The young man, weary of being burnt by the red head's fiery mood, watched the way her lashed fluttered as they gazed down at the drawing he made of her. She frowned and observed the etchings deeply,...in proper company she might have realized that she, herself was being extremely rude when only moments ago she had been berating him for the exact same crime. He on the other hand, wondered what she was going through and was eager to know her reaction. He couldn't help it, he supposed; she was remarkably beautiful and he was as equally intrigued by her. He noticed from the corner of his eye, ladies staring at the obviously mis-matched pair they made and whispered curiously. He looked away from the girl and took a cigarette from his pocket, slipping it between his lips before lighting it carefully with a match; he figured that it would distract himself and make him look less like the idiot he was, practically gawking at her in a public park. Rose collected herself and swallowed the frog that stubbornly sat squatting in her throat, away.

She was irked.

Rather than the mediocre pervert she had passed him off as, he seemed much more...unsettling than that, now.

'Tell me honestly,' She said frowning at his chest, still refusing to look directly at him,'are you some kind of stalker, or something?'

He snorted disbelievingly with raised eyebrows, and leaned forward a little as boyish dimples appeared in his face. He struggled to hide how laughable the question was. 'No, ma'am. I swear, I've never seen you before today.'

'Then, how do you explain this! you couldn't have possibly drawn this from today!' she accused, holding the picture up to his face. She was infuriated by the sound of him chuckling.

'Actually, I'm an artist...you could say I'm good at it.' He folded his arms and leaned back on the brick wall he had rested against for the past couple of hours.

Rose sighed at the hinderance she stumbled upon during her little excursion and massaged her left temple with closed eyes. 'A little peace. That was all I wanted! I just wanted to take a walk and clear my head. Now, I'm standing here with you - and I want to scream bloody murder!'

'maybe you should, if it'll help.' He replied simply. It was Rose's turn to chuckle dryly,

'Don't be ridiculous!'

'No offense Miss, but I'm not the one yelling at a complete stranger, here.' He stated, a tad self-righteously in Rose's opinion, but she also noted, grudgingly so, that he was right. She brushed a few auburn strands behind her ear and looked slightly bashful. 'I'm Jack, by the way. Jack Dawson.' He offered, holding out his hand. Rose finally met his eyes this time, and was taken aback by two glowing orbs of bright sky peering down at her.

'Rose...Rose Bukater.' she dimly shook his hand, wondering what game she was clearly a pawn in.

As she remembered the dream she felt a fluttering in her chest as she studied Jack's chiseled features. Was this some kind of sign? Was it a prophecy? she wondered. Since she had first spoken to this man, Jack, her heart felt less like a burning building and more like a comfortable camp fire on the west indian plains. She's never been out of a city before, thus never seen the likes of a real campfire, but in her mind she can see it warmly beckoning her with its whispering flames.

'Rose suits you.' He said, taking in her deep pink lips and the blazing shine of her luxurious red hair as he stared back into the dark pools of a watery abyss, framed by the wisping curl of her lashes.

'Thank you,' She politely replied, feeling totally embarrassed about how rude she was before. Rose knew she could have left at any moment, but she didn't have even the slightest inclination. Something inside her said that she should trust it. Trust him, even. She was losing a bloody battle with her life, and sinking fast...but she felt normal around him: like everything else was just a bad nightmare. '...Can I ask you a question, Jack?'

'Sure.'

'Why did you draw me like this ?' She asked, wanting to know since he had showed it to her but had previously been too upset to ask.

Jack pondered over his answer and shrugged slightly '...I thought you were interesting...what really got me, was how fragile you looked. It made me wonder, what was so wrong in this girl's life to make her look that way?...' Rose watched his eyes as he spoke and knew it wasn't a lie. 'But I just couldn't draw that. It felt wrong - so, I just did what felt...right to me.' He ended, slightly questioning his reasons himself, thinking even to his own ears, that answer sounded stupid. He took a last drag of his dwindling cigarette and threw it on the ground, trying to warm his hands by shoving them in his threadbare pockets. Rose nodded dumbly, trying not to think about his answer too deeply by chancing another look at the previously offending article of Jack's possessions. Rose was gazing back at herself from the thin sheet and it was such an incredible likeness to her, that she may as well have been looking in the mirror. But what struck her most, was not the divine talent of the hand that sketched it, but the way her eyes seemed to twinkle up at you, and the smile she graced; like she was the happiest eighteen year old girl in the world. A Rose that still had a doting father to go home to; a mother who stroked her hair at night; A home where she could sleep peacefully and feel safe in...

a Rose who still dreamt of all the things life had to offer a well-to-do girl, such as herself.

'...I see.' Lamenting the hope this picture attempted to inspire in her, she handed it back to him - overwhelmed by how much she prayed that her life was like that and that it was her, all the while damned to knowing that her life was never going to be like that again. Besides, she was more or less the property of the Hartley family, now.

Less than even a maid servant: a slave. bought for money.

She was starting to break, again. Her blood faintly pounding in her ears had her glancing nervously out at the lake, trying to hide her turmoil from the innocent, Jack. 'Walk with me, Jack...keep me company for a while; after all, I feel like I owe you an apology for my behaviour...' she said trying to carry the conversation, already moving slowly on the path.

'Well sure, that could be arranged; you don't really seem like the type of girl that makes apologies that much!' he joked, grabbing his belongings and moving into step beside her. She snorted up at him, and laughed a little - she wanted to know about his life, his travels, his home; anything to keep her demons at bay.

Jack was hooked: there was no other word for what she did to him in those precious moments as he watched her mulling over secret things in her mind, the way her forehead creased in the middle when something moved her; these little things yanked on his heart strings and foolishly, perhaps, he surrendered to it. Nothing could come of this friendship, of course he knew. But that fear in her eyes - the sheer desolation of her plight, had him reaching out for her to bring her to safety; anything to save her from whatever scared her. The leaves picked up their dancing, as the pair moved by them, as though the energy between their two hearts sparked a magic electric current in the air - tainting even the sombre clouds with a silver lining of hope.

XXXXX

'No, Jack! that can't possibly be true!' Rose cried in a delighted, wondering tone - sounding rather child-like; her troubles were temporarily forgotten as Jack captured her in a story of his time in Paris.

'Yep, it's the honest truth! I've seen it with my own eyes!' Jack laughed.

'Ugh, there is so much world out there! it goes on all around us and we barely see any of it; it's like we get so caught up in our own problems that we're spinning round in circles until everything gets fazed out...you could live your whole life never knowing what you missed...' Rose rambled, somewhat to herself. Jack's smile waned slightly at the sadness in her voice, as he watched the ground that lay chilled beneath them. His hands were in his pockets again as they made their third circle around the whole of the lake.

'What are you thinking, now?' Rose questioned, as the words between them halted though their feet did not.

'About, how we've managed to skip the subject of you.' Jack said rather directly, that it caught her off guard. Noticing her hesitance, he went on,'we've walked circles around this lake already, I want to know more about you...'

'There's nothing much to tell...it's probably no different to what you'd expect from any girl in a rich family.' She said shortly. At his silence, she went on,' I live in a big house, I go to parties at night, I drink tea with ladies and I own more gowns than I care to remember.' Her tone saddened as she uttered,'Just another rich girl, I'm afraid. Nothing more...'

'You're lying.'

Rose turned to look up at him in hurt surprise. 'Excuse me?'

Jack walked on, shaking his fair haired head with a sour grin on his face. 'I'm not buying it. C'mon, the sad little rich girl routine? I think it's horse shit.' He turned to look back at her and saw her rage ignite at his remarks.

Rose marched up to him and retorted,' You're calling me a liar? How dare you! you think you know it all, do you? well, let me tell you something - you don't know anything about me, or my life! - so don't try and presume-'

'What? - that you're more than just some poor rich girl?' He cut across, locking her in his intense gaze. 'Look, I know rich people. I know that rich people don't condescend to talk to some poor artist on a park bench! I also know, that if you were just another rich girl, you wouldn't still be with me right now.' He stepped closer to her now and said softly,'I just know it; you are so much more than what you pretend you are...'

Rose felt like her stomach was doing cartwheels in her belly as she responded to his words. She sucks in the chilly October air, gently and lets herself lean into his voice as it permeates the air around her, telling her things that no one had ever said to her before. The winds whispered in the trees and the leaves began to shush them, though they pranced in their hundreds around the young man seemingly serenading them with his words as he gazed upon his ethereal companion.

'...I should be going.' She said hesitantly, stepping around him as he bowed his head, 'Mother will wonder where I am...and you don't know Ruth - trust me, it's not pleasant to annoy her.'

He slid his hands into his pockets and turned in the direction of the exit, with the army green satchel containing his portfolio slung at his side. 'I'll walk you.'

'There's no need, I assure you.' Rose said, more than slightly torn by where she wanted to go; toward jack, or the exit.

'It's no trouble, I was gonna head back, too.' Jack shrugged off her refusal like the polite mannerism that it was. He had no patience for it, and wanted her to know that she wasn't getting off that easily. But, in the way she stepped beside him, he figured she wasn't too eager to be rid of him either as they walked through the black metal wrought gates together and down the street. The automobiles roared and could be heard further into the city, from the quiet residential housing situated around the park. Jack and Rose went around a corner and entered a main street, bustling with people and noisy with the mingling of many separate souls. Some joined for mere moments, by the brush of a hand or an elbow - and others walking the same path, close and weary.

'Stay close, we could lose each other.' Jack told her, and she responded in kind by curling her fingers into the crook of his arm. Tingling at the place where her fingertips touched him, he faced forward [effectively shielding the slight unnerve in his eyes] and together, jumped into the fray.

XXXX

In a tea shop not far off from the main street, sat Ruth Bukater, Caroline Hartley and a few other ladies of the good fortune to have pleasing circumstances. In terms of 'pleasing', one could infer great financial security, a handsome estate and at least one son to maintain those pleasing circumstances, if not a useful daughter - to ensure they nabbed one, eventually!

'Yes, unofficially Caledon and Rose have been together for some months - have they not, Caroline, dear?' Ruth said smugly as the other ladies listened with scorn at her good fortune.

'Oh, yes Ruth - and I couldn't be more pleased with the match! Rose will make a fine wife to the Hartley name and they do make such a handsome couple. One can only imagine the beauty of the little darlings we may be spoiling a year or so, from now!' Caroline gushed as the ladies ooh'd at the colourful happiness in her voice as she went on. They all took turns looking at one another, enthralled by these two powerful women; blindly inspired by all they represented as the prime socialites of their exclusive community.

'And, can we expect that their official announcement of the engagement will take place at the Autumn Ball?' someone asked.

And almost as if they had rehearsed the whole conversation, Ruth and Caroline grinned as if daring each other to divulge their little secret to the world. Each looked out at their admiring audience of first class ladies and nodded emphatically. Much to the chorus of ooh-ing and giggles - came one astonishingly dramatic gasp, then came a shrill voice, 'Oh, there is a woman swooning in the arms of a man!' everyone in the tea shop turned to the window and glimpsed a young man with his arms around a young woman, leaning heavily against the window.

'Oh, how disgraceful! caressing in front of a tea house window, like that!' a lady outraged.

'Ladies, please - it's none of our affair what the lower class do in broad daylight, after all it is the reason we are separated in the first place!' Ruth said, before sipping her cup of tea - not even bothering to acknowledge the uproar in the quaint little tea shop.

'Ruth is right,' Caroline agreed,'first class is superior in every way, thus we cannot allow this travesty to destroy our God-given poise.' having attained the murmur of agreement in the tea room, it was silently decided that the window no longer existed and each occupant went about looking any which way, apart from the direction of the window. Ruth, being totally unaffected, was ready to turn the conversation back to herself and the advantageous marriage she had single-handedly scored for her daughter, when icy eyes jackknifed into a watery pair belonging to none other than:

Rose.

As soon as the coin had dropped, in the space of about 2 heart beats, Rose's horrified mouth hung agape as she tugged on the young man's sleeve, desperately wanting to vanish from the immediate vicinity. Now, dragging the oblivious boy away from the store window, she started a quick pace down the road, letting go of him and praying out loud with hellish fervor that maybe, just maybe, Ruth had not noticed her for who she was, nor second, that she was in the company of an unknown gentleman, nor third, and perhaps most importantly - the gentleman was no gentleman at all, and in fact a poor lower class man - that she found in a park, no less! - 'oh, good heavens! it sounds absurd even in my own mind!' Rose gradually slowed down and was about ready to crumple in a heap as she was yanked back by the hand and swirled around the other way.

'Eyes to me. Keep them on me...' Jack cupped her face and grabbed her glazed oceanic stare with his sky-lit one. Sea and sky met harmoniously in that moment and Rose felt her frantic heart begin to slow down from its wild panic.

They stood like that for a few minutes. The street was empty and bright - accompanied only by the faint sound of the breeze, traveling in the distance.

'Are you alright?,' Jack asked her softly, using that tone that managed to undo her whenever he spoke. Breathing calmly now, with an empty headed-ness one only acquired in a drug-induced sleep, Rose flexed her fingers at her sides as she grew more and more aware of his close proximity - forgetting all too quickly that she was previously leaning on him to stop herself from falling down like the messy jumble of nerves that she was. She nodded perceptibly and moved out of his reach.

Jack was more than a little agitated by her, since they had been shoved into that window by the rough crowd, racing rudely passed them. Rose's back was pressed into the glass, with him pressed into her - trying ardently to brace his palms against the window, to keep a modest distance between their bodies. Yes, he was an ordinary man, and yes, she was the most appealing woman he'd ever met - but he felt like she was walking round in circles in his head, already. Had already taken up swift residence in his soul.

He needed time.

But, by God - he was way in, over his head. He knew it when he watched those abyss-like eyes of hers move from an unseeing gaze, to a flickering awareness of his touch, he could tell by the way her neck began to flush. He felt it when her misted breath fanned his face, ghosting over those parted pink lips of hers.

'I have another question, Jack.' Rose said, taking in their surroundings.

'Name it.' Jack replied, placing his hands back in their pockets.

'Do you know magic tricks, or something?' She asked. Jack frowned, cocking his head to the side.

'You've brought me home.' She gestured to the large white gates of the house they were 10 yards in front of.

'Woah.' He whistled, taking in the shear size of the residence. He had been totally oblivious to the street until now, but finally recognizing it for what it was, overwhelmed him.'You weren't kidding when you said you lived in a big house, huh?'

'exactly right, Mr. I-know-everything Dawson.' Rose laughed, as Jack shook his head, smiling.

'So, I guess this is where we part, Miss Bukater,' Jack said, stepping close to her. Rose smiled sadly and nodded.

'It was...a real pleasure, Mr. Dawson.' She told him. Jack took her hand in his, bent his head humbly and kissed her gloved knuckle with sincerity, meeting her eye as he straightened - a blonde bang falling over his forehead, sweetly endearing him to her.

'The pleasure was all mine.' He promised. Rose recalled a chocolate eyed man echoing the same phrase, although it did not inspire the same butterflies in her belly as it did now. Rose smiled bitterly at him as she turned to let herself through the gates.

'Goodbye Rose.' Jack said, walking backwardly. 'Maybe I'll see you around.'

'Goodbye Jack.' Rose said, as the gate closed behind her. She wishes that she could tell him that maybe she would see him around, too. That maybe, they could sit on a park bench together and be companions once again.

But she held back.

What else could she do?

Her time, nor her heart, was hers to give any longer.

and the wind died down to low lying brushes of leaves shuffling their old dance shoes away, as the two souls seemingly detached from each other.

What good were those dance shoes anymore, if there was no music? they wondered to themselves, slipping silently into shadowy corners and against the ill-embracing concrete.

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