Everyone is born special. Although they may not realize how special they really are, each individual is different from every other individual—even twins. They may look exactly the same, but it's their hearts that set them apart. Each person is willing to make a difference because of what they can or cannot do. Their talents branch off from them. It's like evolution…you're born special, you grow, you find out your talents and skills, you nurture them, you finally do something in this world, for better or for worse. But some people on this earth have not figured out why they're here...that they're special…that they have talent…but these heroes are made, not born. And every individual always helps bring out the hero in others…
Paris, France
1911
"So, what do you want to do with your life now?" she asked, looking up at him.
Jack stopped walking and looked down at her. Claire met his eyes calmly and waved her hands in the air, as if trying to manifest Jack's future.
"Well?" she asked again. "I mean, you're already such an amazing artist! You don't have the greatest job in the world, but at least it pays…a bit…so what now?" she asked.
Jack grinned down at her. He hadn't really thought about it. After his parents' deaths, he had moved to England, where he met Claire. Claire was also an orphan, and she was on her own for a couple of months. Jack helped her get past her quietness, and as she opened up to Jack, she opened his eyes. She taught him how to live again, or according to her, to make it count. Claire took him horseback riding, on roller coasters, showed him his potential for making money with his art, and more importantly, he had a friend. Together, they had traveled all over Europe, and they currently resided in Paris, France. Together, they slept under the stars on benches, and they drank cheap beer. They'd get a hangover the next morning, but it was worth it to have such an amazing time with one another. Now, Jack wasn't sure what to do with his life—settle down in Paris or travel somewhere else? He had grown to love Claire as more than a friend.
In a lot of ways, they were similar. Besides their age, nineteen, their personality was almost exactly the same. They both shared that thrill for adventure and excitement. They were both great with people and loved children. There was that same light in their eyes. The light of that caring, whimsical persona. They both had an open mind and were always optimistic, and overall, they tried to make their lives count as much as possible. Jack and Claire were inseparable.
"I haven't really thought about it," Jack admitted.
Claire just nodded. She twirled a piece of her auburn hair on her finger, and she smiled at Jack.
"Think about it."
She grinned. She, too, felt things for Jack, romantic things. Claire hadn't exactly expressed those feelings to him yet, the two of them only being nineteen, but she just…loved him.
It’s now or never, Claire.
She sighed, and then forced a coy grin on her face. Claire took a step toward him and put a hand on his chest. She was shaking like a leaf, and she hoped Jack didn't notice.
"But I do sense me in your future," she whispered to him before walking off.
The blood finally rushed to her face, and Claire sighed exasperatedly. That was such a terrible first move. Jack was supposed to make the first love nudge! That was what they called them—love nudges. Jack and Claire had spent a lot of time watching people, so much that they could guess their conversations without having to hear them. Love nudges was when the people would tease each other seductively. Claire smiled at the memories. It was she who had gotten Jack to nurture his artistic talent, because she, too, was an artist. She was not terribly great, not as great as Jack, but she showed him her techniques. Claire was tired of waiting for Jack to make the first love nudge, so she took fate into her own hands. Now all she had to do was wait…wait to die. Wait to live. Wait for an absolution that would never come…or so she thought.
*****
On the way to their usual sleeping spot, Claire's heart was beating wildly. She had just love nudged Jack Dawson, and she was not really in the mood to confront him. The sky was painted a beautiful red color, and Claire loved it. On the way to their bridge and benches, Claire sighed and stopped to look up at the sky. It was so beautiful. The only reason Claire wasn't a great artist like Jack was because she did a different kind of art—painting. She painted, and if she had her supplies with her now, she would've sat on the grass and painted the sky right there and then.
*****
Jack Dawson looked up at the sky. After Claire had given him a love nudge, Jack had been too shocked to notice her run off. He knew she'd be waiting for him by their bridge, but now, she was probably too captivated by the sky. He knew she wanted to paint it. Jack sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. Claire was beautiful on the inside and out. She was so easy to talk to, and she listened to what you had to say without interrupting once. Being only nineteen and in love meant young love. And that usually didn't last too long, but Jack was still conflicted by his feelings for Claire. What was he feeling about her? Jack opened his eyes momentarily before closing them again, and an image of Claire ran through his mind. She was standing in a meadow filled with flowers. She was wearing a white dress which showed off her ruby lips, creamy complexion, and hazel eyes. The sun was shining perfectly on her skin, and she had a grin on her face. She had her hands outstretched to him, and warmth ran through his body. Jack smiled. He knew what he had to do.
*****
"Claire!" Jack called out her name, and she jumped.
"Jack!" She laughed.
Jack ran up to her and ran a hand through his blond hair. Claire couldn't pull herself away from his captivating blue eyes.
"Ya know…" Jack pulled Claire closer to him, smiling. He rested his hands on her lower back, and he pulled her so close, their lips were almost touching. Claire didn't know how to react. This was perfect. "You're right…I do sense you in my future…" Jack whispered, closing the space between them.