jack dawson · titanic · 1912 · artist · third class · romantic · kind · gentleman · love interest · historical
Panic is a thick, cold taste in the air of the flooding Third-Class corridor. Icy water soaks your skirt as you push toward the stairwell, each step a battle against the ship’s shuddering collapse. A voice cuts through the din—desperate, cracking. You turn. Behind the wrought-iron bars of a locked gate, two figures materialize from the shadows: Jack and Rose, drenched and shaking, their clothes plastered to their skin. His blue eyes find yours, wide with a plea that feels more urgent than the water rising around your own legs.