My Clarity

Chapter twenty three

‘’Rose, you’re so stupid,’’ Jack’s voice shook, unable to stop trembling as he pulled at Rose’s coat sleeve, ‘’you’re so damned stupid.’’

His breathing grew erratic as the adrenaline refused to die down. Given the chance, he probably could have carried on dragging out the entire contents, the charred bodies and everything with it.  Was there any blame to be laid? He felt like tearing at someone, but his own body seemed to fail him, pulling and aching as he dragged himself from the depths of Hell and followed Rose’s scent. With chattering teeth, he focused on Rose, and searching for her eyes within the darkness with a new quietness which had fallen over them. Scotland Road was dark and empty, the stokers and boiler room workers who had been taken away before had disappeared. Smoke filtered out, causing an eerie glow and doom in the corridor and Jack led her towards the crew quarters, towards the light which was looming out ahead near the entrance to the lower decks. It was like a different space, without much panic or warning of what was happening—or what had happened, just metres below their feet. How the First-Class must be sleeping or laughing of any impending doom with a glass of liquor and jest.

Jack’s shirt was completely torn, so as Rose placed her trembling hand upon his shoulder, he shuddered, the feeling that he only had from her touch. Raking her hand across his blackened face, he clutched onto his chest and let out a cough, so body-wracking, that Rose held onto him to aid in supporting any way which she could. It continued, and he covered his mouth, but it did very little to help. It was as though someone was clawing the last breaths out of him.

‘’I am not stupid for finding you,’’ she warned through gritted teeth, ‘’how could I let you go. Allow you to die in the bottom of Hell? How could I--’’ Rose couldn’t finish as she watched him with a fiery gaze which made his blood warm in an instant, he moved his bloodied right hand to her nape, pulling her mouth to his in the most breath-taking kiss one could ever have. Her body weakened, melting against his without a care of how torn his shirt was, how wrecked his appearance was. They clattered back against the wall, too weak to stand alone and care about the smoke which lingered about, leaking inwards as though slowly sneaking up to them. As his hands went into her hair, his tongue caressing hers. For the first few seconds, Jack kept his head. A bit of nibbling pressure. A confident slide of tongue. Then, Rose moaned. Hummed against his lips. And her scent spiralled him into intoxication. His mouth wanted more of her. His heart hammered against his chest. He tightened his muscles, resisting the urge to drive her higher against the wall of the blackening passages. He needed to keep control. This was about distraction. Distracting himself from the fire, from having dragged men away from their death, having almost lost himself and then, seeing Rose above him as he had almost given up hope at the bottom of a molten hot ladder. His reasons for striving for the survival wasn’t for himself, but for her; to scold the woman he was in love with for even chancing her life to search for him, and now, there wasn’t a chance he could stop holding onto her. He was mad, seething, for her coming to find him but then it had lit a fire within himself, a passionate one, burning brighter than he could have ever known and that had driven him to near madness this very minute. Rose more than cared for him in return, that would be the only reason for her risking her own life; that or insanity.

Rose’s arms slid around his neck. Her mouth tilted. Opened. Begged him for more. She shifted so her thigh moved between his; brushing and pressing to shoot him into the sky with her softness against his hardness. The need for her spun him in spirals of heat, despite the actual heat of their surroundings. He clasped her harder. Gripped her neck and pulled her mouth tighter. Ate at her like a starving animal. And it still wasn't enough. Soft, sweet lips. Not merely willing but eager. She whimpered and pulsed her hips against him. Circling. Grinding. Demanding.

How long had he lived without this? Without her? How hungry had he been? So hungry he hadn't understood its vastness. Until now. It wasn’t just a physical pull, but it was intellectual, it was mentally, it was primal and everything in-between. He drove her body upward against a door which loomed behind them, testing the heat with the palm of his hand before pressing her against it with her back straightened.