Princess ♠ Emmett Cullen

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It was a story I knew almost by heart, one that my abuela used to tell me, "only if you finish your dinner", one I'd never get sick of.

I heard it again and again, almost every night, and believed it.

I didn't grow up with Cinderella or Snow White as my princesses, I grew up with my abuela and mama as those sweet princesses, ones that were taken from their everyday life by their prince on white horse (or car, on some cases) to become the queen of their own life.

With roses and crown of diamonds, their picture decorated my mind in each dream. My abuela's stories fresh in mind each night, "your soul is in his hands for now, Alma, but don't waste your life waiting for him; he'll come around, princesita, just keep dancing."

And I did continue in that constant barefoot dancing, looking for de amor el mi vida, love of my life, singing to the dream of love.

I dreamed of him, and my mama and abuela finding their princes. They'd come glowing with lights, helping them to their feet, like every cliche, he'd be experienced, a thousand experiences and adventures to tell about, ones he'd only share with his most beloved.

He'd go to the moon for her, and get her treasures; just for her.

Everything just for her.

Anything.

So I waited.