Started this in May, had no idea what to do with it, so just wrote something little because I hate leaving these unfinished! Pointless, really, but I liked the idea of Rose just laying in bed that night and just wrestling with how she felt. May do one from Jack POV if anyone wishes just to make it feel a little more 'complete' :)
Restless.
Rose was startled by how her heart had pounded all night, without any instigation of a fright. The unsettled feeling stirring within her belly was causing it to turn over just like her first bout of seasickness which had come in waves that first evening aboard Mauretania. There was a thrum of giddiness within her though. The melancholy blues which had clouded her existence since their boarding the ship seemed to had shifted, or was at least temporarily put away into a pocket, ready to be opened once more perhaps once they would dock. Her heart seemed to skip a single beat and then hammer four or five times. Palpitations, they were called. The low hum of the ship was the only sound, then the ticking of the clock. For an unknown length, she had laid within her bed, simply watching the ceiling and listening to the way her heart went, and feeling how her stomach reacted. It had happened the first time upon seeing Jack Dawson dressed so beautifully in a full-length garment which only upper-class gentleman could wear and yet, he was tailored and cultured perfectly as though he was one of 'them.' How he had taken her gloved hand within his own, pressed his lips against her knuckles and intensely watched her with eyes so dazzlingly blue that one had to pull themselves from the depths of drowning because falling into them was never going to be an option. That first glance, rudely from far below decks had intrigued her. The first time their eyes had locked, on the others, as she had turned after making the decision to not jump from the rail, those few seconds, her entire universe had become filled just momentarily.
And then...then, he had taken her to dance. That was the moment her heart had beat for him. Fast. Unsteady. Pacing. Her breathing had started to waver, and within his arms she had found the freedom which she had so craved, for a length that was undetermined. It wasn't just the freedom, but the way of life entirely. It was completely wild, carefree and the more she had surrounded herself in that existence, the more in which she wished to throw her entire abysmal life here away and go with Jack. Run away with the circus. Take another name. Another life.
Laughing incredulously but quietly at her own idiotic notions, she realised that the cheap beer had a bigger impact on her than the expensive wine she had tasted at all the events, galas and soirees over the past many months. Now, after just two or three beers, she was drowning in giddiness. Feeling thoroughly alive just as a girl should. As she had watched herself in the mirror, she had found a vibrance. Her cheeks had colour. Her dress smelled of spilled beer, rolled cigarettes and him. Jack. The touch of his hands was still upon her own. The feel of the roughness against her smooth. The contrast of her hesitance to his confidence. Soon after his hands had gone to the small of her back, and taken her to fly through the crowds of hundreds, bashing about and dragging her as though they had no care, that was when she had felt her outer image shatter and she had become utterly, pivotally free of anxiety, responsibility or social status. Screaming aloud, as Jack had led her to simply dance amongst other people who were happy to be as merry as she had been in that moment.
Jack's hands had steadied her. Held her. Caught her as she had fallen to the floor, almost. His hand had fit into hers, without gloves, so perfectly that she pulled both of her hands to her chest and felt the weight of her heart as it sunk downwards into her stomach; almost still racing away. What was that feeling?
Once they had left the party and the giddiness had disintegrated into something a little more sobering, it had occurred to her just how much she hadn't wished to leave that world. Leave his side. Life beside him, even just those hours were filled with such joy and laughter that it was hard to walk away from. Hard to imagine life in such a dour environment such as her own.
So, walking away from Jack Dawson, as his eyes curiously searched her face for an answer to his question...what would you wish for? She had managed to answer the most honestly.
Something that I cannot have.
Lingering just that second, was long enough to know that something had changed. No, everything had changed,
Now, laid within the dark confines of her bedroom, Rose could only recall the second, that pivotal moment, in which her feelings towards a stranger had grown to become dangerous. She was attracted to him. Nervous about him. Lingering thoughts occurred well into the night before, and a strange riot inside of her had replaced the deep sadness which she had been plunged into for so long these many months. The thought of him pressing his lips to hers, just once had terrified her and caused the entire world to spin about like it never had.
In the adjoining bedroom, Cal would have been laid, perhaps even waiting for her to join him there. After he had presented her with a diamond last night, Rose knew that he would not be expecting her to go to him. Into his bed. The thought caused her skin to prickle and so, she simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to become surrounded by the thoughts of Jack Dawson and her riotous heart pounding away inside her chest as though it was longing to be free. Just as she was.
She didn't succumb to sleep easily that night, and knew for some reason, that deep in the bowels of the ship below decks, Jack would also be restless, too. Two pieces of something that would never truly fit together perfectly. There was something there between two hearts which could never entwine the way they perhaps wanted to. Never quite be free to eradicate barriers. So, she simply slept, restlessly.