Naïve.
The word her Mother had used to describe Rose all of her life.
She was childlike and silly yet her Mother had trained her to be a lady from such a tender age. Her body was that of a woman's. The wide hips which her Mother would curse as she forced her into a corset. Her full breasts which would spill over the tops of dresses and the curve of her behind which never quite fit the rest of her body.
Her Mother accused her of being a child and yet her fiancé had numerous failed attempts at luring her into his bed. Whichever path Rose took, she could never win and she knew that she never would.
Her anger and frustration had driven her to the stern of the ship, ready to end her short and meaningless life. She had never been perfect, she could never be the beautiful trophy society wife and despite trying to 'behave' for so long, she had always failed in her efforts. Just what was expected of her?
Then, his voice had shaken her entire world. ''Don't do it.''
His eyes had filled her world. Jack Dawson.
They had shared their hopes and dreams. They had danced, sung and laughed until their cheeks and stomachs pulled with pain.
She had feelings only women had. He had held her so closely, his hand falling loosely to her waist and he had held her hand and stroked her face so tenderly.
Cal could run his hands to her waist and pull her body to his, on many occasions she had felt his erection against her but she had walked away leaving a trail of frustration behind her. She wasn't ready to be naked; for a man almost twice her age to see her body.
She was insecure. The list of imperfections which her Mother would scrutinise was endless; she would burn in the sun, the freckles on her arms, a scar on her left knee, stretchmarks on her waist from rapid growth at such a young age and the breasts which she never felt fully fitted her body.
But Jack had kissed her, stirring a desire which she had never felt or known about. The urge to be fully exposed to him was exhilarating. She wanted to shed her identity, for she was no longer a child but a young woman.
She reached up to remove the butterfly comb to allow her curls to fall freely down her back. She stroked the comb with her fingers in the dim light before catching sight of herself in the mirror.
She was naked.
She traced her index finger from her shoulder to her waist and her skin was soft to touch. She touched a small stretchmark on her waist and traced her eyes to the curve of her hip then upwards to her breasts and her face. This was how he was going to see her. Nerves fluttered, not from his reaction but from standing naked before a man who had made her feel like a woman. There was a longing there, a need and a struggle to contain it but she didn't know exactly what it was.
She wasn't the first girl he had seen naked and her body wasn't the first he'd touch but she knew he felt the longing too. Was he nervous? She sensed so. His reaction to her request was one which had caused an intense stare between them both and then, he had leant forward to kiss her so tenderly as he closed his eyes, he had fought with something inside of himself and she would like to know what that was.
She was timid, almost frigid as Cal would call her. He made her oversensitive and defensive, a man she should give herself to fully and at this very moment she knew that she never would.
She glanced over her figure again. She had insecurities and imperfections but Jack would see through to her very core. She was opening up to him and stripping back every layer she had ever built up.
Shakily she reached out for her kimono and draped it over her body. It did nothing to cover her. She saw her hand shook as she reached for the door handle and it clicked open.
Jack was sat on a chair waiting. No words were needed as she tiptoed closer to him. Their eyes met but the exchange spoke volumes, he was nervous. She watched his breathing stop for a split second as she parted her robe and it fell to the floor with a whisper. She was defenceless, she had no armour and her shell had been shred.
She was naked.
She felt his eyes run over her body, his hand was twitching and the burning started right there in her stomach.
''I am opening up to you. Standing before you with my heart in my hands.''
He struggled with something and she didn't know what it was. He took a slow and shallow breath.
''You are so beautiful.'' He whispered, breathlessly.
She ran her hand self-consciously across her stomach.
''You've freed me.''
She had never felt so exposed in her life. Nerves mixed with adrenaline buzzed through her veins. She knew there was no going back.
''You freed yourself. You're a strong woman.'' He paused as his eyes ran down her body. She shivered helplessly. She felt fully vulnerable and yet he accepted her fully flawed and all.
''Lie down, Rose.'' His voice was coarse. She parted her dry lips and gasped for air as though she had been underwater for a long time. She knew he was lost in this world between the both of them as much as she was herself.
''Over on the bed…the couch.''
She found the strength to move. She knew that, he too, was nervous.