Chapter twenty-nine:

I love you. You are my clarity. I will never let you go.

Those were the words Jack had whispered into Rose's ear as she had wrung him through. Given him the most shattering orgasm to be experienced. Tenderly kissed his face and his neck as he had jolted in pain afterwards. Then, after cleaning him thoroughly, she had helped him back to bed before changing his bandages. Jack wasn't ashamed to have spoken such intimate words in the heights of pleasure because no matter how dizzying it was, the words were true. All stress seemed to have left his body after that and Jack had fell into a dreamless sleep. The rocking of the ship then seemed to lull him towards a place of rest where he would awaken a different man rather than cause him to endlessly vomit as it had done for days,

There was something beautifully intimate in tending to Jack now in the way that he allowed Rose to. It was as though now, something had transpired between the two of them and the last barriers of his vulnerability were laid out before her and as Rose stepped across them, she had embraced them. Who knew what existed beneath the barriers of a man? Men were painted, no, expected to be creatures of such towering strength. As provider and torch bearer for the family, a head of the household and a formidable character. A person to be well structured in body and mind and leaving no room for anything such as naivety, vulnerability or tenderness because that would be viewed as the ultimate sign of weakness. Whether it was his background as the only son of two farmers who fell in love, then suddenly thrust into the world of society without an ounce of preparation, one assumed Jack would have to have grown a hardened shell for when the vultures came to peck at him. And they had. And would continue to do, so. Or perhaps it was just the fact that he had been alone for so long and reliance upon one's self was all he had. He was never a man who wished to settle or to even consider a wife and now, Rose sat beside Jack and stroked feather light circles across his forehead as she would do to a child. When asleep, he appeared to be not much older than a child. His adolescent years were barely behind him and yet he had lived enough lives in many ways than most triple his age. It bought out a maternal pull inside which she hadn't known to exist; although it could be years before she was a mother, that was where the tenderness had began, she would recall in many years time.

Now, as she was needed for once. Rose was the one who had become a provider, a carer and accepted for it. She was the one who had taken decisions, tended wounds and become a source of strength for a man who once had seemed to be stronger than the whole world, but just for a mere time, she would become his saviour, for there was something addictive about selflessly giving help to another and expecting nothing in return. There was something wonderful about seeing how his strength returned, how his eyes flickered and warmed with gratitude. Then, there was his words of love.

Rose didn't wish to fawn over him but somewhere beneath the exteriors of a man who had borne such weight upon his shoulders, there was also a man who was more than vulnerable. Lonely even, she would suspect. Stroking her fingers across the soft layers of his clean hair, the scent washed across her as she examined the smaller pieces of his face which she had failed to notice until now. The small scars across his forehead, perhaps he had pox as a child, the long eyelashes and tanned skin, how the darker hairs of the growth of his beard were evident and lighter at the ends. How handsome he was with the hair across his face. How beautifully peaceful he appeared to be laid there within layers of blankets and with her feather light touch, he seemed to be deeply engrossed within the depths of his slumber to the point where he didn't move for hours.

Leaving him to lay there alone was hard, but Rose found herself upon the small open deck of the Californian, wishing for the night air to give her some peace. It felt as though her lungs had tightened within the quarters of the rooms. In the corridors, passengers of the Titanic lay with the floor as their bed awaiting answers of the fate. Rooms were occupied almost double; women cradled their children in hallways and the decks had been almost empty since just after their arrival onboard. The Californian had been carrying no passengers to Boston on its original journey from Liverpool, and the ships officer's generosity had touched all aboard. Beds had been made up on the tables in dining rooms, the smoking room was full of laid down blankets and people found a desire to eat. There was enough food for everyone aboard, and hot drinks were served regular enough to keep the chills at bay. At least, that's what was hoped. The absolute tragedy, though, lingered in every corridor and in every room aboard. Any remnants of joy had been wiped away once the number of people were counted. The sight of incomplete families was enough to make even the strong stomached feel ill. The Carpathia had effortlessly managed to pick up the remaining passengers but would be heading to New York so any separated families would have to wait to be reunited without belongings and without aid and without the answers they would require for quite some time.

That afternoon was clouded by fog. Passengers mainly remained indoors. By this time the true tragedy was dawning on survivors. It had been believed amongst passengers that they would be back aboard Titanic by morning and all of this would just be a terrible dream. Perhaps...

For Rose though, this was different. Freedom. This was her freedom.

Her shaking legs seemed to regain some feeling and she started to walk, one foot before the other. The destination was unknown. The future was unwritten. She found an exit onto the main deck and felt the wind outside. The rain still drizzled as darkness fell over the sky. She pulled her coat further across her body, as the wind blew harshly in her face; cold and damp. She stopped at the rail for just a moment feeling the motion of the ship and in the distance, she could see what appeared to be land. Was it Boston or was it not even part of her home country? The lights...it was a place when she first started this trip that she was dreading the site of and now as she faced her home, she couldn't help but wish she was already there with her feet upon solid ground. Jack's recovery would be just one hurdle to overcome once they would arrive in Boston and then, she would be a woman in a completely unknown city and without a penny to her name. Part of her was completely in awe of her own journey, if one could call it bravery and the other realised just how completely stupid, she had been.

Just over a week ago Rose had boarded the Titanic as the fiancé of a millionaire's son. Her life had been lavish, money was the centre of everything and she had sacrificed her own happiness for that of her mothers, to ensure the family name was respectable. A week later she couldn't comprehend the events; she was leaving her former life to become the wife of another man, a man she had known barely a week. Caledon Hockley would no longer be the cause of such misery in her life.

As she grasped the rail, her watery eyes watched the lights in the distance; they appeared to be still. Perhaps it was land or just another ship...but she knew then that whatever was in front of her; she would survive it. Behind her, she would shed her former self and leave it with the grave of the Titanic and take with her just the lessons learned and the memory of what it felt like to be suffocated, abused and controlled.

Even now, alone, just taking a sigh of relief felt unweighted and standing in the harsh ice wind felt beautifully freeing. As free as how she felt within Jack's arms, how they circled her waist and how his kiss made her every sense soar, miles above the ocean as though she was a bird taking a great flight above the waves. How was it that only he made her feel that way? The notion was new to her; yes, it felt the way a fairy tale romance should and even though her innocence in the ways of the world shone through, Jack was honest, reliable and trustworthy. He was handsome, caring and...loving.

Her teeth chattered as another icy wind hit her. It caused her senses to dash about and whirled her hair about her face, sending it whipping around as it came. Once it died down, it seemed to have stripped away some of the last remainders of her old self. The stress which she had carried within her chest for as long as she could remember had gone away, leaving a clear and untarnished path for her to follow into whatever life on land would hold for her. Jack would take her onto a life without consequences whilst marrying her for both of their conveniences. His presence had awakened something within her. Something which she knew was the beckoning of womanhood which she had yet to experience. Dry land would open doors for the pair of them; good or bad? One was yet to find out, but there was a longing to step into her destiny. Freely. With him.

It was hard to sleep when there was some sort of hypnotic spell taking over her entire body. The rocking of the ship no longer felt a lull but more of a pull. A pull towards the land. A pull to the land of the unknown in a city which she didn't know a thing of.

Bright eyes had awoken her, when she had finally fallen into something of a slumber. They were a solstice in the bright lights of the morning hidden behind a darkened curtain. Feeling Jack's lips on her cold neck, she gasping, her hands flying to his forearms to clasp onto him and it caused him to shiver and then stiffen all over. That she could feel.

''You were talking in your sleep.'' Jack whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her there and she felt the goose bumps appear all over her body without even needing to see the raised flesh to know its appearance.

''I'm sorry if I woke you.''

''I feel as though I have had enough sleep. Rested in the damned bed for too long.''

Rose moved to raise herself but his eyes seemed to pin her to the spot. To the cot. To the pillow. Slowly, she laid her head back down, as though the beacons of light breaking through the curtain ricocheted off his eyes and made his blue eyes appear almost purple as he brushed her hair back and pressed his lips to her cheek.

''You know that you have to rest,'' she whispered, regaining her tongue after feeling affected somehow as though she would stammer through more words.

''I have rested.'' Jack's eyes flashed over her. Her heart threshed like the wings of a small bird beneath her white linen nightdress and it was only then that she realised he wasn't wearing any clothes, and that she was the one who had put him into bed completely naked after his bath. One of his hands coasted lightly over her arms and her front as if he were searching for something.

''Not enough,'' she gasped between fragmented breathes, arching into him and then away but their torsos were pressed together with only the thin blanket of the counterpane separating them.

Rose felt herself flush as she stared into the most remarkable eyes; the cool blue with lighter rims. His gaze seemed to take her in, consuming every details. She noticed the faint shadows beneath his eyes which were new. The bristle of the hair growth across his chin, cheeks and upper lip from been unable to shave over the duration of the past four days. Truth was, it did nothing to impair his good looks, perhaps she even found them to be a welcome addition; his face was so young, so boyish and now, it was as though she was staring into the eyes of a man.

''You were saying something about clarity.''

''Cl-clarity?'' Her stammer returned, both tired and wide awake.

''Yes, about how you had gained clarity, changed something and the rest was quiet, jumbled in parts.''

Rose shrank back reflexively. They both went still it seemed that questions which filled the air between them as if they had been written in invisible ink.

''I truly cannot say, perhaps a strange dream and I was speaking aloud what was in my subconscious.''

''Was it about me?''

Rose gave a bewildered nod. Jack looked away for a moment but when he glanced back at her, his eyes were bright with amusement.

''My dreams were of you, too. That is why I came here to check that you were safe.'' He smiled, caressing the ends of her hair as it fell about her shoulders upon the pillow. ''That's when I heard you talking in your sleep.''

And before she could think, or move, or breathe, he bent his head and took her mouth with his. Stunned, Rose went motionless beneath the soft, burning kiss, so subtle in its demand that she wasn't aware of the moment her own lips parted. His hands came to her jaw, cradling, angling her face upward. One arm slid around her, bringing her body fully against his, and the feel of him was hard and richly stimulating. With every breath, she drew in an enticing scent, an incense amber and musk, starched linen and male skin. She should have struggled in his arms . . . but his mouth was so tenderly persuasive, erotic, imparting messages of peril and promise. His lips slid to her throat, and he hunted for her pulse, working his way downward, layering sensations like silken gauze until she shivered and arched away from him.

"No," she said weakly. ''Not unless you're going to make love to me.'

Jack gripped her chin carefully, forcing her to look at him. They both went still. As Rose met his searching gaze, she saw a flash of baffled animosity.

''And we both know that you're too weak to be out of your own bed.'' Rose heard her own voice correct itself. ''Please, go back to bed, keep warm and clothed.''

Exhaling lightly, Jack moved back, exposing his wounded shoulder and the bandage which covered it. Moving further back, he went to his knees upon the floor and suddenly the world was cold when he wasn't right beside her.

''It isn't my wound which would prevent me from making love to you.''

''What would?''

''We are not married, yet.''

''I consented to be your wife in all matters,'' Rose came to rise from the bed, pulling the blankets from her legs as she went and it was then, as Jack recoiled, she saw the tall, dark and lean form which was towering above her without any clothes and completely bare for her to see in its entirety for the first time in a situation where she wasn't his aid. A watery line came to her eyes as frustration, bitter tiredness and tenderness all flooded her at once. Whilst she wished to bite, and sting him with her tongue, she was simply too exhausted but that didn't stop her entire body from growing limp as two arms came to her, embracing her and calming the sudden burst of emotion which escaped her eyes in liquid form. Hot, trickling and then she was gasping to breathe into his shoulder, pressing her nose against the crook of his neck and finding that was the place which had felt the safest when cradling against him. His scent. His skin. His everything.

''And you will be.'' Jack whispered in a hush soft tone.

''But-''

''No, nothing negative.''

''Look at me, I can barely conduct myself in an orderly manner due to lack of sleep and now, even standing feels strange.''

''We have done the unthinkable. The unimaginable, Rose.''

''What is that?''

''We have survived the sinking of the Titanic. We have found each other, across all these social boundaries. We have torn them all down by just becoming engaged and now, whilst it would solve a million of our problems becoming husband and wife,'' he used his thumb to sweep it across her lower lash line, and she suppressed a simple sob, ''now that we have started this dangerous game, I have come to know that you will mean a lot more to me than I could I ever have known that you would.''

''It seems like such a great riddle.''

''No, it is simple once you take the time to know. Every time I look at you; that face, those eyes, the sinful pleasures that we have taken from each other. You make me shiver inside. By becoming the wife that I thought would be a convenience, you will become the best thing to have ever happened to me. That ship, this whole disaster, will never be eliminated from our minds but I will be thankful for that. It brought me to you.''

Rose started to shudder inside. Her heart pumping as though it was about to burst and perhaps it was. His face, now shadowed, appeared young and the innocence threaded across his eyes, his forehead as a tiny pucker developed there as he gauged her reaction to his words. ''Jack-'' she started but failed to think of a response. There was none. She could have sobbed her entire heart out to him right there; tears of happiness. Of the unknown. Of her own fear which would no doubt be mixed with his own. Still, he was an unknown entity, yet his weight upon the edge of her bed was wonderful.

''A dream will fly. But only as soon as you open your eyes. A dream is just a riddle. Ghost from every corner of your mind.''

''You were the dream. Of what you said to me. That-that I was your clarity, that you wished to never let me go.''

''And, that I love you.'' He corrected the part which she had failed to mention.

The flickering of wings broke out within her stomach, and she nodded, slowly. ''That you love me. And, that I love you.''

Jack parted his lips, and in the fragments of Rose's mind, she knew that no one, aside from perhaps his parents, had never told him that. He had never been loved, not truly. And he was. And to think of it, neither had she.

A first love. Although there were barriers, they would be ripped down. Rose was sure of it. There would be nothing that could keep them apart.

I am doing a double post because I want to try to get to the end of this now (selfishly) I am so done with obsessing over how perfect the ending needs to be and whilst its still so imperfect, I am trying to just go with it! i have started another one, after a huge delay of not been able to write anything new and even though I like Runaway, it feels as though it will be left for a little while whilst I obsess over my newer one!

So, double chapter and thanks for the reviews about the last chapter, I had forgotten how much M rated stuff was actually in this story now! I thought it was tame!