My One and Only PV Rosalind K. Closed

Dated: The last day of school after all the kids have left

Hexcode= #946F6F

Letting a wrong go uncorrected would never sit well with Atticus. Throughout his life justice had often been a force which spurred him to motion. Not only was justice the reason he'd decided to stop by a flower shop on his way to work today, it was his purpose. Armed with a bouquet of purple Hyacinths in one hand, a sacrifice of sorts, he held his hat solemnly in the other. As Wade made his way to the North Tower where she worked anticipation for how she would react would cause his heart to skip like a schoolboy's. He'd be a damned fool and a shameful liar if he even once denied having tried to lived his life to its fullest without her, but he'd be committing an even greater crime if he dismissed the feeling that something had been missing from his life. It was her. There were midsummer nights that had slipped through his fingers like sand. Fever dreams of days and nights reduced to ash running while on the lam. More than a decade of long, cold, and dark winters spent regretfully indisposed by his long list of duties. Even moments of despair, moments he'd struggled through on all on his lonesome.

All of this just to say his troubles paled in comparison to the pain he'd inflicted on the one he had made a promise to love forever.

To Atticus Wade, there would be no doubt left that she might have been better off without his invasive feelings. Feelings that burned like an ardent flame. Feelings which rebuffed all efforts to be stamped out even this late into his fifties. Still, more stubborn than he was proud, Atticus had never been one to listen to reason when his heart sang to the truer to tune. Love. It had been a long road his life. One that he'd been determined to walk all alone out of the prospect of losing her. It wasn't until recently he had finally come to terms with being in the wrong that ungrateful day that he left her standing there. There was no longer any room for worry of death in his heart when love had somehow kept him alive all these lonely years. She deserved to know he was alive. He owed her that much. Determined that it was time for a reckoning, and as spirited as he was, there was still one woman he reckoned could match his youthful spirit. Rosalind Kibitzer was her name, and she was the most radiant woman to ever put her heart in his hands. She was the only woman to ever put her heart in his hands. She deserved far better but by now was likely used to disappointment.

When he had first arrived to Hogwarts he had been transferred at the discretion of MACUSA's hierarchy. Likely with the acknowledgement that he'd not be answering many questions about the past. Still, the new Transfiguration professor had many questions himself. The first was if she still worked here. Some would have found it odd. Odd that a man unattached to the rest of the world would keep tabs on someone he'd done egregious wrongdoing to, but then there was a longing for the ability to cross the great divide between them. Desire to fill in all of the gaps they wouldn't know after all this time. His heart had always burned for her, and for her alone his heart would gladly be damned to hell. Whatever she demanded of him, for reconciliation and forgiveness were more than justice. They were his last chances at redemption. They say true love doesn't exist, but most muggles were easily fooled by what they couldn't understand. Determined again to correct the mistakes of his past or dig his own grave trying, Atticus fearlessly marched his way up the steps to her classroom.

There were of course many reasons to consider why one should never dig up the past. Pain and suffering were dangerous to those with a fragile disposition, but the Rosalind he knew was not one to wilt in the heat or break down when the going got tough. Their young hearts had once become entangled during a summer fling many many, many many years ago. A marriage proposal that she'd accepted, despite her father's wishes, and a wedding had been planned. Both were dashed upon the rocks when Atticus answered the call to serve his country. The life he'd sacrificed everything for and the woman he loved were sickeningly pitted against one another. In the end, he'd made the wrong choice. No longer regretful, he held onto the hope he could reignite their love. As he raised his hand to knock on the door....

Mentions: @Rosalind Kibitzer