The Runaway

Nineteen: The Field of Flowers

"Can't you stay with me tonight?
Don't my kisses please you right?"

—

1988.

Toronto, Canada.

12:30pm.

It was a dreary day in Toronto filled with creativity for both Prince and his fiancée. While he created melodies on the piano and rehearsed for his show that was happening in less than 48 hours, paint bottles and canvases were situated on the ground in front of the jacuzzi.

French doors were separating the couple as tiny droplets of rain hit against the wood decking of their balcony every now and then. Prince could smell paint and his fiancée could hear the sound of him creating beautiful songs, almost picturing his fingers across the keys.

Happy and content. At peace for the first time in months.

The young woman, who had a hospital admission for pain management earlier in the day, was lounging in the hot tub while she painted a serene portrait of the Toronto Glacier and the mountains that lived behind it.

Dark grey mountains outlined in black with white snowcaps took up the majority of the blank canvas. In concentration, the one Prince called his wife began to paint what seemed like fog or mist in front of the mountains, replicating the scene surrounding her.

It was quiet. The only thing heard was the wind blowing and the piano several steps away. The crisp air helped open her lungs and kept her from struggling without the need for steroids.

Swirling her paintbrush in a cup of water beside the almost completed painting, Prince's fiancée began writing in cursive, directly in the middle of the canvas, a piece of a prayer she'd heard her lover whisper at the end of the bed.

"Strengthen my faith so I can keep trusting you as you continue to carry my burdens."

Licking her lips, the writing was outlined in white and was sprayed along with the rest of the painting, to keep it in tact.

It was dated and signed on the back.

10/5/1988.

"Al mio amante, ti amerò per sempre e per sempre."

At the same moment, Prince walked out onto the balcony and bent down to kiss his fiancée, concerned at how hazy her eyes looked.

Comfort care.

"Hi P," She said lovingly as she slowly got out of the hot water and walked inside, setting her canvas down. "You sound beautiful,"

Prince smiled and intertwined their fingers after his fiancée wrapped herself in a towel. "Thanks mama. I've always been quite envious of your painting skills though."

The woman shook her head and laughed, confused at the look on his face. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

"If you feel like it," Prince hesitated a little, dropping her hand once they made it into the bedroom, where he helped her step out of the wet bathing suit on her body. He admired her for a minute.