Serenity

The Torment

The Torment

The marvellous Saturday night gave way to a tormenting Sunday morning.

***

Fabrizio's snores in the bunk above were not the only thing that interrupted Jack's ability to settle down for the night and sleep. He should have been sleeping soundly on a night like tonight. As soundly as he usually slept beneath the stars. Under bridges. On rickety trains. He had never needed to be fully surrounded by the luxury of comfort to rest his head, but tonight, something was stopping him, or more thtakenikely, it was someone who was stopping him.

The gentle hum of the engines below him should have helped to lull him to rest. But alas, not the. He was restless. Beyond that. Beyond anything that he had ever felt. Even in the aftermath of his parent's death, he hadn't felt such an inability to settle down and sleep. His mind had a brilliantly agonising way of ensuring he stayed awake, imagining every little detail of an event which made him feel as restless as hell.

After leaving Rose at the First-Class Entrance, uncountable hours before, he slowly made his way back to the loneliness of his bunk. As soon as he had left, it was as though the sun had shined its final rays. It was peculiar, having used to be alone for so long, feeling empty as though he was devout of anything other than living for the joy of her. That was the moment that he realised something else, something far deeper; he was falling for her.

The full pillow beneath his head might as well have been cold stone. Instead of being able to sit up to allow his head to calm, Jack couldn't without hitting his head upon the bunk above, so he slowly slipped his body out of bed, wearing just his undergarments and ignored the coldness of the room.

On the floor in the pitch black, he trampled upon the dinner suit that had started as a game and had now felt so damned real. His bottom sank to the floor, he leaned back against the bed, running his fingers across his forehead and through his hair before resting his head against his knees.

This was going to be bad.

The Swedes slept silently. Fabrizio would occasionally toss and turn before muttering something incomprehensible in Italian as he always did when he was drunk.

These had been the only fragments of his life for so long; art and travelling with Fabrizio. Opening his heart to the ways of the world, of submerging himself into new territory and that was exactly what he had expected to achieve tonight by attending dinner with Rose. This little game that had started so innocently, had grown into something that was beyond himself.

God, she had been achingly beautiful when descending those stairs. Perhaps that was an image which he would carry with him for the rest of his life. The way her eyes had gazed at him curiously. Taking her hand, like that of a gentleman and kissing it, had caused them both to laugh like children. He knew that was the piece of her life missing; fun, happiness, the ability to laugh and not be so serious all of the time.

She was treated like a beautiful songbird. Her song that she created with her laughter and voice charming the company, her feathers beautiful and well maintained only to be admired, never to be allowed outside her cage, to fly freely, even just once.

It was as though, and if she cracked her facade, then she would be punished for it. The dinner which he had attended was beyond rigid in its formalities. As though if one piece was removed then the whole illusion would shatter. He wished to shatter that and remove her from the endless parade of it all.

Rose was a playful creature; he had found out only by having a thorough conversation upon decks through this little game that they were playing, but as she had almost run back inside after dancing, it was clear to see that it became something else to Rose, too, something meaningful.