The Dance

*22*

The concerts were almost back to back. There was a ping pong table backstage, and Prince was slaying all comers between concerts, though Emma gave him a run for his money. It was obvious the energy he gained from performing was huge, and he had to burn it off somehow.

The girls sat in the audience for the first show, and on the side stage sofa with Emma for the second. Even though it wasn't Mya's style of music, both girls were impressed with the level of musicianship and showmanship the shows delivered. They laughed out loud when Prince ran backstage between sets for a bottle of water and a kiss, and he smirked at them, obviously feeling very pleased with himself.

The second concert was finished at 1:30 a.m., and they were back at the hotel by 2 a.m. Prince and the girls in the band were still full of energy, so everyone came back to his and Emma's suite for pancakes. It felt like the first night of her time with Prince to Emma, listening to laughter, watching people enjoy each other's company.

Prince moved to the piano, and started asking for requests. Mya got up and started lighting candles, and turning down lights. Emma was afraid she would fall asleep in the darkened room, but the sound of Prince's piano playing was too intoxicating for her to nod off. As the requests kept coming, they got more and more romantic, and Emma found herself swaying in time while watching Prince play, reminding herself again that this was real, that she was actually this blessed. The candlelight glowed through his dark, curly hair, reminding Emma of a halo. He looked almost ethereally handsome, and once again she couldn't believe he was really interested in her.

Prince kept his eyes on Emma while he played. He reveled in the fact that she responded so fully to his music, even when exhausted, as she was now. She was so beautiful to him, especially tonight in the semi-darkness. It seemed like her face glowed as brightly as the candles.  Even though they weren't alone, he could feel her presence as if she were right next to him. Her heart continued to speak to his, even across a room.

Prince played through all the requests, though he didn't sing any of them. Emma assumed he was just vocally tired. After all the requests were performed, he segued into one of Emma's personal favorites, 'A Case of You', a song he hadn't written, but one he'd become identified with through many concerts. It was the final song from the piano set he had played while looking into her eyes their third night together, and she dove into the memory, even as she locked eyes with him once again. 'I'm a lonely painter...I live in a box of paints', he began, and sang through the whole song.

When the song was over, he stood up and walked over to her, never breaking their gaze. Emma began to stand up, but he motioned her back down with a very serious look on his face.

'I've been a lonely painter most of my life, waiting for the soul that would touch mine. I thought a couple of times I had found that soul, but was disappointed. Then God put you right before my eyes, finally answering my prayer, as if to say, 'You've waited long enough, here she is.' Ever since that evening, my faith is stronger, my soul is calmer, my mind is spinning with new ideas, and my heart is no longer my own.'

The room was eerily silent. Everyone was looking from Prince to Emma. Emma realized she was forgetting to breathe, and took a shaky, shallow breath as Prince continued.

'Emma, knowing you has been the most joyful journey of my life so far. Despite my efforts to close off parts of myself from you, you have become part of every moment of my day and night, and I'm more thankful than you'll ever know.'

Prince knelt down in front of Emma. She audibly gasped, and put a hand to her mouth.

'Emma Cartwright Leal, I love you with all my heart. Will you do me the immense honor of consenting to be my wife?'