𝐌𝐑. 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 - 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐒𝐎𝐍

TWO || INVITED FOR DINNER

y/n l/n

"What're you drawing?" I asked as I peered over Jack's shoulder.

"Oh. Um — them. Over there." Jack pointed his charcoal pencil over to a father holding his kid up on the railing, showing her the ocean.

"The ship is nice, huh?" Fabrizio asked from next to us, his elbows resting on the top of the bench.

"Yeah," said the person he was talking to, "it's an Irish ship."

'So the Titanic is an Irish ship. Good to know. I think.'

"Is English, no?"

"No, it was built in Ireland," the man corrected. "15,000 Irish men built this ship. Solid as a rock," he continued as I looked toward the ocean, "big Irish hands." He glanced at the dogs walking by. "Typical. First-class dogs come down here to take a shite."

"Lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things," Jack added, looking up as the man took a puff of his cigar.

"It's not like we'll forget or anything," I remarked, sliding down on the bench.

The man laughed and offered both of his hands to us. "I'm Tommy Ryan."

"Jack Dawson and Y/N L/N," Jack introduced us both as we shook each of his hands. "Hi."

"Fabrizio," Fabrizio added, shaking Tommy's hand as well.

"Hi." Tommy slid the cigar out of his mouth and glanced at Jack. "Do you make any money with your drawings?"

"I don't really sell 'em," he explained, and while I was looking around, my eyes landed on this woman who was walking up to the railing. She had to come from first-class since she had this very expensive-looking dress on. But...she looked upset for some reason.

I frowned. 'I hope she's all right.'

~~~~

"Have any more of those cigars?" I asked Jack as we lay on the bench together, looking up at the starry night sky.

"Yeah. Here." He reached up and handed it to me, and like a cheesy romantic nickelodeon, our fingers touched for a split second before I took it from him.

As I was about to take a puff, I suddenly saw the woman from earlier running past and sobbing hysterically, and I immediately sat up, tapping Jack's leg. "Jack."

He sent me a confused look as he also sat up. "What?"

I pointed at the woman who was now standing by the railing.

And slowly, she reached out for the railing, stepped on it, and then, to my horror...

...stepped over it, barely standing on the very edge of the ship, looking down into the dark ocean.

'She's not...she isn't...if she's trying to, she'd be...completely crazy...'

Jack and I immediately shot up and shared concerned looks before he grabbed my arm ("C'mon,") as we hurried over.

"Don't do it," he warned, reaching out with his free hand.

The woman looked behind her at us, alarmed. "Stay back!" she warned. "Don't come any closer."

"Miss, come on." I walked a few steps forward, outstretching a hand for her to take. "Just give us your hands, and we'll pull you back over."

"Stay where you are!" The woman leaned further out, still keeping a grip on the railing. "I mean it. I'll let go."