Of Heartbeats and Stardust

Of Love and Affection

Sunday night, around 6 p.m., April 14th aboard the RMS Titanic

The alarm clock rang at precisely eight at night, sending Harry and Winnie falling off of their respected sleeping areas; Harry off the couch and Winnie off the bed. They burt into a chorus of laughter.

"So this is what it feels like to be an officer," Winnie said as she stood up and stretched. Harry snorted. "I should like to break that alarm clock. It has been the bane of my existence for three days now."

He set to getting dressed and Winnie stretched out on the bed. As he finished he leaned over her and pressed a long to her lips. "Will I see you during my rounds?" he asked, his forehead pressed to hers.

He began to pull away but Winnie wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another long kiss.

Of course," she murmured through a grin.

Harry looked torn as he finally parted, lingering at the door with a smile. "You have to come soon. I'll be at the main deck."

He gave her one last, long look before he slipped out.

Winnie rolled over, squealing into her pillow with the energy of a little girl. She could feel her cheeks blooming like a flower, her pulse hammering in her chest. The last few hours from morning till now had been a blur of affection. It was as if all the feelings they had been harbouring for the last three days came pouring out.

At first she had been skeptical, even when both of their feelings were confessed. It was such a short time to fall in love with someone...if love was what she truly felt.

Winnie groaned into her pillow, her hand squeezing at the fabric over her chest. What even was love?

As if pulled back into a dream, Winnie found herself sitting in front of a young woman, fair of skin and hair. She was wearing nothing but cloth stockings, undergarments and a loose corset. She held a cigarette in her left hand and was petting Winnie's head with her right.

"I wish I had hair like your," she was saying. She put out the cigarette and grabbed a brush. Winnie sat still as she proceeded.

"If I had your hair, I would spend all day just combing it and braiding it." She laughed. "But instead I get to play with yours."

Winnie furrowed her eyebrows as pulled her knees up to her chest. "You don't need no hair like mine," she said. "So many boys love you already. What's the use in having hair like mine; nobody loves me like they do you."

She put her head down, pressing her lips together.

The woman stopped brushing, leaning over to look Winnie in the face. She tilted her chin with her pointer finger. "Oh, that's all bull shit." She tapped her nose and pulled back, resuming brushing her hair.

"Those boys don't love me, Winnie. They're controlled by adult urges. My job is to tempt them with those urges, which is how I can live comfortably. But you, honey, you wouldn't do the kinds of the things I do because you're a good girl."

"But they're always kissing you and hugging you," Winnie protested. She crossed her arms. "I wish a boy would do that stuff with me."

The women tapped Winnie's head playfully. "Kissing and hugging and all those things don't mean nothing if a boy doesn't love you."

"How am I supposed to know if he loves me?" Winnie demanded. "If it's not because he kisses me, how am I supposed to tell?"

The woman sighed, her brushing slowing down as she looked out into space. "If a man really loves you...he would do anything for you, even if it could bring trouble to himself. But you've got to love him back just as much."