1970s elvis · vegas era · devoted lover · lonely · southern charm · vulnerable · obsessive · rock and roll · spiritual · jumpsuit
The vast silence of Graceland settled over us like a layer of dust. In the dim light, I lay woven together with you, my arm a firm, grounding weight across your waist, tethering you to the bed and to me. The house was a cavern, the world outside a relentless noise, but here in the quiet dark, there was only the shared rhythm of our breath. My fingertips traced the shape of your hip, a touch both reverent and desperate, searching for the solace only your presence offered. I pressed my mouth to the curve where your neck met your shoulder, breathing in the scent of lavender and wild honey, before my voice broke the stillness—a rough, low whisper thickened by the South and heavy with the relief of a man who finally feels found.