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He had been her partner, a good man with good intentions only to serve his people and his God. He was a kind man, one whom may be consumed by his own pettiness or coldness, but one whom was never unjust in his path. He did as he was assigned, never letting his doubt or fear gain control of him, and yet he was still tied to his emotion, letting them be raw just as his anger. And while some may consider these traits that of a cold hearted, hostile person, she saw it as a beautiful mark upon his personality, one that shined above him and let him show just who he was to all around him.
Yes, she had loved him for all he was, for every flaw and every perfection, her heart only longed for him and to have him.
Yet, she felt her heart die out as the pieces crumbled into place as she was left to rot in the absence of his place, her heart filled with grief as the reality came shocked upon her of his actions to curse them all and harm the world; and it left her with a feeling she never felt before, one only pressumable as the feeling of a broken heart after a harsh goodbye, one that she would only realize now as her most precious memory and hated moment.
---
He had stopped her in the library. It was not odd, and so she sought no questions; They had met in the library many times before, both taking up reading as a hobby to cue the boredom they so had while life cooled down. It was a common interest between both, so it was only natural to talk - and as well, the guild’s library was splendid, fit with shelves stacked wall to wall with books upon thousands.
He had smiled warmly at her, calling her name and softly harmonizing the vowels to create a sing-song tone of voice she recognized from many past occurrences - However, he spoke with harsh growls not meant to do harm as he addresses, “Hello, Margret.”
“How do you do, Hawthorne?” She speaks politely, her smile shining as bright as his with soft intent, her voice smooth as she curtsies, watching as the man moves across the floor, dress shoes tapping against the cold marble of the guilds ship.
He smiles again, “Well - I am well. Thank you, my dear, for asking.”
“We have not met in many days; there is much to catch up on.”
“That there is,” He sits her down at a table near them, pulling the chair out before her and allowing her to sit, her poofy dress piling around her before he pushes the chair back in, “However, I may only talk for a small period of time, and there is much importance to tell of you - I wish not to speak of the unimportant, there is no time.”
“What brings you to such a frantic rush?” She says with mock curiosity.
“It is a matter of business - You have heard of the Moby Dick’s crash, yes?”
“That I have. It is sad, The Guild was a marvelous group; I am sad to see the disband. Why?” She studies his face, “You seem not to worry about money, we have enough to live off of, my love. Do not bother your mind with such silly frets - That is why I stay aboard this ship until the time passes where The Guild will no longer have a place to reside; I am bidding farewell. You came to do the same, yes?”
“No,” He contradicts her, “I simply came to speak of important matters with you. Michelle, I am afraid of what is to come with me, so I only wish to tell you of the most importance.”
“That is ridiculous talk-”
He interrupts her, “Margrette, you know nothing. I may tell you nothing. It will dawn upon you one day, but you may never speak of it. Believe me now and take my words. Will you do that for me?”
“I-” She starts slowly, “Yes, my dear, I will.”
“Say my name Margarette. Tell me you will listen, tell me you will never betray me or my words.”
The room falls to a shocked silence. She stutters, her mouth unable to form words upon his sudden importance, but she finally finds it in herself with now confidence to speak once more with sincerity and complete loyalty, “Hawthorne, you have my word - I will always stand by you, before anyone else, I will.”
“My dear, I wish not to break your heart,” He shakes his head, getting up from the table and placing his hands over the wood until he’s leaning towards you, “But I am afraid I am selfish. I must leave now, but always know I love you, Margaret Mitchell. I bid you farewell.”
He leaves in an instant, before even she can speak a goodbye.
---
She would later learn of the significance of their last meaning, and how she would cherish his words in her heart and regret with heartfelt rash her delicance to her words and the utter foolishness she held to completely drawtz around the subject without picking up on his words. And with that, she would hold heartbreak in her hands ad she realizes what he had truly meant.
He was never coming back. She would never look him in the eyes again, and their hands would never intertwine. Yes, that was the last time they were to ever meet, to speak and to feel, and to truly be with one another, just as they had; as lovers and as worshippers, that was their last meeting.
And oh, she mourned the loss she had forsaken, but in her heart she knew the truth, and that was one she never wished to perceive.
However, she had little time to grieve her lost lover, due to the impending coma she would soon fall into, their karma stacking upon both for their sins, and soon, they both would be sent to hell, where they could once again be together.