The Girl from Ipanema | PRN

03. someone who loves my soul (como você)

The voicemail ended, and I blushed at the mention of my forgotten garment, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement coursing through me. His playful tone ignited a fire within, a reminder of the intensity we had shared.

My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the phone, the weight of the moment settling upon me. With a deep breath, I dialed Prince's number, the anticipation building with each passing ring. 

Finally, a voice answered on the other end, filled with warmth and familiarity. "Hello?" Prince's voice, soft and captivating, sent a thrill through my entire being.

"Prince, it's Joia," I replied, my voice laced with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. "I... I received your message."

 There was a brief pause, a pregnant silence that seemed to stretch for eternity. "I'm glad you called," he said, his voice laden with genuine enthusiasm. "I've been thinking about you ever since that night. Would you be open to meeting again?"

A surge of anticipation surged within me, my heart pounding in response to the invitation. "Yes," I whispered, the word a breathless affirmation. "I would love to see you again, Prince."

A smile danced upon my lips as Prince suggested a time and place for our rendezvous. We settled on meeting at a cozy café in the heart of Minneapolis, a spot that exuded a quiet charm, perfect for a private conversation away from prying eyes.

...

The days leading up to our meeting were a whirlwind of anticipation and preparation. I carefully selected my outfit, opting for a dress that exuded both elegance and confidence. My mind buzzed with thoughts of Prince—his charm, his talent, and the deep connection we had shared.

As the appointed day arrived, I found myself standing outside the café, my heart beating in time with the rhythmic pulse of the city. The door creaked open, and there he was, Prince, striding toward me with that trademark confidence, his eyes shining with anticipation.

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted me, his voice a melody that instantly put me at ease. He reached out and took my hand, his touch grounding me amidst the swirl of emotions. "Shall we?"

With a nod and a smile, I followed Prince into the café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the low hum of conversation enveloping us. We settled at a small table tucked away in a corner, granting us a sense of privacy amidst the bustling ambiance.

As we sipped our steaming cups of coffee, the conversation flowed effortlessly. We spoke of our hopes and dreams, our shared love for music, and the moments that had shaped us into the people we were. Prince's eyes sparkled with passion as he spoke, his words weaving a tapestry of his experiences, drawing me further into his world.

Hours seemed to slip away as we lost ourselves in conversation, the outside world fading into the background. The café became our sanctuary, a space where time held no sway, and our connection deepened with each passing moment.

With the passing of the evening, Prince and I made a silent agreement to step out into the night, continuing our conversation as we strolled through the moonlit streets. We walked hand in hand, our footsteps echoing in unison, as if mirroring the rhythm of our hearts.

Underneath the stars, Prince and I discovered a shared vulnerability, a willingness to expose our deepest fears and desires. We laughed and confided in each other, finding solace in the understanding that bloomed between us.

As the night wore on, we found ourselves back at his home and roaming his gardens, the scent of flowers mingling with the cool breeze. Prince's voice, soft yet resolute, broke the tranquil silence.