This ship clearly was more spacious on the inside than the outside had indicated.
Rose DeWitt Bukater, however, was more disturbed about the fact that the servants had apparently mixed up her luggage with the clothes of someone who couldn't decide if he was a man or a prostitute. The clothes that were in the closet of her stateroom! Rose
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When he spotted her, his heart stopped and he took a moment to appreciate the image of Rose in the window before rushing in.
"Rose! Rose. We aren't on the ship, Rose. I can't believe I found you."
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Though his eyes left little doubt but that he was thinking about it.
"We're not on the ship," Jack repeated as he brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I talked to some people back in the building where I woke up and they said we're in Maryland. And, get this, a hundred years in the future. Rose, I'm not sure if I'm in your dream or you're in my dream but there's no way this makes any sense."
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"How can we not be on the ship?" Rose asked, a little confused. "I mean, it seems so much bigger than it was last night, and I didn't know even the Titanic had parks and ponds, but it does seem very strange, Jack, if you're telling me we're in the future."
She paused. "...but if this is our dream why does Cal have to be in it?"
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"I don't know," he said. "I don't know how any of it works. I'm just glad to find you. It can't be a bad dream if you're here. Cal or no Cal."
He let his hand slide forward to brush his fingertips against hers lightly.
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"If you're here and I'm here and we're already in America, then -" she took a step closer to him, thrilling at his closeness and remembering the feel of his arms around her. "Maybe it is a very good dream."
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The risk felt good.
"The kind of dream where you don't want to wake up," he finished with a firm nod. "I bet we could get up to New York from here and just stay there a while."
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"Do you think we could, Jack?" she asked. "Maybe we'll only talk about it, but do you really think we could? Just - run off to New York?"
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"And a guy like me -- I'd be lucky just to have you around." More intimately, he added, "I'd draw you every day."
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"You could draw me now," she murmured.
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... yes, he was reading "draw" as meaning something a bit less innocent. Dun judge him.
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And she was entirely planning on paying him a dime for the drawing.
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He took her hand more firmly and reached for the notebook he'd repurposed to sketch in, tucking it under his arm before he turned to her with a cocky grin. "Ready when you are, Rose."
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She didn't care about what might come from this. She didn't care that Cal might be right there and that this was throwing everything to the wind. It was the only thing that seemed like a choice she could make on her own. One that didn't lead straight down that corseted road to live the same life her mother did, the same strict round of parties and people and marriage.
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"No, people back at the building" -- he jerked his thumb toward the dorms -- "said this was Maryland. I'm guessing that's not too close to home for you, huh?"
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