Unsinkable

April 14th

I wake up, flooded with overjoyed feelings. Connor's face fills my headspace as I push myself up from the layers of blankets. Sleep has brought clarification on my true feelings and with that a sense of excited nervousness. I smile and bite my lip looking into the mirror. A day of new possibility. I brush out my long curls that have turned ratty due to the style of the night before. I let my hair stay down and tie a few strands with a bit of ribbon. I look a bit younger than my 19 years but the change is a welcome one, after last night. Not having to deal with my hair more than letting it full among my shoulders I'm able to get out of my cabin fairly quickly after dressing.

There doesn't seem to be anyone out and about. When I raise my hand to knock on the Walsh's door I realize that it's Sunday and many, including Connor, would be at the services in the dining halls. I let my fist fall back to my side, rather disappointedly. As much as I want to see Connor I know there will be plenty of time the rest of the day to have a long and thoughtful conversation. I try not to let the disappointment get to me, instead I head to the café by myself. 

I find a table to myself without the help of any server. I look down at the menu in front of me and then out of the corner of my eye see that I've attracted the attention of several men drinking their coffee. I turn back to my own business determined not to let it bother me. I feel so free today, so sure of what my life will look like.

"Biscuits miss?" My daydreaming is interrupted by my server. I smile up at him.

"Yes." I set the menu down. "Some tea as well please." He nods and turns away while I gracefully take the nakin from its place and lie it across my lap. My order comes to me almost immediately, something I'm still not perfectly accustomed to. I thank my server and go to spreading the butter and jelly, all with a smile. I find that my thoughts are still on Connor and what I could possibly say to him.

As I finish my breakfast the room is filling with the church crowd. I look around for any sign of my companions but they're not to be found. Too shaky with emotion I turn to the main deck instead of heading back to my room. I stop in the library to grab a pen and parchment with the intention of writing another telegram. My pen hovers above the paper. I'm still too distracted. No special words come to me. When I realize I won't be sharing anything of much importance I relay back to a basic message building off of what I had said 2 days ago. After sitting for several more moments and not coming up with anything revolutionary I rise and head back out to the decks. Walking up from A deck to the boat deck itself I take in the day. It's quite brisk outside but the water far below me seems calm. I grip my note in my hand not wanting it to fly from my grasp. I close my eyes to the wind feeling it blow back my hair. I turn back to the center of the ship and trace my steps to the Marconi room.

It seems that the final services from below have been released because more and more people are appearing from the decks. I pull the door open lightly and slip in. It's not busy as it had been the other day, the only two present are Bride and Phillips. They're so busy tapping away they don't even turn to me as the door opens. I take a step forward and admire them as they do their work. The machine sparks as they press out messages at blinding speed. Harold reaches back for the next card on the enormous stack and notices me. When he faces me I see dark circles under his eyes. He looks extremely tired. He slides his headphones down around his neck and pushes away from his place. "Miss O'Neil." He says with a fatigued smile. He looks down to see that I too carry a message. His shoulders slump and his initial warmth slides away. 

I tuck my postcard back behind me out of sight. Phillips has also turned away now. "Sorry... I can see that you're busy, it's not all that important." I say trying to tuck the silly message away. Phillips shakes his head and holds out a hand to me waving his fingers asking for the note. I hand it to him ashamed. "Really it's not all that important." Phillips tosses it in a pile and goes back to work.