The Runaway

Three: Split in Two.

"She's taken my heart,
But she doesn't know what she's done,"

—

1988.

Birmingham, England.

Laying nude with nothing but a silk sheet covering their modesty, no words were spoken. Brief kisses, light touches and Prince lovingly running his hands through his fiancée's hair was proving to be the norm after every show, no matter the time.

Their bodies molded together like one, despite the roundness and curve of her stomach. She was on top, he was underneath, and her eyelashes touched his chest every time she blinked.

They were comfortable being in each other's embrace, welcoming the cool breeze that blew through the room on occasion. "Your eyelashes tickle my skin, amore mio." Prince said with a squeeze of her hips. His voice was barely above a whisper. His eyebrows knitted in confusion when he felt something move under his hands on both sides.

His fiancée laughed quietly, changing her position on his body. "Well, excuse me. It's not my fault that my eyelashes are long!" She teased, slowly kissing his lips, then his shoulder.

His palms moved from her hips, to her tailbone, to the small of her back when she sat up. They both stared at each other with the realization that their relationship was different.

It was different in the sense that they'd never have a connection so deep and pure with another person. Their souls were connected in ways nobody else understood, and would remain that way, even when they met their creator above.

"A soul split in two"

Prince was growing more concerned with the knots that kept showing up out of nowhere, in places that only he could see and feel when he was looking or touching her from a certain angle. It was beginning to worry him. He pushed against them and he watched her look at him with a sleepy smile on her face.

It told him that she didn't know they were there.

They were hard and squishy. The size of a golf ball on the base of her hip bones. He moved them with both his thumb and pointer finger, where he discovered two more smaller ones hiding.

Her lips brushed against the crease of his neck and he felt her smile once again. "Never did I think I'd fall in love like this." She said in his ear, sighing when she felt the breeze hit her bare back. "Do you think we'll get married?" His fiancée asked sincerely as she felt herself being lifted off the bed and carried.

Prince's mind wandered to the same question when he started the shower for the second time that night. "Of course I do. I wouldn't of given you a ring." He replied, grabbing her hand so they could step under the water.

He knew walking had to hurt her.

His fiancée snickered and hit his arm. "Oh, you mean this toy ring?" Giggling, she showed him her hand, which proudly showcased the ring she was referring to. She loved it, but loved to tease him.

"Well, yes. I gave you that ring because I knew it wouldn't matter what ring I proposed with, as long as I was sincere in wanting you to be my wife. I knew that I could propose to you with no ring at all, but as long as I was genuine and truthful about wanting to spend forever with you, the answer wouldn't change."