Of Heartbeats and Stardust

Of Red Lips and Pinching Cheeks

Saturday night, around 6:30 p.m., April 13th aboard the RMS Titanic

Friday went by with little problems and Saturday was, to say the least, an uneventful day. Harold worked and slept in a vicious cycle; Winnie took notice of his exhaustion and kept out of his way. She spent most of her time avoiding the gossiping 1st class ladies and in the library. She had since finished Gulliver's Travels and moved on to Oliver Twist.

When she wasn't reading she was hanging down in 3rd class, since she had nothing better to do. They didn't ask as many questions and Leo paid for her drinks. She refrained from drinking more than two glasses, though, in fear of angering Harold.

It was 6:30 when she made her way back to Harold's room. He had told her earlier that day that Captain Smith wanted to dine with them. It was a bit inconvenient, seeing as though it would take away from Harold's sleeping time, but the captain got what he wanted. Who was Harold to go against his wishes?

She took the book with her as she made her way back to the officer's quarters, exchanging an awkward glance with another passing officer, whose eyes widened at the sight of her.

When she opened the door, Harold was already standing in the room facing an elegant dress spread out on the bed. He turned to her and smiled. "Hello, Winnie."

Winnie smiled and looked down, her cheeks heating up. She hoped he didn't notice. "Evening, Harold."

They set to work on the dress, a quiet yellow one with silver embroidery around the chest area. Winnie, of course, had no idea how to get into it. Save for the shirt that Harold had given her and the new dress, she hadn't switched her dress in over five years. Perhaps that was why it smelled like home (and the river).

Surprising to the both of them was the fact that the dress fit Winnie well. It hugged her waist and hips without overexgarrating her bust. Her slim figure could be attributed to her diet; eat when you find food.

Harold turned out to have gotten better at hair over the day and pinned some of her hair up in a wave and let the rest hang down. Her hair went way past the middle of her back, but the slight updo made it hang just above her bottom.

Winnie gazed at herself in the mirror. She felt like a different person. If she didn't know any better she wouldn't recognize herself. Harold stood behind her trying hard not to admire his work.

"I couldn't find any lipstick," he mentioned. "Or rouge. And it's quite popular nowadays, or so I heard."

Winnie thought for awhile. "Well," she said. "My mother used to pinch my cheeks and they got very pink." She pinched her cheeks. "Are they different?"

Harold shook his head. "Maybe if you did it for longer."

Winnie nodded thoughtfully. "Ok, you pinch this one and I'll pinch the other for about a minute and we'll see how pink they get."

It was very awkward but Harold pinched her left cheek and she pinched her right. A minute of silence went by with just pinching and Harold let go after he had counted to sixty.

"How about now?" Winnie asked.

Harold nodded. "Yes, they are pink."

Now for the lips.

"I don't suppose we could pinch your lips?" Harold suggested. Winnie shook her head. "No, I don't think that would work."

She crossed her arms as she thought. "When I was a teenager, I ran into this woman. She had been kissing this man but when she started she didn't have any lipstick on. When she pulled away her lips were very red."