⟨ status: complete ⟩
"They say artists are nothing but sad people, unaccepted by society of who they are. Masking themselves in 'personas' to fit in." She turned to him, placing her beloved paintbrush on the table with her face adorning a beautiful...
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"My, my, the Moon and Sky unite once again! How joyful!" The Sun sang, it's rays shone brighter as they watched from above.
"How wonderful!"
"A wonderful day, indeed!"
"Agreed, agreed!" The heavens chorused. They all rejoiced in mirthful laughter as they all celebrate for the union.
"Better than their last life, don't you agree?" They shivered, recalling the two lovers' previous life. They wish not to remember that ever again.
"Yes, it was tragic."
"Mhm, tragic."
"So tragic."
"So much blood, so much pain." The Sun sighed, their light dimming ever so slightly. Even them felt unsettled at the two's previous life.
Their love was much too great, much too strong.
The winds blew in anguish, they watched as the two looked at each other for the last time. They smiled at their lover so serenely as they accepted their fate, the other watched helplessly as they faced their lover in front of the guillotine.
Their clothes regal as ever, almost mocking the high status that they held within society, the complete opposite of their lover, who's ragged and plain. A commoner. A mere commoner who fell in love with an aristocrat, who was forced to wed another.
Christmas Day 1793
"Please, monsieur! I beg of you spare them!" They pleaded, they begged, and they cried. But they were but a mere commoner after all. They will not heed their call.
The clouds darkened, dulled, and saddened. Much like their heart, without their beloved, their sweet, sweet, love.
"If you can't, then please let me die alongside them!"
The man stared at them for a bit before turning to look at his accomplice, who merely shrugged —not really caring who lives or dies.
"Eh, Il n'y a pas de quoi fouetter in chat."
Their eyes widened at what they said, anger bubbling within them.
No big deal?
Hands clenched into a fist so tight that it's enough to draw blood. They were livid.
Hundreds —no, thousands of innocent people died, and to you it's no big deal?
The love of their life is going to get killed, their love, their beloved, so sweet, so innocent. They made them stand there —like a sacrificial lamb all for Paris to see.
"Let me die with them. This lonely commoner is asking for their last wish, and nothing more."
How they so want to hurt the men in front of them, but they knew it wouldn't do anything —help in anything. If nothing else, it might only worsen the situation. That, or they're a coward. A coward who'd rather die alongside their lover than to find a way to save them, a filthy, filthy coward.
It is the nature of human beings, to wish to change everything. Especially when one is filled with regrets, unsaid apologies in their deathbed.
They stood side by side, they mouthed a sorry to them and the other merely smiled. For they too, would rather die than to let death separate them from each other.
For the last time they held hands as death awaits in front of them, 'till death may do us part.
They had a dream, and that was all.
"No, one wish not to remember that any longer." The heavens cried, that memory was painful, heartbreaking.
"I agree."
"So do I, it's far too much."
"Too much indeed." The Sun agreed, shaking their head as they much wished to focus on the much, much better scene in front of them. It was much more wholesome that the heartbreaking life the two had previously.
May this life be filled with mirth and love. May life bless them with little to no strife.
For heavens would be angered as to see such tragic endings befall on their beloved children once again.
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