is true.
For now, they simply wait in their cave. Waiting for the revolution, a revolution that all come, and go.
A revolution that will die,
but will not be forgotten.
A revolution that will live,
for a thousand years more.
Yes, it's bad, I'm aware. I've never written drabble before, my first shot at it. here you go.
The next one may tug on your heartstrings a little bit.