CarolineKnight

"Jack," Rose whispered weakly, shaking him slightly, "Jack, a boat." He slid his eyes open a millimeter, willing himself to move. His breath rattled in his chest as the cold slammed back into his body. Rose was leaning on his hands, but he couldn't feel it. He had never been this cold in his life, or this afraid. The ornate piece of wood that was once a headboard to a grand bed had been eaten away, the brassy color drained and replaced by a dull toupee. "We—we have to get—get to the boat…" he stammered, his blue lips barley capable of forming coherent words. "Oh, Jack," Rose seemed to collapse in relief, "I—I thoug