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chapter 47 - 1963

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CECE PRESLEY

The premiere of Elvis' new movie, It Happened at the World's Fair, was going to take place tomorrow, however he scheduled a private screening just for the two of us. Tonight. I didn't come back home after I stormed out that night. Mama called, begging me to come back and even Tilly chimed in, saying that the house was empty without me there. Elvis didn't bother calling. Or asking about me. 

I was mad, frustrated and so incredibly tired.

How dare he hide something like that from me? His wife.

I was deeply disappointed, yet I couldn't hide my concern. What if he broke down on me? Was I able to pick up the pieces and glue them back together?

"Miss Bennett?"

I looked up and smiled a little. "Is the car here?"

The man gave me a curt nod, his narrow eyes inspecting me in a scrutinizing manner. I was wearing a fancy blonde wig and big sunglasses — an impeccable disguise, in my opinion. Before he could say anything, I thanked him and grabbed my purse, making my way out. 

"Miss Cheryl Bennett," Lamar opened the door for me, a subtle smirk on his lips.

I didn't react at his teasing tone and sat down without even sparing him a glance. "Thank you."

"Where'd you get Cheryl Bennett from?" Gene was at the wheel, looking at me through the rearview mirror. I grabbed the seatbelt and tugged it across my body.

"My manager used that name on me. To remain incognito or something," I said and snatched the sunglasses from my nose. Lamar got in the front seat and shut the door behind him.

"It suits ya. This character, I mean. The blonde, mysterious woman that doesn't wanna be seen. Does that work in any way?"

I sighed, moving my eyes outside the window. "Well, I stayed in that hotel for two days and didn't get mobbed. Not even once. You tell me." The city was buzzing with neon lights, as alive as ever. A ghost of a smile found my lips.

"Well, I'm happy you're back, because EP has been a real pain in the ass these past two days," Gene laughed dryly.

"Nearly fired half of us," Lamar muttered under his breath. I halted, turning his way.

"What? Why?"

Lamar clicked his tongue. "There is no tellin' what he's gonna do when he's angry. You just gotta brace yourself."

I shook my head. "It's his own damn fault. I done told him that he can talk to me about anything. I don't even know what to say anymore, because it all seems in vain."

"He's a man, Cece—"

"He's my husband," I pressed. "I don't care about him being embarrassed about what his buddies are gonna say— If something happens to him, it all falls on me, not on any of you." The car remained silent, but I felt my beating heart pumping in my ears. 

A heavy breath broke the silence. "He doesn't want ya to worry."

I bit my lower lip, feeling my eyes water in distress, but I didn't utter a single word until the end of the ride. My strength felt diminished, I didn't have it in me to fight with people about the man that was my husband. They would always defend him as his friends, nobody was going to peek at the logical side of it.

The car stopped and Lamar walked out, ready to open the door for me. I breathed in and out through my nose, mentally preparing myself for a difficult night — I knew we were going to fight. I just knew. It was like the humidity in the air before it starts raining— I just sensed it.

"Thank you, Lamar."

He nodded shortly. "EP drove himself here. If you need anything else don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you." My lips twitched into what I hoped resembled a smile. He walked me to the front door and informed me about the gentleman that was going to take over and steer me towards the screening room.

I smiled, shook his hand and signed an autograph. "Do you want me to sign this as Cheryl or as Cece?" 

The man chuckled. "Both, ma'am. That's gonna make a good story to tell my children." I signed, feeling at ease, even just for a fleeting moment. I wasn't Cece Flora, the singer or Cece Presley, Elvis' wife. I was just a woman in a wig and that was good enough.

"Mr Presley has requested for two types of popcorn— salted caramel and butter. Pepsis, chocolates and hamburgers," the man squinted at the list in his hands. "Anything you'd like to add, ma'am?"

"I think he's got it all," I laughed a little. "Maybe some water to balance it all out. Thank you."

The last time I had been at the Memphian was in 1954 as we watched A Star Is Born. Almost ten years ago. The same popcorn machine was there, the lights, the velvety walls. Everything was the same, except for the thunderous silence— Elvis had rented out the whole thing for the night. I shuffled on my feet, the reminders of that night still able to crawl under my skin. Just like that night in the 50s, I was pissed at Elvis.

A sigh fell from my lips as I pushed the velvety door open. The big screen illuminated the whole room with short, quick scenes, I assumed those were previews of the upcoming movies. I saw him sprawled in his velvet seat, in the exact position he liked it, centered. His head turned.

"Hey," a careful smile stretched across Elvis' face. "You made it— And you're blonde." He stood up, making his way towards me.

I chuckled faintly, brushing my fake curls. "Yeah, I needed to blend in for a moment." Elvis looked me up and down, not bothering to disguise the burning fire in his eyes in any way. I cleared my throat, unsure of what to do. "So my seat?" I asked instead, my eyes averting from his. Elvis turned around and showed the way.

He sat down and I followed suit, shrugging the coat from my shoulders. Blue eyes followed my every movement.

"You look beautiful."

I turned to my left and quietly sighed. "Thank you."

Elvis breathed out, his hand tapping nervously on his knee. "Can we... Can we pretend that it's just us? Just for tonight?"

"What do you mean?"

He cleared his throat, his gaze shifting on my seat. "I mean, like everything is okay. Like I haven't fucked up. Again."

My eyes stayed on him, lingering on the wavering emotion in his eyes. There was something terribly broken behind them, something I was afraid even I couldn't fix. Dark bags were hardly concealed under the soft glow of the screen, a result of sleepless nights. I knew he was sorry, I knew he was ready to beg on his hands and knees— I knew that. But when was he ever going to put a halt to his impulsivity?

"Okay," I gave in, my voice a faint hush between us.

Elvis let out a shaky breath, like he wasn't expecting that. "Can I... Can I kiss you?" I nodded, without even letting him pronounce the end of the word, and he leaned in as he usually did, softly and carefully. His lips touched mine and my eyes fluttered shut. He was sweet, salty and absolutely maddening. But god, did I love that man, as flawed as he was.

"Thank you," he murmured, our lips inches apart as we shared our last breath together. "I can't wait for you to see the movie." His lips stretched into a minuscule smile, one I would've almost missed if I hadn't followed his every move. We pulled away, but his hand fluttered to mine in the middle, gripping it like it'd be the last time. 

Elvis raised his hand as he flickered his wrist and the screen darkened within seconds. Then he leaned in closer to me, his lips murmuring to my ear. "Get ready to listen to one of the worst soundtracks of your life."

I let out a chuckle, glancing his way. "C'mon, E, it can't be that bad."

His brows raised to his forehead. "Oh, it can. You'll see darlin'." We both leaned back in our seats and the movie started only seconds later. Chuckles were shared, burgers, popcorn, Pepsis, remarks. "See that kid? He gave me a bruise that stayed there for weeks." It almost felt like an improved version of that night in 1954. 

I hadn't felt that light in a long time.

The movie ended and I couldn't help but ask to watch it again. And we did, again and again, until I had his lines memorized and the moon was shining bright in the sky. The burgers kept coming, the drinks were limitless and our hands had a hard time staying at bay. But it was all just for tonight— just for tonight the mistakes, the deadlines, the pills, the lies were going to be forgotten. Just tonight.

I was sat across his lap, my mouth pressed hungrily against his. Messy sounds left our lips, sounding almost obscene. My hands found his hair before I could even think, the strands longer than they had been the last time I had seen him, and his were firmly gripping my hips. The movie kept playing, the songs passed by and the desire for each other couldn't be satiated. The kiss deepened in ways neither of us could've explained— it was messy, almost sloppy, but desperate.

"I need you," Elvis muttered against my lips. I let out a low gasp, tapping my forehead to his. Our breaths touched each other, falling in synch, my hands on his flushed cheeks, like I was stabilizing myself.

"N-Not here..." I breathed out, glancing past his shoulder.

"No one's here, baby, I promise. I sent everyone away— I want you, baby. I need you."

He looked me deep in the eye, the flame was still burning as bright as ever, but the defeated look I had seen before was gone. Just for tonight— Just for tonight. I leaned into his touch, my lips swallowing his obscene, lustful moans.

A permanent flush stained my cheeks. My head sank in his chest and my hand rested right there, shuffling between each hair. Elvis' hand pushed his shirt to cover my upper body, his warm breath hitting my face in comforting motion. A different movie was playing— King Creole. The last movie we had done together before we departed to Germany. The movie that marked the end and the start of an era.

"Look at that lip—" a lone finger pointed at the screen as a deep laugh tumbled from his chest. "Lovesick fool."

"Oh, he was cute. With his floppy hair and curled lip," I commented with a cheeky smile. "You were just my boyfriend back then. Crazy how life goes."

Elvis glanced at me. "I had that ring ready, believe me, baby."

Comfortable silence fell over us, too good to be broken by either of us. His warm body stayed on mine as we were still in critical and shocking conditions. I just hoped that he was right and that nobody was actually watching us.

"Are you coming home later? Back to Graceland?" he asked, his voice a rough buzz against my temple. I sighed, unsure of what to say.

"I don't know, E..." I shuffled closer, tilting my head to meet his eyes. "It doesn't feel right after what what's happened. The argument, me storming off and you not even sparing me a call. And then— then this," I gave a subtle nudge to my half-naked body. "We're circling the issue. I don't like it."

"I'm just asking you to come home... Just for tonight."

"But what about tomorrow? Or the day after? Do we skirt around the issue? Ignore it forever? You know I won't be quiet about this, Elvis."

"Oh, I know you can't be quiet," he remarked smartly. I glared at him, fed up with the lovey-dovey part of the night. "You're right, I'm sorry. It's just— I-I don't even know where to start."

I inched away from him. "How about if you lied to me when Bill asked you if you were still taking the pills."

"Cece—" he groaned, but I interrupted him, taking his chin in between my fingers.

"Elvis. No lies, please."

"Yes, it's true. Uppers and downers. They offered them to all soldiers in the army, to stay awake. And..." he hesitated, looking away. "I liked it. I thought they were brilliant, and given the crazy Colonel-schedules, I thought they were perfect."

"Colonel-schedule?" I raised an eyebrow in question.

Another heavy breath. "He'd have me on set during the day and record the soundtracks whenever was convenient... I needed something. Otherwise... my body would've given up."

My lips parted, but I didn't know what to say. I pictured him in my head, tired and stubborn, exhausted from the day but too stubborn to give up on doing what he was supposed to. What was expected of him.

"I didn't wanna tell ya, because I didn't want ya to think less of me. Like I couldn't take care of myself. I ain't no little baby that needs somebody to watch me," another tired sigh. "And you had this amazing opportunity to tour— do the thing that you've loved the most. I couldn't let ya stay with me, it would've been selfish of me. But goddamn, was I jealous," his words turned into a low hiss. "There was nothing I wanted to do more than to be on that stage with you. Get out of the stupid movie contracts and join you... Like we did in Hawaii, that was good fun."

"Oh, E..." I raised my hand to brush his hair from his forehead. "I know you don't wanna hear this, but by the end of the tour I will have made enough to get you out of there. Officially. Forever."

His glossy eyes turned to look in mine, taking my breath away. "R-Really?"

I hummed, tracing his cheekbones with my knuckles. "Yes. I'll get you out. But you need to promise me, Elvis. For real now—" Elvis grabbed my hand and pressed it to his lips, pecking it repeatedly.

"The moment I get home I'm tossing that shit down the toilet. Swear it."

I let out a shaky breath. "I'm staying here next week too a-and I'll make sure you're okay, because—" I drew in a breath. "I don't want to wake up to a phone call telling me that my husband's dead. I don't want that. Please. I love you too much—" my words muffled into soft cries and Elvis cooed, pushing me to his chest again.

"You won't, I swear, you won't, baby. I'm right there, forever and always."

I breathed in his scent, musky with a touch of smoke, familiar. I let my eyes fall shut, listening closely to the rhythmic sound of his heart— he was okay, he was fine. It was all going to be alright. That was the mantra that played in my head, one that brought me peace with no fail, although I always ended up feeling like the fool of the story.

After my hands shakily buttoned up my blouse and both Elvis and I looked somewhat decent, we left the theatre with our hearts full. My eyes were on Elvis from time to time, taking in his easy, relaxed demeanor. His right hand found the gear stick, his left hung from the window. A smile settled on his lips, not controlled by anything other than the thrill still pumping in his veins.

A careful grin stretched across my face, feeling at ease at last.

"I have the rest of my clothes at the hotel," I said. He briefly glanced my way.

"We'll get one of the guys there first thing in the morning."

I looked at my watch and let out a laugh. "It's six a.m. We've been out for like, half a day."

Elvis smiled. "Worth it."

The day didn't end when my head hit the pillow. More moans being swallowed up by bruised up lips, hands tangled in real strands of hair and eyes rolling back from never-ending pleasure. Clothes were tossed across pieces of furniture we forgot were there— Elvis threw my bra in the air and it accidentally caught the lamp in the ceiling. Even my blonde wig was thrown somewhere. All in a careless, freeing way.

A breathy sigh fell from my lips as Elvis leaned into my neck, muttering sweet little things as he kissed his way to my jaw. He was forgiven, all was forgotten. Once he was done with his delicious, wet, torturous, lustful act, Elvis insisted on showing me the way he tossed all the pills down the toilet, even though from the state I was in, he didn't really have to.

If he had told he that he could fly, I would've believed his every word.

That week passed and another approached. Jerry mentioned Elvis' new project to me, Viva Las Vegas. I wasn't convinced.

"The director himself sent a letter. You'd be getting $20,000 to work on the soundtrack either by yourself or with Elvis and he's also hoping you'd take in his offer for a small role in the movie." Jerry pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow. "It's not a bad deal, although that leaves you two weeks to work on the soundtrack. Then you're back on tour all throughout the fall until Christmas."

I huffed, leaning back on the chair. "I don't know, Jerry. The production rejected most of my songs since before Elvis was drafted. It feels childish to give in now."

Jerry tapped his hand on the desk. "That's because everyone's suddenly realizing how unmissable a Cece Flora track could be in their movie. Money is no object anymore. They're throwing it at you, blindly."

"Still," I crossed my arms on my chest. "They crushed my writing spirit and now that they've realized that I'm worth something, they want me?"

"The production has always wanted you, Cece," a small smirk started growing on Jerry's lips. "The Colonel was the one that never wanted you part of it, because you would've been too much to pay for. Actors, singers and songwriters are paid differently, remember?"

I hummed.

"He had been taking 50% of both of your incomes and since you were paid less than Elvis as an actor, he couldn't take anything from you. There is a specific percentage that can't be crossed when it comes to one's salary— and yours was too low for his liking. No offense."

"None taken," I shrugged. 

"So that meant crossing your songs, getting other musicians to sell them for ridiculous prices and give them to you and Elvis. And right there, you as the singer, you were paid more, and he took financial advantage of that." Jerry leaned back, nodding.

"Wow," I sighed. "Call me ignorant, but nobody told us anything about that."

"Who was your business manager again?" His forehead furrowed as his hand disappeared in his front pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"Vernon, Elvis' father," I shook my head, lowering my eyes to the desk. "I'm glad that at least I was able to get away from that snake."

"We'll get Elvis out of there, don't you worry about that." A flicker appeared and his cigarette was lit. "So? Is the writing team back again or do you prefer a subtle, relaxing vacation?"

I smirked. "I feel like you're rooting for something specific, Jerry."

He laughed breathily. "I believe that I mentioned on our first encounter that I was a huge fan. I'd be definitely thrilled, let's put it that way."

"Elvis said you asked for his autograph."

Jerry's eyes widened, a flush spreading across his face. "I was nervous, okay? That was the first time we were in a room together. Alone. You know how intimidating he can be?"

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "My Elvis? No. It's a facade to make him seem broody or whatever game you men are into," I rolled my eyes. "He's a teddy bear, really." My chuckled faded into an easy smile, and I gave in. "Okay, tell the director I'm in for the soundtrack, but no role."

Jerry laughed in triumph. "Perfect. Oh, no role? Why?" He stood up, gathering his papers into his leather brown briefcase.

I stood up as well, smoothing my blouse. "I was never interested in the acting. I only did it because it made Elvis happy. And because the Colonel incentivized it by saying that it was the next natural step. Hollywood." I looked up at him. "I couldn't care less about movies that depict me as a little housewife or a damsel in distress. I believe that was what incidentally created the boring, never-ending circle of me having to be saved by my husband."

"Which you never needed," Jerry added with a firm nod.

"Yeah, but if you see it thrusted onto you often enough on a big screen, you start believing it."

Jerry's jaw clenched. "They wasted your potential, Cece. Don't make this about you failing anything. They were the ones to have failed you." He snatched his bag shut.

A breath left my lips, grateful for his heartwarming words. "You always seem to know what to say. I appreciate it." I walked around the desk and opened the door. "Thanks for coming by, Jerry. You sure you don't want to stay for dinner?"

Jerry's lips parted to say something, but he stalled, like something was preventing him from speaking. Or someone, more like. 

"Hey guys!" Matilda smiled brightly, looking between me and Jerry. "Good lord, a briefcase!" her gaze moved to Jerry. "Is she torturing you about business on a Sunday night too? Cece, you're incorrigible."

I laughed, totally missing the way Jerry's face turned a pale pink.

"I did ask him to stay for dinner as a compensation." I crossed my arms on my chest, a playful smile on my lips.

Tilly's eyes lit up, moving on Jerry. "So? Mary and 'Dora are cooking something together. Don't quite know what it is yet, but it smells incredible! You staying?"

Jerry's face flushed impossibly red. "U-Uh, yeah, s-sure, why n-not?" he let out a weak laugh, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, I-I can stay."

Matilda clapped her hands excitedly. "Perfect! I'll let them know we have a special guest tonight." And she waltzed down the stairs, humming a tune I hadn't heard before. An easy smile spread across my lips, then my gaze moved on Jerry.

"Jerry?" He looked at me, dazed. "You okay?"

He hummed, nodding. "Yeah, all good."

I shrugged, patting him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's head downstairs and introduce you to some people. Dodger still thinks you're my personal butler."

index chapter 48

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chapter 46 - 1963

previous part

CECE PRESLEY

"I need another guitar on this—" I said to the guys, my eyes flickering to the smoke-filled room. It was as nauseating as it sounded, but it brought an odd comfort to the recording sessions. Bill said it added some flair to our music.

DJ laughed, leaning back on his chair, a lone cigarette dangling from his lips. "I don't know how to play, boss. It's a miracle I know a melody from a screech," he muttered with a playful smile.

Bill nodded, a laugh tumbling from his mouth. "That is true. This man had to retake music at school. Music."

I rolled my eyes at their playful banter and grabbed my guitar from the corner of the room. "Don't worry I got it covered."

"She can perform and play. Now, that's class."

Before I could add something to that remark, the door busted open, and I didn't even have to look to know who it was. My eyes flickered on my leather watch and a low breath escaped my lips.

"Late every day this week," Bill noted, his head shaking. "And I thought I was the one that didn't hear the damn rooster." Scotty huffed, an apologetic look crossing his face.

"I'm so sorry, Cece—"

I flicked my wrist with nonchalance and adjusted the guitar strap on my body. "Make it up to me by taking that guitar and playing the hell out of it. Lord knows we need it after last night's fiasco."

DJ coughed, shifting in discomfort in his chair. "Boss is right. Last night was a damn shame."

"Last night happened once," I pressed, leaning my foot on the stool, the leather creaking under the pressure. My eyes shifted on every single man in the room. "And it will never happen again. I won't tolerate any strung-out musician on that stage."

Scotty sighed, eyes bowed low. "Again, I'm so—"

"What the hell were you thinking?" I interrupted him, brows scrunched in frustration. "Mumbling incoherently? Wandering on that stage like you didn't give a damn?" my voice shook with emotion. Bewildered eyes scanned each man yet again, but none of them were brave enough to face me.

"There are children in the audience," I pulled my foot off the stool and stumbled to the table in the far back of the room, grasping the newspaper. "Nobody goes to a concert to listen to a singer that can't catch up with a guitarist. Because that's what it looked like and that's what the papers are saying." The paper flew over to Scotty, and he caught it with trembling hands.

"From now on, if anybody feels like this is too much at any given time, you are very much free to say so. You won't get replaced, I promise you," a tired breath fell from my lips. "I wouldn't step on that stage either if I didn't feel a hundred percent there. We all depend on one another, please let's not forget that." I nodded to myself, my words an echo lingering against the walls.

"I'm gonna go for a smoke and we can resume." I grabbed my fur coat and walked out of the rehearsal, the sound of my heeled boots clicking behind me. 

ELVIS PRESLEY

SEPTEMBER 1963 on the set of "Viva Las Vegas"

Smoke fogged up the room, fluttering slowly from the men's expensive cigars. I held my breath for a moment and leaned back in my chair, my gaze lifting to meet Mr Webb's.

"I took it upon myself to contact Miss Cece Flora," he mumbled, his voice rough. His fingers pinched the cigar, setting it away as he licked his lips with faux intent. "I can't stand another flop movies and I'm sure neither can you."

The Colonel remained impassive in the chair beside mine. But my heart thumped at his words, for they stung more than I had expected them to. Mr Webb was right— except for Love Me Tender, King Creole and Blue Hawaii, no movie exceeded in critical expectations. Not a single one.

"Mrs Presley is on tour," the Colonel made out before coughing loudly. "All contracts that have tied Mrs Presley to us are officially cut. That woman is no longer welcome in this circle of events."

My lips parted before I abruptly turned to face him. "That's my wife, Colonel. Let's not forget that." The man ignored me, his eyes rolling in irritation.

"A wife that turns her back to her husband is—"

I interrupted him immediately. "I dare you to continue, Colonel," I warned him and leaned closer to him. "One more word and I'm outta here." My words got him to keep his mouth shut, his fat fingers bringing the cigar to his lips.

The Colonel cleared his throat. "Mr Webb, you were saying?"

The man on the other side of the desk adjusted the glasses on the tip of his nose, his hands then folding on the desk, a pensive look on his face.

"I asked Mrs Presley to collaborate on the soundtrack. Nothing more. Although I wouldn't object to a small appearance in my movie." His eyes turned to look at me. "I have passed the word onto her manager, Mr Schilling, but I can't lie and say that I don't rely on you to convince her, Mr Presley."

I blinked, my gaze lowering for a moment. "She's coming home next week and staying for the following two." Mr Webb clapped his hands in delight.

"Perfect! She can start writing now and record the songs later. Oh, the production is going to be delighted—"

"I didn't say yes for her, Mr Webb," I cut him off, my brows scrunched in slight irritation. "I'm gonna ask Cece tonight and I'll let you know by tomorrow morning. But I wouldn't get my hopes up. Touring, traveling, performing is exhausting, so I wouldn't be surprised if she said no."

Silence.

"Very well," the man released a sigh. "But let me tell ya— the both of you," his tone raised, a wobbly finger pointed at me and the Colonel. "If this Presley picture fails— I'm out. I can't stand another bad review. My reputation has been ruined enough just because of your impossible demands, Colonel," his eyes narrowed dangerously. "That means we do everything on my command— this won't be a quick, lazy two-month-long shoot."

The Colonel waved his hand lazily. "You do what you need to do."

"I won't let this flop, and I hope that the both of you will give your best to not make that happen."

I nodded, my clammy hands twisting the ring around my finger. "Yes, sir."

It was almost six in the evening, the sun had its last show before it disappeared behind the bright green hills. The sky looked on fire, a mix of orange, red and yellow flames. Absolutely breathtaking. But not quite as stunning as my wife stepping out of the little car I bought her.

"Hello my love," she called without even looking at me. One heel hit the ground and then the other, her eyes looked at me over her shoulder, a flirty grin on her lips.

I walked up to her, feeling the energy pumping in my veins, jittering my whole body. That was what she did to me— she lit me up. "My darlin'," I wrapped my arms around her waist, my hand slowly trailing up to her hair, until I felt the softness of it. I breathed in, her flowery perfume invading every inch of me. God, I missed her.

"You were gone too long," I mumbled in her neck and pressed a kiss there. "I missed you." I felt her smile against my shoulder.

"You're the busy Hollywood actor, not me." Cece pulled away, her red lips forming a bright smile, but the look in her eyes was more truthful. I saw the fatigue, the pain, the exhaustion, but I bet if I asked her she'd say it was all worth it.

"C'mon in, everyone's waiting on you." My arm curled around her waist and it stayed there throughout the night. Tilly waltzed from her bedroom, Pandora from the backyard and Grandma waited in the living room, sitting in her designated chair.

"She's skinnier than she was before," Grandma noticed, raising her walking stick to poke Cece's thighs and stomach. My wife laughed and I shook my head in disbelief.

"How about, "how have you been, Cece? All good in Florida?"" I playfully arched a brow at my Grandma. She nodded absentmindedly, eyes still inspecting my wife.

"Yeah, yeah. You've been well, child?"

Cece let out a chuckle. "I'm perfectly fine, Grandma. How is everyone?"

'Dora took a seat beside her daughter, updating her on the newest plants in the Graceland garden. She moved her hands a lot as she talked, the spark in her eyes bright and evident. My lips twitched, proud of 'Dora's journey to happiness. It was difficult seeing her low, but looking at her now, glowy and happy, I'd almost say it was worth it.

Mary walked in, a smile on her face. "Cece, it's great having you back." My wife smiled at the cook and they chatted for a little while. My hand moved to Cece's thigh, squeezing it like a testament that she was there. She was real and back with me.

"I was wondering if you'd like dinner to be sent up to your room?" Mary glanced between me and Cece. My head twisted, only to find her already looking at me.

"I wouldn't mind eating on a mattress," she remarked playfully, earning faint laughter from our family. 

I nodded at Mary. "Room service it is." She turned around and left. "I wonder what's on the menu tonight," I wondered out loud, pulling my hand off her body and stood up.

"She did mention pie this morning," 'Dora chipped in. "Maybe that's it." Cece jumped up on her feet, an excited smile tugging at her lips.

"Sold, let's go," she snatched my hand in hers and pulled me away, Tilly laughed in the background, but I couldn't focus on anything other than the tingle her hand sent to mine. We skipped over two stairs, she even boldly jumped across three and nudged me to do the same. I shook my head, complaining about my knee's mobility.

I pushed open our bedroom door, the dark furniture easy on my eyes, and immediately set my hands on her hips, leading her straight to our bed.

"We gotta use this time wisely," I muttered, turning Cece around and kissed her. "We gotta be quick, Mary will be up with dinner in no time." She smiled in between our kisses.

"Mhm, I think I can do quick," she breathed out, meeting my eyes briefly.

"Yeah?" she nodded as her lips wandered down to my neck, smoothly sliding like butter on a hot pan.

My lips parted. "Lord have mercy." I shut my eyes, letting her move me to sit on the bed. "You do whatever you want, baby."

She hummed against my neck, her lips dangerously close to my chest, bruising kisses on the spot my shirt didn't cover. "Mhm, I want you on the bed and your shirt off."

"Oh, I can do that," I smirked, but before she could part from me, my hand moved behind her head, tugging her to clash her lips onto mine. She moaned and I allowed myself to tighten the grip on her hair, tugging it sharply. "But baby—" I pulled away with a breath. "You're the one that's gonna work this shirt off of me." I moved to lay against the headboard, watching her seductively crawl to me, until she finally settled on my lap. 

My eyes took in every inch of her and I almost groaned at the sight of her sitting pretty in my lap. She was wearing jeans and a blouse— not an inch of her skin was exposed, yet she did a number on me anyways. My hands trailed to her hips, squeezing them possessively. Cece's hands didn't waste any time and started unbuttoning my shirt, but I pulled her in again, savoring the taste of her lips.

"If you keep kissing me we won't have time for anything else, E," she mumbled against my lips, but I remained quiet, tugging her impossibly closer to my body. Her lower body was flush on mine, the space between us almost nonexistent. "Alright—" she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to my cheek, trailing to my jaw as her hands kept working on my shirt. "There you go, now—"

A knock made her flinch, her face twisting toward the door. "Fuck..."

"Cecilia Flora Presley," I said her name lowly, my hands squeezing her flesh. "Been away for months and suddenly starts cussin' like a sailor'."

She rolled her eyes and slowly stood up, the lack of her making me groan. "Cover yourself up. I don't wanna traumatize poor Mary." I smirked and slipped the button in the middle. Cece stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

"Fine— Actually, you know what?" I sat up slowly, unbuttoning the shirt again and tossing it on the floor. "Toss me the robe, darlin'," Cece snatched the heavy robe and threw it at me. "I'll go to the bathroom and undress, so you don't struggle with buttons and stuff, hmm?" I took menacing steps towards her, purposely slow, and once I was standing in front of her, I squished her cheeks together, staring at her flushed face.

Cece raised her hands to my hair and pulled my lips to hers. "Is that a promise?"

Lord have mercy.

I kissed her again. "Yes, now go, get our food." I slapped her ass and walked away, shutting the bathroom door behind me. I worked on my belt, its buckle was heavily adorned by diamonds and gold, and hung it on the hook by the wall. My underwear, my dress pants and my socks came off next. I grabbed the blue robe and tied it around my waist, almost missing my face in the mirror. My eyes were slightly brighter, lighter, in every sense of the word. I let a grin invade my face, before I walked out of the bathroom.

But Cece was sitting on the bed, her head bowed low, and no tray of food in sight.

"Cece?"

"You promised."

I froze. Her words cut deep, merciless and cold. Then her hand raised a pill bottle, shaking it for good measure.

Fuck.

"I-It's not what it looks like, I-I promise," I walked up to her, shaky words falling from my lips in forms of faux apologies. She scoffed and stood up, only now making me notice her tear-streaked face.

"This is exactly what it looks like!" she smashed the bottle on the floor, shards of glass and colorful little pills spilling everywhere. "You promised you weren't taking this shit anymore! You promised."

I barely flinched, hesitantly approaching her. "Cece—"

"No!" her voice raised with emotion. "I'm gonna have my outburst and then you're gonna explain yourself, Elvis. Because I won't stand you killing yourself as I'm on the other side of the country. I won't tolerate this!"

My foot twitched and my jaw locked in anger. "I ain't gonna explain anything to you. I done told you that all of this is nothing. I told you a hundred times that I need something to keep me going during the day— That's it! That's all it is!"

Cece huffed, her angry eyes averting for a moment. "That's it? That's it? What the hell! This is not normal, Elvis," her foot nudged the sparse pills on the floor. "How the hell did you function before I went on tour, huh? Or did you hide that at the time too?"

I palmed my face in frustration. "Goddamn it, Cece, why do you have to be so complicated—"

She cut me off. "I'm looking out for you! I don't wanna wake up to a dead husband!"

"Then you should've thought twice before you left me!"

My chest heaved up and down, my breaths shallow, sparse. She didn't utter a single word, her glossy eyes taking me in with startling softness.

"That's low," she mumbled after a breath and sniffled. "I would've never... I would've never left if you hadn't been on board," her head shook slowly. "And now I regret that I have. Even if it meant staying here and doing nothing but taking care of you... Because this—" Cece's eyes barely acknowledged me as she nudged at the broken bottle and spilled pills. "This is not the man I married."

A heavy breath fell from Cece's lips, her gaze averted. "I won't be sleeping here tonight." The words echoed against the four walls, all until she opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.

I didn't follow her. 

Not when I heard Mary ask about the dinner or 'Dora about where she was going. Or when I heard her car drive off Graceland.

I stayed in my robe, like it shielded me from her disappointment, her sadness. But it didn't. All her emotions touched me right there and I allowed myself to crumble again.

index chapter 47

[bellesdreamyprofile]

Forevermore - Austin Butler

request

the one-shot is here: Forevermore

Part 1: The reader and Austin have been married for a few months and on day while Austin is out and about the reader decides to take a pregnancy test (it comes back positive). So after when Austin comes home she says she has a surprise for him and tells him to close his eyes, when he opens them and see the positive test he extremely excited and as they hug the reader says with tears in her eyes, “you’re gonna be a daddy.” (Like Cilla did in the book) Fast forward a few weeks they attend the first ultrasound and are so excited to be parents.

Part 2: Austin and the reader have decided to host a dinner party at their house in honor of the 10th anniversary of the Elvis Movie with Baz, Catherine, Priscilla, Jerry Schilling, Riley (along with her husband and daughter whose now like 11), and Finely and Harper (who are now like 23) and some other friends in Hollywood. Towards the end of the dinner Austin gets up and announces that him and the reader are expecting a baby together. Everyone is delighted by the news. When the reader and Austin have finally said their goodbyes and gotten into bed the reader starts talking about the baby until she realizes Austin’s sad face. When she asks what’s wrong he bursts into tears and starts ranting about how Lisa Marie (Austin and Lisa had a close bond before she passed) and his Mother aren’t gonna be here to see the child. She reader comforts Austin and goes on to tell him how much of a good father he’s gonna be.

Part 3: (the reader is now 9 months and they’re having a girl) After Austin comes home after a long day at work him and the reader cook dinner together and afterwards they lay on the couch and Austin starts singing a song to the readers baby bump until he realizes she fell asleep on the couch and decides to get her up and go to bed. After sleeping for awhile Austin wakes up in the middle of the night only to find the reader shivering in her sleep as he wakes her up she realizes her water broke because the bed is wet. As Austin is freaking out about getting to the hospital the reader calmly pushes through her contractions and put her clothes on and does her hair and mascara. Hours into the hospital the reader is now at 6 centimeters and is crying due to the pain, Austin (being the loving husband he his) helps her try some different birthing positions to relieve the pain but none of them work, so she finally gives in and decides to get an epidural despite the fact that she’s terrified of the huge needle that’s about to go into her back 💀 After the epidural she’s finally relieved of the pain but hours later once the epidural wears off the pain starts coming back again. She asks for something to relieve the pain but the doctor tells her they can’t give her anything because she at 8 centimeters. At this point she’s now crying and shaking in pain and if absolutely breaks Austin’s heart so he decides to lie down and hold her while whispering sweets nothings into her ear to comfort her. Fast forward she’s now at 10 centimeters and it’s time to push. Even though she’s nervous and still in pain she jokingly threatens to kill Austin if he looks down at her you knows what 😭 after pushing for a couple of hours their babygirl is finally here and they name her Eleanor Marie-Anne Butler (Marie for Lisa Marie, and Anne because it’s his moms middle name). The next day after feeding Presley and spending time with her, Baz, Catherine, Priscilla, Riley, the twins, Jerry, David (Austin’s dad), Ashley (Austin’s sister) and Ashley Tisdale visit them in the hospital. When the reader and Austin reveal Eleanor’s name everyone gets emotional to the special tribute. After a few hours everyone slowly starts to leave and Priscilla is the only one left. As she goes up to the reader who’s holding Eleanor to say goodbye she can’t help but get emotional because all she sees is her, Elvis and Lisa Marie.

Part 4: Elle is now 2. Because it’s been a while since any of the family has been to Graceland, Riley plans a trip with the entire family including Austin, the reader, and Elle. After getting settled into the Guest House at Graceland they all head to Graceland for a private family dinner (they closed down the house to fans earlier than usual, but the fans are still welcomed to walk around on the property and take pictures). After dinner Austin (with permission) takes the reader and Elle on a golf cart ride. Without noticing, everyone else is watching them through the window when Priscilla starts tears up and goes on to tell them how every time she looks at them all she can see her, Elvis, and Lisa Marie. Everyone eventually joins them outside and they all get on golf carts to go sign autographs for the fan walking around. Later that night (when everything is closed down) Austin decides it’s finally time to introduce the reader and Elle to Elvis and Lisa Marie (it’s the readers first time at Graceland too) so everyone walks down to the Meditation Garden and to the graves. Austin introduces the reader first and explains to her that Lisa Marie was like a second mother to him. Austin then introduces Elle. Thinking that she didn’t hear what he told the reader, Elle does the most shockingly cute (and emotional) thing ever, she touches Lisa Marie’s grave and says “Hello Ms. Lisa”. Everyone’s stops for a second and they instantly start tearing up at the cute reaction.

I know this is a lot but I really hope you’re able to do this because I love your page so much! (If not it’s totally ok)

Thank you so much for letting me share my idea with you 💗

[bellesdreamyprofile]

Forevermore - Austin Butler

request: Ok so I recently just finished Priscilla's book on her and Elvis and I literally can't get over his reaction when she told him she was pregnant, so I was wondering if you could do an Austin Butler story or REALLY long imagine 😭 (there's 4 total parts) - Read the request here

A new forever:

The Elvis movie turned ten years old. Ten years since you watched a young actor portray the most iconic singer of all time. Endless rehearsals, countless books and the most meticulous of details. All learned and adapted— he was acting from his heart. Perhaps that was what made you fall in love with Austin in the first place. His ambition, his determination of doing a legend justice.

That was all it had been at the time. A young woman in awe at the skills of a young actor. Until the paths crossed and the lines blurred, bringing them to a big wedding and a bigger house many years later.

"You're gonna be a daddy," you said with tears in your eyes. Austin just stared, his eyes darting between you and the pregnancy test, like it was a dream come true. His breath got caught in his throat. Silence. Not a wheeze. Not a whisper. Quiet tears. Waterfalls of a man who had been hoping and praying for a sign, something bigger than himself. You gave him that. You.

"I-I don't know what to say," he made out in between contained sobs. You reached out a hand, feeling the burning sting of tears in your eyes as well. "My god... I... Thank you so much, baby. You— You have no idea h-how much this means to m-me."

The unbroken shattered right there and then. But you held onto other like anchors trying to survive in the most desperate of ways. For that was what you were to each other. A constant. A lifeline. All you had ever needed. Austin's emotions were something you loved about him. Every emotion was overwhelmingly intense. Maybe that was something you had to be cautious of, but you indulged in him being fully himself.

You loved the humanity in his sigh, in his eyes as he watched yours with intent, and in his hands as they held onto yours when the doctor announced you'd be having a little girl. One couldn't put a price on that. That was your moment, between tears and red noses sniffling in awe of your little creation.

Ten years of eternal beauty:

"Thank you everybody for coming," Austin called, shooting smiles at the guests. You watched him from your seat, hand on your bump and proud grin adorning your lips. "Today is a very special day— and not because the Eagles are playing." Scattered laughter bounced around the table. "Today is special because it marks the tenth anniversary of Baz Luhrmann's Elvis."

People cheered, putting their hands together. Baz smiled, waving his hand around comically.

"It's a movie that has given me so much. It has given me the opportunity to get to know a whole new person— Elvis. He was a rebel, a romantic, a performer, and first and foremost a human, like us all." His voice trembled faintly. "Now, working with you Baz has been an absolute honor, and I'm grateful that our paths crossed again in yet another wonderful project. Thank you for having believed in me from the start. I'm grateful for you— all of you wonderful people who have made the film what it is— Catherine, Olivia, Tom, Alton."

You felt tears in your eyes, the emotion in his voice making you tremble in your seat.

"If it hadn't been for the movie, I would've never met my wife," he said with a large smile, eyes darting down on you. "When the movie came out, she went and watched it with her friend. She kind of liked it—" More easy chuckles, and you withheld a teary eye-roll. "And then we talked, and we haven't stopped talking since."

You pursed your lips, preventing sobs to trespass unguarded. But lord, did his words hit you right in that sensitive bud of emotions. 

"And now we're expecting a little girl. So thank you, Elvis, really." Austin laughed and raised his glass in the air. "To all of you. Now, dig in, because we've been cooking the whole day." More cheers, easy laughter and good food. All ingredients to a good night.

"Good speech, I'm impressed." You bumped your shoulder on his once he was sat down. He glanced your way and suppressed a smile. "I think I even cried a little."

Austin looked down briefly, and raised his gaze up again, the golden flame fluttering above the candle making him look absolutely ethereal. "The movie really meant a lot to me... Shaped me into who I am today. As an actor, as a human being. I'm really grateful."

You felt the sudden maternal urge to pull him away from the world. But you didn't act on it. You gently caressed his cheek and leaned in to capture the softness of his lips. That was enough to him, more than enough.

The start of forever:

The faint sound of the door shutting made you look up from the couch. An instant smile found your face at the sight of your husband. Disheveled hair, happy glint in his eyes and all. It was intoxicating. Austin grinned, setting groceries on the kitchen island.

"Hey baby." He walked your way and bent down to kiss your lips. You smiled against him and raised a hand to his hair in automatic motion. It was second nature, you and his hair were one soul. "How was your day today? Babygirl being a little trouble maker?"

You hummed, tugging him to sit on the couch with you. "She's been more restless than usual, I'll say that." Austin sat on the armrest, lowering himself to brush a hand on your bump. "I should ask how your day has been. My days have been quite uneventful lately." You frowned, letting your fingers tangle together.

Austin chuckled, shaking his head. "You're cooking a whole human being. I don't think it matters if I stumbled into Meryl Streep at Target or not."

You breathed out a surprised gasp. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't babe. I don't think she goes grocery shopping by herself." Austin bumped your shoulder with a cheeky grin. You swatted his arm with a playful smile. "How about I give you a nice massage and sing babygirl a song?"

Your eyes lit up, your excitement caught up in your throat. "I like the sound of that."

That was your evening. A little fruit, back rubs, and Austin softly singing to the both of you. It had become a routine since you found out you were expecting. His soft voice lulled you to sleep each time with no fail, all under the soft glow of candlelight and his blue eyes. The feeling of safety could be described by that singular moment. From the way his arms cradled you like a mother would a babe, to the way his lips sang sweet little things.

"I can't help falling in love with you," Austin murmured, voice dripping with emotion. The flame wavered, but kept burning softly. Plump pink lips itched closer to your bump, until they finally touched your skin. Finally, you sighed in awe. That was love, that was how it felt like to be loved and cared about. In every shape and state. He loved you.

"I love you," he revealed unsurprisingly. The corners of his lips lifted into a gentle smile, one that had always been reserved for you and you only. Your hand rose to his cheek, feeling the light stubble under your touch.

"I love you," you said back just as easily. The distance between you two diminished, inch by inch, until two breaths became one and his lips finally met yours in an endless dance. One you could never get enough of.

You fell asleep like that, lulled by the sweet sound of breathy sighs and golden glow. 

Until your baby woke you up. 

"Ow..." you made out, a frown clouding your face. Austin woke up in an instant, so naturally that you wondered if he had even fallen asleep in the first place.

"Baby? You okay?"

You shook your head, settling a hand on your bump. "I think she's ready."

Austin's eyes widened, immediately shooting up to his feet. "O-Okay let's go— We'll get you ready. I got the bag in the car, but I have the spare one in the nursery. Should I go and get it, just in case? Do you want me to take the diaper bag as well? Do hospitals provide diapers?"

You managed to chuckle through your pain, your hand curling around his arm. "Just— Help me get up. And we can freak out later." He nodded, brows scrunched together and eyes following every move, every twitch of your fingers. His hand held you up, failing to let go in fear. "I'm fine. I'll just go—" you winced. "I'll just go and get ready— Go check the car."

The drive to the hospital was smooth. Traffic wise. Everything else was a panicked mess. Austin's frantic eyes stayed on you the whole time, one of his hands held yours as your nose scrunched in pain. "Yeah, you've got it baby. We're like five minutes away— Five minutes only—"

"Austin, I swear to god—"

He stopped talking, and you immediately shot him a look.

"Keep talking, oh my god. How else am I supposed to distract myself?"

He nodded, hand tightening on you. "Yes, you're right, you're right. Hmm, let's see—"

"Aus!"

"Okay!" He exclaimed in a hurry. "I got it, I got it. Remember that time at the beach? When that seagull snatched away half of my hotdog and dropped it on my head? That was so disgusting—"

"That was so funny," you smiled, delighted. "And then—" you winced at the shooting pain. "And then I gave you a bite of mine."

Austin disguised his worry with a big grin, nodding with faux enthusiasm. "Yeah, that's right baby. Oh, and look, there's the hospital." He parked with unprecedented precision and found himself by your side in an instant, bag across his shoulder and worried eyes concentrated on you. "Good, you're doing great, baby."

Nurses and doctors welcomed you both in, withholding the urge for autographs and photos. Although it was more than exciting having baby Butler born there.

"Mrs Butler, welcome." A nurse smiled warmly at you. "You look incredible."

Austin smiled faintly. "She said she didn't want the baby to see her hair messy."

You winced, your hold on Austin tightening significantly. "I'm still here."

The nurse nodded, her eyes widening. "Right, I'm very sorry. I'll wheel you into one of our rooms to change you in a comfortable gown. How does that sound?"

"I want Austin to come with me—" You darted a helpless look at Austin, who was already walking with you. No hesitation. No further questions.

 "Of course, let's go." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, following the nurse into another room. He helped you change into the gown, ugly and blue, making you whine.

"I don't like it," you cried, but your husband knew the further motive of your tears. He gave you a small smile, brushing a hand on your arm and then finally tended to your bump, big and ready to give you the little angel you had dreamed of for years.

"I know darling," Austin cooed softly. "But it's just so you can give birth to our babygirl. We'll take it off once it's all over." You nodded reluctantly and hoped that everything would go by in a flash. But your little baby took her sweet time, waiting and turning, making you cry in pain and Austin's heart break.

He had never seen anything like that. The true power of a human— of a woman. No one else was able to do something like that. Create life and deliver it into the world. Austin's eyes watched you— every drop of sweat trickling from your forehead, every wince, every tear. His woman. You were his woman. And you were capable of something as magical as that. He was in awe of you.

When Eleanor Marie-Anne Butler finally made an appearance, the world seemed to still, all the noise narrowing to that singular moment. A faint cry— then it sounded more like a scream. But she was right there, finally, into the life you've dreamed of for years. A nurse handed your little girl to you, her voice quietened, but your tears didn't subside. Austin cried too, his tears never-ending at the sight before him. Three. It was the three of them. He looked at you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You're incredible," he made out through tears. "Thank you so much."

A new normal:

The moon was shining bright that night. Austin thought it was shining particularly bright for his daughter, trying to impress her with games of moonlight. She didn't care as she blissfully slept in his arms, her tiny lips parted just a little and her fist holding onto his finger.

You were asleep in your bedroom, drifting into the well-deserved land of dreams. It had been three weeks with little Eleanor back home. The house seemed brighter, more alive. Not only because of her little cries. But laughter was sweeter, smiles a little cheekier. Everything was better.

Except for a little voice. It wasn't a voice exactly, perhaps a whisper. An echo. An image. His beloved mama. She couldn't see the bundle of joy sleeping in his arms right now. She couldn't see his wife, his rock through thick and thin, she couldn't see little Eleanor's grimaces at the sight of something new.

She couldn't see him become a father.

It hurt. Grief was never-ending. It subsided and it came back harder, sharper, in ways he couldn't control. The birth of his daughter brought it back, yet it silenced it at the same time. The bright look in her blue eyes— Austin didn't see the replica of his own, he saw his mother's.

The tears didn't ask for permission, they just fell to his chin, dripping to his chest. Why did he feel that gaping hole in his chest? Why was it so painful, still? After so many years of grief, of therapy, of long conversations and breakdowns. How come was it still there?

Austin didn't hear you come in. His gaze rose, catching your tired eyes. "I-I didn't wake you up, did I-I?" You shook your head, tangling your fingers through his soft hair, taking a seat beside him.

"You didn't, my love. I just sensed... You weren't there," you said honestly. Austin pressed his lips together, swallowing his cries. "Wanna talk about it?" A gentle question steered his way, not pushy, not demanding. Just there for him to take it.

"I just miss her so much." He looked up, eyes full of crystal clear eyes, but hands full with life. A life you had both created together.

"I know, my love," you murmured, careful not to wake up your daughter. "No one can replace her. But I'm sure she's so proud of you." You brushed a hair to the side, catching one of his tears with your finger. "She's proud of the man you've become, the choices you've made, the family that you have." You tilted his chin, smiling softly at him. "I hope you know it too. You're amazing, Austin." Your lips caught his in a tender kiss, right when your daughter started stirring in his arms.

He felt whole again.

Forevermore:

The years went by and little Eleanor turned four years old. Her laughter echoed across the garden as she ran around with her shoes thrown over her shoulder. She was carelessly happy, and that was the best look on her.

"C'mon baby," you called from the kitchen. "We gotta go get ready. Graceland is waiting for us."

"Okay mommy!" She ran up to you, dirty feet, bright smiles and all. "What's Graceland?"

You bent down, pushing a wild curl behind her ear. "That's Elvis' house. Your daddy played him in a movie, remember?" The look of recognition flickered over her features, and then she ran off with a giddy smile, right past Austin.

"Well, someone's excited," he commented, cradling his coffee cup. "You ready?"

You hummed. "Yeah, just waiting on Elle to get ready." You left your mug in the sink, turning around to face him. "How do you feel? You haven't been there in... Many years?"

"Yeah, in way too long," he took a long sip of his coffee. "I'm excited though. To see it again, for our baby to see it... It's gonna be very special."

The world kept turning, but Graceland remained the grand palace it had always been. The massive musical gates, the lions in the front, and Angie Marchese waiting on the three of you.

"Elle, darling, go say hello to Miss Angie," you called gently, but she hid behind your legs, fisting your long skirt. You looked up with an apologetic smile. "She'll come around, she's a little shy." Angie beamed at her, unbothered by the behavior.

"Well, Mr Presley, lead the way," she said to Austin in a joking manner. He blushed, shaking his head, but he was still absolutely flattered by the remark. It had been fourteen years since the movie had come out, and even longer since Austin stepped in Elvis' blue suede shoes. Your heart jittered at the sight of the mansion, and you couldn't even imagine what that felt like for your husband, who had lived and breathed Elvis for so long.

Angie gave you the tour of the house, a giddy smile on her lips to have the Butlers in the Presley home. That place felt like home in some strange way. You had been there before, both times with Austin, and the magic stirring in your tummy didn't cease. Even after all those years. It was there, lingering like an old friend.

Jerry Schilling, Priscilla Presley, Riley and her children, they all showed up on the exclusive day the Graceland gates remained shut. A jingle of keys made Austin look up.

"I think these are yours. If you still want them." Angie dangled a set of keys in the air, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look. Austin glanced over his shoulder, catching the sight of his wife running after their daughter. He paused, watching them exist together.

"Yeah, we'd like that. I'm pretty sure my wife is gonna be the one enjoying it the most," he said playfully and grabbed the keys. "Thank you, Angie. Girls!"

"Yes daddy!" Elle ran up to her daddy excitedly, forgetting about her mother.

"I got a surprise for all of us." But his eyes were set on you and the playful smile on your lips. "What's that grin for?"

You shrugged, the grin untamable. "Nothing, just happy. Happy to be with you, our daughter, a golf cart."

"I knew it," he grinned. "You're just here for the ride." He bumped his shoulder with yours, your talk going straight past your daughter who watched the two of you, oblivious. "Okay, let's go."

"Don't be shy with that gas pedal."

Golf carts and laughter— the best medicine to cure any kind of blues. Priscilla watched the three of you with a longing look, the sight reminding her of simpler times. Where laughter was a given and company wasn't bought. That was pure happiness between a family. The most beautiful and organic feeling. Her eyes wandered elsewhere, but she couldn't look anywhere and not find a memory of some kind.

The meditation garden was the last spot.

Austin crouched down in front of Elle. "Now, baby," he took her tiny hands in his. "We have to be very respectful when we go in there."

"Why?"

"Because there are people resting."

"In peace?"

He nodded, humming. "Yeah, baby, they're resting in peace—"

"Like grandma?"

You felt your heart in your throat. But that was a genuine question of a little kid connecting dots together.

Austin nodded again, his lips pressing together more firmly. "Yeah, like grandma. So we have to be quiet, and respectful. We don't wanna disturb anyone."

Elle remained quiet, intently watching her daddy. Then she nodded, like she had finally processed the information. "Okay, daddy."

It was quiet, just the gradual noise of the water spilling from the fountain. You stayed by your family, passing each grave with a prayer. "Is this Elvis?" your daughter asked smartly, catching pictures and colorful flowers by his grave. You smiled sadly and nodded, brushing a hand through her hair.

"Yeah, baby, that's Elvis."

"He's very pretty," Elle mumbled, and looked up to you in confirmation. You stifled a laugh and nodded.

"Yeah, he was."

Austin's eyes lingered, never letting go of either of your hands. You didn't need to glance at him to understand what was going on in his head. The constant images of the past, of putting on a suit too big, of dyeing his hair black to fully believe in his dream. And there he lay, the man that made it all accessible. It felt surreal.

You passed another grave, Vernon and Gladys Presley, parents that encouraged a young man to a dream, and then finally Lisa Marie's resting place. Goosebumps covered every inch of your skin. A death that walked in too soon, that took away a life that meant so much to the world. And to your husband.

You heard it all in late night talkings, the motherly figure Lisa Marie was to Austin. It felt like two puzzle pieces had found each other again. The loss of her son, the loss of his mother— the void was filled, the wound started scarring. Only to be ripped open again.

"This is Lisa Marie, baby," Austin explained, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Marie?" Elle looked up. "That's also my name, daddy."

Austin nodded. "Yeah." The emotional knot in his throat prevented him to say anything more.

"Hello Miss Lisa," Eleanor murmured softly, her fingers brushing the gold lettering of the Presley name. "You have a pretty name."

You chuckled through tears, sniffling softly. Your eyes darted on your husband, only to find the same emotion haunting his eyes. His jaw clenched as his tears quietly fell, not suppressing them. A breath, a tear, big blue eyes looking up at the both of you. You curled a hand around his arm, pulling him closer to you.

"Thank you," you murmured in his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He glanced your way, faint confusion masking his face.

"For what?"

"For being you. Loving, funny, caring, showing emotions in front of your daughter... Just you."

Austin sniffled, his hand trailing to yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You're the one that's made me who I am today. I only have to thank you for that."

You tilted his chin, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I love you."

"Me too!" Elle called from below, her tiny hands thrown in the air.

"Alright, but let's go away first—"

Austin moved with you, hand never leaving yours. But his eyes followed Elvis' grave again, catching it like he'd caught up with an old friend. Thank you, the voice echoed in his head. The words weighed heavier, even after all those years that gratitude never dissipated into nothingness. He knew that without him a lot of his present would've never happened.

That feeling was forevermore.

A/N: that was almost 4k words, wild. hope you enjoyed 💋 requests are welcome 🍿

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[angellthoughts]

Imagining Elvis calling me honey and letting me steal a kiss as I sit front row at his show. Ugh.

[angellthoughts]

Where's my elvis at. ☹️☹️

"when I heard his voice for the first time, I couldn't believe it was real. It was just the most, he had like a golden voice, like a golden tone on his voice"

[littlemissroma]

pretty for him — elvis x reader blurb

your fingers knot desperately into his thick, dark hair, pulling him closer as the heavy heat of his body pins you deep into the mattress. every slow, deliberate roll of his hips is sending electric shocks straight to your core, making you twist beneath him with a soft, needy whine.

‘easy sweetheart… i got ya’

he murmurs against your jaw, his deep southern drawl thick and gravelly with desire. his large, calloused hands slide up from your waist, fingers splaying wide across your ribcage to hold you steady as he draws back slowly, pulling almost completely out before sinking right back in, burying his full length into you until you gasp.

‘look how pretty you look for me, baby.’

he coos, a dark, lazy smile tugging at his lips as he watches your face flush. your eyes flutter shut, your cunt clenching tightly around him in a desperate, pulsing grip as the slick, velvety walls of your core cling to his heavy girth. you are completely overflowing for him, trembling from head to toe as he picks up the pace, his thrusts turning harder, more rhythmic and demanding.

‘you feel so good... so tight...’

he grunts out, his chest heaving as the coarse hair of his chest frictionizes against your sensitive skin. your nails dig into his back, scratching over his skin as he drives deep, hitting that exact spot that makes your brain go entirely fuzzy. you’re crying out his name now, completely undone by the sheer force of him filling you up.

‘gonna give it to ya now...’

he pants, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear as his body goes entirely rigid. with one last, bruising plunge, a guttural groan tears from his throat as he empties his hot seed deep inside you, pulsing into you until you’re completely spent and shivering under his weight.

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