━━ 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂 :
❛ maeve scott and harold lowe try to
find love in one another despite the
universe doing everything in its power
to keep them apart ❜
[ loosely based on the 1997 film titanic...
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. . . . .
( 10 april, 1912 )
HER LAST TWO WEEKS in Brighton went by far too quickly.
When young Maeve awoke on the morning of April 10, she wasn't at all surprised to find that the city was covered with a dreary haze. Not a single ray on sunshine was visible, and occasional raindrops fell from the cloud cover above, landing on the Scott family as they packed the last of their belongings in two shiny automobiles.
Maeve was reluctant to leave her bedroom for what she knew to be the last time. She stood out on the balcony just as she had when her father told her the news of their sailing to America, her eyes trained on the rest of her family in the garden below. Her father stood with his valet near the front of the automobiles while his wife, Martha, counted the number of luggage for the umpteenth time that morning.
Maeve's younger brother, Francis, stood off to the side. He seemed eager to board what was titled "The Queen of the Ocean" by various newspapers, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet despite the countless disapproving glares that Martha shot his way. The youngest Scott sibling had a passion for ships and claimed that, if his father hadn't kept such a watchful eye on him, he would have run off to become a sailor long ago.
Maeve wished that she could share her brother's enthusiasm, for it wasn't every day that one had the opportunity to sail on a ship as large and as luxurious as Titanic. Before making even a single crossing, the ship was already one of the most famous in the entire world– and being among those lucky enough to be aboard during the maiden voyage should have been a cause for excitement.
She couldn't remember being so sad when her family moved from Barmouth to Brighton. Perhaps it was because she still had her mother then, and she wasn't being sent across an entire ocean to marry a man she'd only ever met once. Not only was she leaving her freedom as an unmarried woman behind in England, she was also leaving her mother's grave.
The thought alone made a single tear fall from her eye, but she was quick to reach up and wipe it away.
She turned away from her balcony with a sigh, allowing her eyes to travel over the barren bedroom. All of her furniture was there still– her bed, her wardrobe, and the desk at which she sat and read nearly every night– but the belongings that made it her room, like her books, her journal, and the old photograph of her family taken a year before her mother died, were all packed up inside the automobiles that would take them to Southampton.
There was a knock on the door, and a moment later, her younger sister, Loretta, poked her head inside. "You cannot hide in here forever," she softly chided.
Maeve defiantly crossed her arms over her chest, wrinkling the bust of her gown (which Martha had gotten tailored specifically for this day) in the process. "Watch me," she grumbled.
