▐ ◜ gold-lined memory. ◞

               ❝If it’s so FINE,  then WHY do               we keep on DISCUSSING IT?❞

                  The words come out perhaps more hostile                   than the female had meant them to. But it                   isn’t like she makes EXCUSE after EXCUSE                  day after day to TALK about these things.

                  ❝You’re making me want to go home,❞ she                   threatens, knowing this will make him recoil.                   If she’d rather be with Tom, then something                   he’s doing is wrong, needs CORRECTION.

                  To emphasize her POINT, Daisy gets up to                   her feet, to escape those CANDIED words                   and that butterfly touch. She wants to YELL                   at him, say she can tell her own HUSBAND                   that she’s leaving him.. But it would be a lie.

                  ❝I want Nick. And Jordan. They both have                   to be there. Or else I can’t do it.    I won’t.❞

        his eyes follow her as she stands,  arms  briefly            reaching  for her as she does so before dropping to            his lap. He appears entirely serious now, with hope            of redeeming  himself after  her mention of wanting            to go home racks him with the fear that  he’s made            a mistake.

                   ❝ We’ll plan a date,  then --- you  and  I,                     along with Tom, Nick, and Jordan. I can                     speak to Nick about it this afternoon. ❞

        he then moves to stand with her, trying his best            to simultaneously progress this issue  forward and            make her content with it.

♥ – Eyes wandered him and every single feature, noticing         the toll the decade had taken on him, every little detail         only slightly altered, experience torn & time worn. The         once beautiful porcelain face he once set his eyes on         was altered as well, simple signs of her journey through         her life, living on through on her own after the rather         life changing wreck that tore down her old life & cut the         ties she had to the DeWitt-Bukater name & anything         having any connection to Mr. Caledon Hockley, she         was able to start over, carrying Jack’s memory of his         name along with her towards her future. Years of her         long awaited mourning period for her lover’s assumed         death, the younger Rose would only find herself pushing         through her new found poverty & freedom. Dainty, deco-         rated fingers glazed over his cheek, making her hand         somewhat of a compassionate pillow for his cheek.         Never had she felt so at home after being so lost for         so long.         She nodded at his question. She was real, breathing,         alive, falling in love like she had taken a swan dive all         over again for the same man who had melted her heart         all that time ago. Her colored lips twitched into the smile         that was almost comparable to the rising sun. Rose         kept nodding, it was almost unstoppable.                        “ – Yes.. “         Her voice was breathless, airy, faint, relieved. It was a         sigh, breathing life into the bustling air that surrounded         them.                                “Yes, it’s me. I’m really here.”         It felt like she had to almost remind herself of plain fact,         that she was alive, leaving the open question of his         existence up in the air, believing this was just another         repeating dream of her thousands of hopeful wishes         that maybe, just maybe, she could see him , touch him,         feel him, once more.                                 “– Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

         her smile served as contagious,  the  corners  of his             mouth lifting into one as well while his brows remained             furrowed  in  a  showcase  of  his  relief and  happiness             with her words. His gaze was deep,  adoration   shining             from   his  eyes  in   the  type   of  look   you’d   give   to             breathtaking   scenery;   dazed   from   the  beauty  and             wishing to never look away.  In  a quick movement,  he             pulled her  closer  to  himself,  arms encasing  her in a             tight  embrace.  Having her  in  his arms again was the             best feeling in the world.  An  extensive  sense  of loss             that had been eating away at  him  had now been  lifted,             hopefully to never return.

                    ❝ You’re not. ---You’re not dreaming. ❞

         he dared not  to let go,  the  gentlemanly  demeanor             he’d learned and held onto being pushed to the side as             more of the young man he used to be surfaced.  It was             as though he’d been brought back in time, to the decks             of the  Titanic with her  before anything at all had gone             wrong and before he had any ambitions of pure wealth             and high social standings. It was refreshing.

     “Ah, uh…Well, no. Maybe somethin’ light.           S’cuse me if I come across as such an’ all.                   Just ain’t real used to big crowds.

                 …How many would ya say’s attending here tonight?”

❝Well, I simply couldn’t help myself, Mr.Gatsby.❞

“A spring fruit, perhaps, in the South; I was under the impression they were difficult to come by in New York.”

a chuckle erupts from his throat, still a DEEP   sound cloaking the air around his face.              ❝ Of course it is. Tell me; what other                   outrageous trends  do they allow?                 Perhaps   brightly coloured hair too? ❞

        briefly, he turns his head  away, a  subtle  and            quick shake of  his  shoulders  indicating  a  nearly            inaudible laugh.  It’s  difficult  to  keep  his  nerves            at ease around Tom.