Black Rose || The Outtakes

Black Rose || Outtake 40

Author's Note: Another Prince and Brenda chapter. Enjoy!

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September 1989 – Following Saturday Night Live: 15th Anniversary Special (New York)

BRENDA

I've never wanted a man so badly in my entire life. He wouldn't even change his outfit before I showed up to the hotel room. I'd closed the door behind me and just licked my lips. He walked around me, scoping my body up and down. Not once did I cower. There was only silence between us. His heels stopped behind me.

His open chest pushed up against my back. His surprisingly gentle fingers moved my curls away. Those dangerous lips parted for the back of my neck. The audible click of his tongue prompted chills down my spine. And not even seconds later, he chuckled quietly to himself.

Just when I planned on turning around, his arms embraced me from behind. One might think two people would ravage each other physicality, but not us. I somehow felt comforted by his delays with me. No clothes scattered the floor just yet.

The peck of his lips on my neck sounded in this front room. His breathing remained calming against my skin, but he turned me around until our noses touched. I couldn't help bringing myself closer to him. He brushed away my curls and smiled bashfully. Any sort of lust I felt previously drifted, but my steps wouldn't allow to escape his arms, leaving.

In this moment, he finally loved me. He kissed me so deeply, I just knew. All his pent-up emotions through years of my anxiety surfaced. Tonight, I allowed myself to love him back. My eyes nearly revealed tears, but I stopped myself in one way or another.

We each took turns running fingers through hair, giggling like children in between. But I found myself pushed up against the wall within seconds. He'd won. In between more kisses, he smiled at me once more. A subtle grin.

"Somebody missed me?" he teased. Space closed between us again, but he locked hands with me. I almost blushed and laughed.

"Don't click your tongue anymore. I've found that to be a new weakness." I cautioned jokingly. He cupped my face with both hands, pushing his front against my own. We somehow behaved at this moment, only kissing again. Another low chuckle escaped him during our affection.

"I love you." he whispered as usual.

I somehow couldn't answer back the same way. The dead silence between us returned, but Prince wouldn't stomp away from me out of frustration.

I woke up in his arms the next morning. I guessed that he already knew my feelings. Old behavior in his past just hurt me to no end. I couldn't him and myself this time. Still, he turned over in bed and hovered above me, leaning in for a kiss. Both of his arms rest on each side of me.

A tried but happy grin reached my face. Our clothes scattered at the foot of this bed. He caressed my face as if I were the most beautiful woman. Not one of his many. I'd never know if his behavior would change, even if years passed by.

But for now, he belonged to me and no one else. Only his kisses sounded at five or so in the morning. I never wanted to leave this bed if he treated me like this. Our encounters almost resembled dreams. One day he'd be mine and the next this man would trade me in for another inspiration.

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New Jersey

Prince traveled back to Minnesota a few hours later. I found myself alone as usual, but my answering machine beeped red-hot for whatever reason. Expecting family, I cleared my throat and smile from cheek to cheek. Cranberry juice perched on the table across from my couch.

"You have three new messages." The automated voice declared. "First new message." The beep sounded before long.

"Hey, it's me." Michael whispered. "I miss you. Call me sometime, alright? It's been a while." I didn't know whether to roll my eyes or not. He'd hung up and another beep echoed.

"Babe? Are you ignoring me or something? What's wrong? I know that things aren't exactly great between us, but you can talk to me about anything. Call me back. Please?" Michael shrunk his voice in one way or another. I wouldn't budge given all the pain he'd put through. Trying again with him had been useless for my heart.

I honestly rolled my eyes, dreading the voice of my ex-soulmate. Cranberry tart slid down my throat as I listed to the final message. "Please call me back. You have no idea how much I miss you, girl. Honestly. Is there someone else? I'll do anything."

I shut off the answering machine and called some other famous friends. Our conversations blurred until I decided otherwise. Dodging Michael wouldn't cure anything. I set away much pride and dialed his number. Dead silence captured my living room other than the sound of ringing in my ear.

"Hello?" he answered weakly.

"Michael?" I responded.

"Hey," he sniffled back. "How are you doing, girl?"

"All right." I shrugged. "Listen. I got your messages."

"I really do miss you, girl." Michael repeated himself.

I couldn't wait to roll my eyes again, but the tremble of his voice stopped me. I honestly felt awful now. Part of me just couldn't bear dealing with heartache a second time. Part of me couldn't handle this pain within him.

I blamed myself for once.