Words

Words.

They consumed her. It made her smile, those everlasting smiles.

They wrapped their way around her and made her want to start a brand-new story.

Words in the past had been empty. Now, they were brimmed with something beautiful that had taken her heart away—words of absolute honesty, pure brilliance, and wisdom. His smile reached his eyes when he spoke with her. The blue of the ocean, which she found within his eyes, listening intently to his wonderful and glorious tales, were glimmers of joy for the future, which could be spent entwined with the other. They talked everlasting words—words of promise and hope.

How could one not believe a single word which he had said?

He could show her how to bring those words to life—those plans they had made together at the sunset. It was almost like he was instructing her actions; he could propel her to find that happiness she had chased for so long.

The words seduced her with that gorgeous voice and how his eyes sparkled. The world's way had changed significantly, taking with it any preconceptions that a young woman may have put up as a protective guard her entire life, for that was all she had been taught. With a few words, he had torn down all barriers—just with those words.

''I'm Jack Dawson.''

''Rose Dewitt Bukater.''

There was an introduction, an exchanging of names, and then a laugh. She had laughed at him, at his words.

''I'll have to get you to write that one down.''

He had talked her out of jumping from the back of the Titanic.

They talked about their lives, ambitions, and dreams.

He offered her words. Words of encouragement, words to fetch tears and to provoke such a flow of emotions one didn't know just where it stemmed from. Emotions which one didn't know existed.

Words were all he had.

Promises were made: to take her to a pier in Santa Monica one day. Their imaginations had taken them from the decks of a ship at sunset, to the glorious Santa Monica pier, to the rollercoaster which sat there and awaited them, to the horses to ride in the surf whilst side by side, to the beach which they would lay with their toes in the sand and cheeks red from such sea salted air pinching at them.

He would look at her eyes in the morning sun there and then pull her to kiss those lips just as he did at the ship's bow at sunset; feeling the breeze within their hair, the touch of the other would keep them warm.

He would believe in her and encourage her with his words. For she lived in a world filled with fools, and she was not one of them; he had told her so, and with her actions, she had shown him just who Rose Dewitt Bukater really was: a thoroughly modern woman, one who would dance, dream, drink, and smoke, and above all, she would love him. Rose would love with her entire life.

Jack had broken her away from the fools; she was safe with the knowledge of her destiny from the second he had told her such beautiful, truthful words in the gymnasium...

''Rose, you're no picnic, you're a spoiled brat even, but under that, you are the most wonderful woman I have ever known...''

''You're amazing.''

But her response had been a lie; ''I am marrying Cal. I love Cal.''

His words had cut her up, ripping the flat statement in half. ''They have you trapped, and you will die if you don't break free, maybe not right away because you are strong, but sooner or later, that fire that I love about you, Rose. That fire will burn out.''