Rose and Jack stopped talking altogether, after a short while.
It was too cold.
Too hopeless.
Too tragic.
They lay side by side, barely keeping out of the frigid North Atlantic as waves lapped up, temperature stabbing skin like knives. The strip of wood was scarcely keeping the two young souls afloat.
"Come Josephine… flying machine… up she goes… she goes"
The words, a fun party tune turned to the accompaniment of a passionate first kiss only just made it out of Rose's blue-frosted lips. The sky above was painted black, as dark as the scene around her – she daren't look.
It had gotten this quiet for a reason, after all.
Silver stars spotted the heavens- Rose tried to count them all to pass the time. She wished she'd learned about constellations. One, two, a billion. Out of her peripheral vision, one shot right across the skyline, and into the horizon.
"A soul going to heaven…"
Jack's words reverberated in her mind from only two nights ago. It seemed like a lifetime. She squeezed his hand even tighter.
His whole arm was strewn across her torso, holding her safe to him, trying to conserve warmth, conserve a will to live. The metal of his still-cuffed wrist bit into her flesh, but her comfort was the least of her concerns right now.
She'd never felt a love like this before. She hoped that's what it was. An all-consuming force that seemed to scatter sense and reason, right and wrong, expectation and practicality, right into the wind. To have it granted for less than two measly days, only to have it taken away so carelessly!
The phrase that'd come to mean so much to them over the past few days became a mantra, the only thing besides the man laying next to her keeping her fighting. God knows she had nothing else left. Certainly not her mother. Certainly not the sickening, pompous aristocracy of first-class. Not that she cared. Jack had set her free.
"I'll never let go… I'll never let go… I'll never let go… I'll never let…"
….
"Is there anyone alive out there?"
Rose was jostled out of her brief slumber to the desperate call of one of the Titanic's remaining Officers. Jack had told her not to close her eyes, but she was just so tired… so tired.
"Jack?" She whispered, if you could even call her strained speech as much as that. "Jack?"
Rose tugged on the arm draped around her body gently, and then after a few moments, a little more forcefully as panic began to seize her head and heart.
"Jack!" "There's a boat, Jack!"
Her breath hitched in her throat. Oh God. Why was he not responding? No. No. No.
Please.
No.
"Jack!"
Rose knew that both of them would have to remove themselves from this godforsaken hunk of wood eventually – and she had to see his face again. Even if the worst had happened. They'd lay wrapped around one another for hours, not having the strength to turn around and look at each other, even if only to console themselves with tender gazes alone.
"Rose?"
The voice that had begun to make her heart flutter ever since she'd first heard it's first plea, "don't do it!" called out to her.
She let out a fervent breath of relief.
He was alive!
"There's a boat!" "There's a boat!" She repeated ardently.
"Okay" Jack whispered back, squeezing her hand warmly despite its icy grip.
"We're gonna have to swim for it, okay? One last push now, Rose. It's almost over. C'mon!"
He squeezed her hand one last time, before his body lost contact with hers completely, and a loud splash could be heard erupting from behind her.
She panicked for a split second.
He was there to help her though, just as he had always been.
"C'mon, Rose, I'll help you!"
She tried to nod her head, but her bones felt frozen-in-motion.
"I won't go without you".
Jack's encouragements finally equipped her with enough mental strength to pry herself away from the wood. A pain-stricken moan escaped her body as it fully connected with the water once more.
She felt Jack's hands latch itself to hers beneath the waters' surface, and they began to motion forwards.
"Oh, God", Rose whispered in both horror and sorrow, as Jack forced a whistle out of the lily-white lips of what used to be an officer of the White Star Line.
A deep intake of breath, and then…
….
….
….
"Come ABOUT!"
The lifeboat had finally, FINALLY, reached them. A forlorn, worn and weary looking officer stepped into action immediately.
Jack motioned for Rose to be helped aboard first, to which she gratefully accepted.
Once they had been hauled in, they were draped in layer upon layer of blankets, ears deaf to the words from the officer;
"So sorry… are you okay? I'm so, so sorry. Get warm now".
Empty words, now, really.
No apology could fix this tragedy.
They lay side by side once more, flirtatious repartee that had trademarked their relationship replaced with nothing but bitter silence, filled with anguish, shock, remorse.
As the sun crested over the horizon, turning the sky a hazy pink, Rose thought about how lucky she was to see the sun rise again. God knows they'd been the lucky ones.
Her eyes fluttered faster… faster, and slower then. Stopping completely. She was left to dream about herself and Jack, what was left to come. A future. A happy once too, she hoped. Leave the tragedy to reality.
This was a night to be remembered, indeed.