Chapter Text
The clinking of glasses and inconsequential chatter around Winter perfectly matched the interior of the first class dining hall of the Titanic. Everything around her portrayed sophistication and grace, from the delicate china to the chandeliers above. Even Winter herself fit in perfectly with the scene around her, dressed in a flowing yellow dress that went to her wrists and ankles in a fluttering splendor that caught one's eye. Not that Winter was trying to catch anyone's attention— she wouldn't dare.
From across the table, Winter's stepmother pointedly lifted her chin at Winter, and Winter raised her chin. She absolutely despised her stepmother— the woman who had swept in only days after the passing of Winter's mother and taken over everything. She was a woman filled with cruelty, whereas Winter's mother had been nothing but light.
Of course, even Levana would have been possible to bear if Winter's father was still around. She had grown worse in the months since Evret Hayle's death, controlling Winter's life with full reign. But now she had gone too far, forcing Winter into a marriage with a man she hated, and dragging her from her England home all the way to America.
"Are you alright, snowflake?" Aimery touched Winter's icy fingers with his own, moist, meaty ones. Winter hated that name. No, what she really hated was Aimery— the cruelest man upon the earth, and her fiancé.
For years and years, Aimery Park had circled around her like a vulture, waiting for the moment when her family was weakest— waiting to ask for her hand in marriage. He asked four times, and Winter had held out hope that he would forget her and move onto some other brainless rich girl who didn't care about love. But of course, he never did. It wasn't until Winter's father died that she accepted his proposal, begging her stepmother to allow her to say no.
Winter cried into her pillow for hours after her stepmother's verdict: "You must marry him. If you refuse, we'll both be ruined. How selfish are you to have opposed such a wonderful, rich young man for so long?"
So Winter accepted the proposal, plastering her brilliant smile upon her face while her heart shriveled up and died.
Suddenly, the room felt all-too small, as if she were trapped in an insect jar, and there were no holes carved into the top. She bolted from her seat, brushing off Aimery's hand and muttering "I need some air," before rushing out of the dining hall.
She burst forth from the crowded first class dining room and onto the deck of the ship, feeling the immediate chill of ice-encrusted air tearing through her chiffon dress like the vicious bites of an army of ants. She stumbled past a bench that held some lump of material, and toward the bow of the ship.
Her dress trailed behind her as a single speck of color in the night— a dash of sunshine within the dark. Dark tendrils of hair spilled around her face, the curls falling from her once intricately neat bun on the back of her head. But she didn't care about how she looked; no one was around to see her, and even if there was a soul upon the deck, she still wouldn't care.
Falling upon the railing, Winter released a wail into the night. Tears streamed down her face and into the black water below her. She watched as her own salty tears fell into the inky depths below her, and felt the pull towards the water, as if a siren sung below, calling her into oblivion.
As if in a trance, Winter pulled herself up upon the railing and over to the other side, setting her feet carefully on the very edge of the bow. Her shaking hands clutched at the railing from behind as she leaned forward into the blackness. If she let go, she would fall into oblivion.
"Don't do it," a voice called out from behind her, calm, yet warning.
Winter turned, her hands still clutching at the cold metal. Black curls flew into her eyes and onto the three tear-like scars tracing down her cheek. Her sunshine yellow dress flapped about her, making a loud whipping sound against the roar of the wind.
She took in the boy behind her— his features were striking, with long blond hair, and ice blue eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul. His face was somewhat angular and pointed, but the soft curve of his mouth was only gentleness.
"Stay back," Winter called, her voice near a shout. "Don't come any closer!"
The boy took a step closer to her. He stood only about ten feet from Winter, with a single hand outstretched toward her. "Just take my hand," the boy soothed, slowly coming within arms reach of Winter. "Just take my hand and I'll pull you back over."
"Get back!" Winter screamed, leaning farther out into the open air. "Get back, and I mean it! I'll jump!"
He dropped his arm to his side, and put both hands inside his grubby coat pocket. It was only then that Winter realized that he was the mound of fabric that had been upon the bench. His clothes were filthy, and his coat and trousers were speckled with holes. Yet somehow, he managed to look dignified— almost regal despite his grimy appearance.
His blue eyes bore into Winter and he tilted his head, as if examining her. He took another step forward, only a couple feet from her. "No you won't," he said, pale hair falling into his eyes.
"Don't tell me what I will and won't do," Winter scoffed, turning from him and staring out at the sea. Nothing but a pale half moon illuminated the vast expanse, casting a few lines of pale blue upon the choppy ocean waves. "You don't know me, so don't pretend that you do."
"Well," the boy shrugged, then turned to look out at the ocean. "If you were going to do it, you would have done it already."
Heat climbed up Winter's cheeks despite the cold, and she narrowed her eyes at the boy. "You're just distracting me. Go away."
"I can't," the boy muttered, a sly smirk upon his lips. "I'm involved now. If you let go, I'm gonna have to jump in there after you."
He pulled off his coat, folding it once before he set it upon the ground, leaving only a thin cotton shirt and suspenders to protect him from the wind. Then he leaned down, untying his boots and pulled them off his feet in one swift motion, setting them beside his coat.
"Don't be ridiculous," Winter scoffed, blinking a strand of hair from her eyes. "You'll die if you follow me."
"I'm a good swimmer," the boy said, placing his hands upon the railing, his fingers only inches away from Winter's own.
Winter glanced at his hands— they were pale and thin, with long fingers. For some reason, she found them to be the most beautiful hands in the world.
She snapped back, her eyes leaving the boy's hands, and jumping back to his crystal eyes. "The fall alone would kill you. Your broken body would simply sink to the bottom of the sea."
"It would hurt," the boy grinned, standing up on his toes as he peered into the vast sea. "But it wouldn't kill me."
Winter rolled her eyes, but kept them trained upon the sea. She longed for the nothingness— to get away from her wretched stepmother and loveless fiancé. To no longer exist seemed a better option than living the remainder of her life with people she hated.
"To tell you the truth," the boy continued, biting his lower lip. "I'm more concerned about the cold."
"What do you mean?" Winter asked, her head snapping toward him. It was already cold out— she didn't see how it could get much colder.
"Water like that," the boy clucked, shaking his head as he did so. "It's so cold that it practically feels like flames are licking your skin. The pain bites at you like a thousand knives piercing your flesh."
Winter turned her head back toward the water, feeling the gentle mist waft up to her face. The air itself was already freezing— she could hardly imagine a cold like the one this boy was describing to her. Already she couldn't feel her hands, and her legs tingled with a lack of feeling.
"Have you ever been to Wisconsin?" The boy asked her, turning his inquisitive eyes back upon Winter. His breath fogged the air around them, whisping away into the night.
"What?" Winter snapped.
"Wisconsin," the boy repeated. "It's where I grew up. They have the coldest winters there. One time I was out on a frozen lake with my father and fell through some thin ice. The water was freezing, and I've never endured anything more painful in my entire life. All you can think about is the pain with water that cold. The pain, and how you wish that it would stop."
"Why are you telling me this?" Winter asked, though her voice had calmed. She no longer felt angry, and she no longer felt much of a desire to jump into the water below. All the adrenaline from minutes before had drained out of her, leaving her body exhausted.
"Because I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you," the boy explained, leaning back from the railing. "Actually, I was kind of hoping that you'd decide not to jump and let me off the hook. But like I said— you jump, I jump."
Winter stared into his eyes, and knew that she couldn't let go of the railing. She didn't even know this boy, and yet here he was, making sure that she didn't jump off the great unsinkable ship. All the air seemed to leave her lungs and catch in her throat, leaving her at a loss for words.
"Come back to the other side," the boy whispered, reaching a steady hand out toward her. Winter stared at the pale fingers for a moment, then tentatively let go of the railing with one hand and took hold of his.
Grasping his hand tightly, Winter began to maneuver herself around to face the boy rather than the sea. She stood only inches from him, her red-rimmed eyes at level with his clear blue ones. "Phew," he whistled, a small smile taking over his lips. "I'm Jacin Clay," he said, his smile tugging unevenly upon his lips, pulling up higher on the left.
"Winter Hayle," she responded, somewhat breathlessly.
"Winter," Jacin's face twisted. "So I'm guessing you like the cold?"
Winter laughed weakly, but allowed Jacin to guide her up onto the railing. Her entire body shook as she raised her foot up onto the first bar of the rail, but Jacin held her steady, with one hand in hers and the other grasping her shoulder.
She placed her weight upon the foot resting on the rail, but it somehow caught on the flowing fabric of her dress. Winter slipped, and her body tumbled down toward the great expanse of ocean. She screamed, but didn't make it far as Jacin, who was still holding her hand kept her from plunging into the ocean below.
"I've got you!" he yelled, his face contorting with the effort of keeping her out of the depths of the sea. "I'm not letting you go, Winter. I will not let you fall."
Winter stared up at him, as tears streamed down her face and hair flew into her eyes. She whimpered and gasped, but nodded in acknowledgement of his words. For some reason, she trusted this man completely, despite not knowing him in the slightest. She knew he wouldn't let her fall.
"Now I need you to pull yourself up," Jacin grunted, his face straining with the effort of holding her up. "Come on, we'll pull together."
Yelling with the effort of dragging herself up, Winter somehow made it back to Jacin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto the deck of the ship. She landed on top of him, hair and dress spilling all about her.
For a moment, she stared into his eyes— he stared back with a sort of intensity that Winter had never before in her life seen. She leaned forward, as if to kiss him, seized with the sudden urge to feel his slightly chapped lips upon her own. But before she got the chance, a horde of men charged onto the deck.
They seized Winter, and pulled her off of Jacin. She yelled in protest, but they paid no attention to her. Rather, they took in Jacin on the ground, with his coat and shoes cast off beside him and let out a roar of outrage. Immediately they took hold of him and cuffed his hands, screaming at him as they did so. Winter tried to yell above them, but it was no use— they would not hear her.
Suddenly an arm wrapped around Winter's shoulder, and a rough hand patted her hair. She felt her insides twist at the familiar scent of Aimery's cologne. He held her tightly against him, though it felt different that the way that Jacin had held her. Aimery's grasp felt possessive, while Jacin's had been more of a protective embrace. She longed to go back to just moments before, when her body had been pressed up against Jacin's.
"Aimery," Winter gasped, playing the part of a damsel and distress, as she normally did around her fiancé. "This man has done no wrong. He saved me. I-I was looking over the edge and I fell, but he saved me. Please Aimery, please don't let them hurt him."
Aimery's dark eyes looked into her own, but with pity for her rather than love. "Alright, my snowflake," he responded, giving her a terse smile.
He released Winter, as if discarding something that he wasn't much attached to and walked over to the ship police who were handcuffing Jacin. "Release this man," he said, his voice somewhat bored as he proclaimed the words. "My fiancé claims," Aimery tossed his dark head in Winter's direction, and Winter knew that his eyes would be rolled back in his head. "That this man saved her from falling over the edge. Release him at once."
Without a moment's hesitation, the men released Jacin, uncuffing him, and leaving, with only slight glances at him as they left. Jacin rubbed at his wrists, his face pinching slightly as he grinned at the retreating backs of the ship police.
"Thank you," Aimery grunted as soon as the ship police had left them. "I very much appreciate you saving my silly little fiancé from falling to her death." He reached out his hand toward Jacin, holding a bill within it.
Jacin's nose scrunched, and he shook his head at Aimery. "No thanks," he said, looking directly at Winter and ignoring Aimery completely. "It was my pleasure."
"I'm sure," Aimery snarled, his hand retreating back into his pocket. "Well, if you will not accept my money, then I hope that you will accept an invitation to dine with my party tomorrow evening. Perhaps then you can recount the story of your heroics."
"I accept your offer," Jacin said, his American accent sounding strong in contrast with Aimery's own British. He spoke to Aimery, but never once did he take his eyes off of Winter.
Aimery sniffed, then nodded at Jacin. He wrapped his arm around Winter, and pulled her away from Jacin. She tried to keep her gaze upon the boy who had saved her, but she only caught one last look at him before Aimery dragged her away. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his eyes quizzical, as if to ask "why are you with this man?"
And if Winter was being honest with herself, she no longer knew why.