I was cruising Netflix the other day and somehow ended up watching an Imax movie about diving to the wreckage of the Titanic… so then I watched Titanic. Which somehow lead to me writing a klaroline fic. I haven't written anything or updated any of my stories in a really long time…. So this may be complete shit. Don't say I didn't warn you. Cause I did. Like just now. Yeah. To be honest I doubt any of you have even been reading this little blurb and have already just skipped ahead to what little text I've actually written below… okay ill stop now. Why do I feel like this is going to suck?

Disclaimer: All rights go to the rightful people and all that fun shit

Description: Caroline Forbes is one of the 705 people who survived the sinking of the Titanic on April 14th 1912, and one of only 6 pulled from the water. Only moments from death she somehow finds herself shivering in a life boat, wrapped in the arms of a sopping wet and hauntingly familiar man.

Attention: This chapter is probably going to be short. Really shot.

Chapter one: Life raft

The cries and pleas for help around her began to fade and weaken into helpless moans and eventual silence. Each breath was a struggle, the water pressed against her skin, clinging to it determined to drain whatever morsel of heat she had managed to cling too. She knew it was almost over. She had listened to those floating around her let out their final breathes, and let the darkness over take them. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. What could be worse than this? It was as if she could feel the blood in her veins turn solid. It was time.

She jolted to life. The bitterly cold air stung her lungs with every ounce of oxygen that came in contact with them. Her body quaked uncontrollably, every inch of her shaking against her will. It was then, as her limbs flailed that she realized that someone was holding her. The arms tightened around her form, as she continued to jolt about, her actions shaking the small vessel as it waded through the waters around them.

She pressed herself against the body of the one who was holding her, scrambling to absorb what little heat it had to offer. Yet the arms wrapped around her were soaked through as well. Water dripped against her forehead.

Any other thoughts were erased from her head as something was brought to her lips, and a warm liquid began to fill her mouth. The taste was all but lost. All that she could think about was the heat flowing from her mouth and through the rest of her body. She somehow found herself not shaking. Her lungs no longer burned as she took in air.

She broke away from whatever had been pressed against her lips, and glanced up into the face of the person who was holding onto her so fiercely.

She recognized him in an instant. She had spent countless nights sitting at a large table all alone watching as his curly hair flopped in his eyes as he twirled a beautiful blonde girl playfully across the dance floor, or laughed alongside the men who accompanied him. How many times had she wished to be part of that group? To feel like a guest on the so called ship of dreams rather than a prisoner being transported to her fate. Yes, she had watched him. Wishing to take the place of the girl on his arm, or even replace of the men who sat at his table.

Yet this is how they met. She had said to herself that she wanted nothing more than to know what it felt like to be in his arm. Now, when she had come so close to death. She felt herself slip backwards, once again, and into nothingness. Hoping that when she woke she would still possess the emotion that now ran through her.

Wholeness.

I told you it would be short. I'm sorry.