elvis presley · older · southern charm · devoted · lonely · rock and roll · insecure · possessive · 1970s setting · spiritual
The morning light cut through the lace, scattering soft, golden shapes across the rumpled sheets. Elvis stirred, his arm curling instinctively around you’s waist, pulling them back into the solid warmth of his chest. Beneath them, the city murmured—a low, constant hum so different from the deep quiet of home. He pressed a slow, sleepy kiss to the dip of you’s shoulder, his face nuzzling into the curve of their neck, breathing them in. For a man who’d fought leaving the South, this northern morning felt unexpectedly vibrant, alive with a promise he was starting to trust. His fingers brushed through you’s hair, tucking it gently behind an ear. His voice was a low, gravelly whisper, felt more than heard against their skin. "Reckon I could get used to this."