Yours Truly - Chapter 1: Make A Wish

Yours Truly - Chapter 1: Make a Wish

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

・❥・Genre: slow burn, mystery, angst, fluff.

・❥・Word Count: 4.1k

・❥・Summary: In which a 21-year-old girl suddenly finds herself having consecutive dreams of a particular rock ‘n’ roll star whom she has never met and who died 45 years ago.

・❥・ Ratings & Warnings: SFW. But a brief mention of a sexual topic (nothing extreme), curse words.

| chapter index | prologue | chapter 2

--

NOVA 

When things appear to be blissful and tranquil, that can be snatched away from you in an instant. 

"I knew I'd find you here," A confident statement followed by a sigh, not long after. The empty seat beside me creaks by the motion of being pulled back, as the person occupies it. I observe this in my peripheral vision, but my eyes are fixated on the pages and it's ink in front of me. 

My unchanging position quickly goes noticed by the person beside me, as their hand appears right in front of me - right in the middle of the words that my eyes are drinking in. 

"Luke!" I exclaimed, quickly turning my head towards him. My voice seemed to alert the librarian, as she shushes me very abruptly, a firm glare in her eyes. Both Luke and I mouth a 'sorry' before I turned to glare at Luke. 

He threw his hands up in defence, a grin etched on his lips from the success of disrupting my concentration. 

"I just had to," He shrugs, "your eyes were practically glued to that book."

"But rightfully so!" I flipped the book to show the front cover to him, pointing my finger at the title as if to say matter of fact. 

Luke frowns, confusion wiped his features, "I don't get it." 

"Hamlet. Shakespeare? For our assignment?" 

He snaps his fingers as his mouth utters the realisation, "Oh!" 

I nodded and shook my head, "Exactly." 

"When's the deadline?" He inquiries, a slight panic in his tone - but not quite. Luke was always that person that did not have one single panicky bone in his body. Instead, calmness ran through his veins. Very laid back. Too much, I sometimes think. 

"In three months."

"You are crazy, you do know that right?" Disbelief is written all over his features. 

"Hmm. is that a rhetorical question?" I asked, a smile playing on my lips. 

I do understand Luke's friendly concern over my perhaps 'extreme' attitude of studying. I start an assignment as soon as the professor announces it, never wasting any minute. It allows me the time to construct a first draft, then edit it, then write a second draft. The second draft I find is the midway of the getting that final draft perfect. Precisely on point. 

"Anyways, " I begin, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?" 

"Two things." 

"Good or bad?" I tilt my head at him. 

I met Luke two years ago at the very start of my life as a university student. It was orientation day, and it wasn't anything entirely unique - we were stood next to each other in the line to get our ID's. I made a comment about the scorching heat of the sun, and he turned around to inquire whether I needed to borrow any sunscreen. A very odd way to start a conversation. We later found out that we shared one class together, Creative Writing. From then on, we hung out and naturally formed a friendship. Although, we couldn't be more different in some cases. 

This may be one of those cases. 

He grinned playfully, "Depends on what your definition of those are."

"I know we never share the same definition of either of those." I squinted my eyes at him, smiling. 

"Touché."

"I like him." Luke stated, all the humour from his face has vanished and in its place is a dawned realisation and an unmistakable fear. There is no exaggeration when I say that Luke and I are polar opposites. He always took the leap into the unknown, never over-analysing possible outcomes - he just goes for it. Never a silver of fear and panic in him. 

So to see that very rare emotion clear in his face - I knew that my friend was in a delicate state. 

"Who?" I asked. I already had a gut feeling on who he was referring to, but to hear it from himself would confirm this. 

"Matt." 

I felt my heart sink for him. Luke and Matt began a friends with benefits situation, no strings attached. In our generation, that type of arrangement was not uncommon - and yet, I still worried for my friend, as I recall when he brought it up to me a year ago. Luke may be a very laid back person, full of spontaneity and fun - but he is prone to being caught up in the web of infatuation, very quickly and deeply. On the other hand, I knew Matt. Not closely, but enough to be aware that he is not a relationship-type of guy. So, I warned Luke about this - warned him that the no strings attached situation has its risks. An emotional risks that has the possibility of ending unfavourably for him, so this confession from Luke spikes up that worry that I felt when he first told me about their arrangement. 

"Oh, Luke," I reached my hand out to lightly touch his arm, not wanting to say anything much yet. I wanted to give him the time to process his thoughts and voice them out to me. I needed to listen first. 

He shook his head, "F.uck, I know. I remember you warned me about this. It was going as it usually is, Nova. Then. . . I don't know, " His eyes drift away from mine, as if recalling certain moments. 

Luke proceeded to tell me certain instances where Matt would cross the boundary of the 'no strings attached' situation. Simple, yet it's an intense touch of one's mind. Gestures and actions that two people in relationship would do, a romantic couple. He then continues on to tell me that he finally confessed his feelings to Matt, but has been successfully avoiding him ever since then. 

"I feel like s.hit, Nova." He groans, "I unloaded all of that to him, and ran for it. But I just don't know what else to do. I told myself I'll never find myself in this situation, and yet here I am." He mumbles the last part of his sentence, head in his hands on top of the library desk. 

"Hey," I shake his shoulder comfortingly, "there's absolutely nothing wrong with running away. You did the hardest part Luke, you've got to give yourself credit for that." 

He sighs, "Credit for what?"

"Being damn brave enough to tell him about how you feel, am I right?"

A second of silence. 

"Right. I've got to agree with the voice of reason, I guess." A smile slowly breaks out from him, attempting to lift himself up from despair. 

"Which I am?" I gestured to myself, smiling. 

"From day one. " He sits up, "I want to know what Matt says, but I also don't want to ever know. F.uck. Why is adulting like this? Ever since I started my twenties, life has been putting me on maximum level of danger-type of emotional rollercoasters. " Luke chuckles. 

"Yeah, I get you. But we can only control what we can. No use trying to hold onto things that was never in our hands in the first place." I shrug.

"You know what? Instead of reading books, you should write your own. Like 'Nova's survival guide to life.' or some s.hit." Luke jokes, using his hands for dramatic effect. 

I laugh and shake my head at his ridiculous idea. 

"What? I will bet my left nipple that there will be hundreds lining up to grab a copy of that. You have always been the wise one out of us two." 

I continue to shake my head and dramatically sigh, "I just like being prepared."

Luke snorts, "Uh-huh. But. . ."

"Yeah?"

"Your birthday is in less than twenty-four hours." 

"I am aware of my own birthdate, Luke." I chuckled, but I know that he is indicating to something more with it. 

"What I meant to say is that now you are turning twenty-one. . . maybe just be a little reckless. Don't think, just do." He shrugs. 

I tilted my head forward and he laughs, "Nah, not anything f.ucked up!"

Luke looks around our surroundings, "Libraries and books and being five steps ahead is cool, but don't be too busy looking ahead to notice what's right there in the corner of your eye."

I'm quiet for a moment, but quickly respond to Luke with a smile, "You should write your own book, you know. Like a survival gui-"

"Oh, shut the f.uck up!" He laughs. 

--

The remaining hours of me being twenty years old flashed by like a speed of light. 

I am now stood in front of my full-length mirror in my bedroom, self-consciously turning from left to right and right to left - in attempts to be satisfied with how the birthday dress feels hugging my body. It was a dark purple mini dress that reached my mid-thigh, with long sleeves that covered my arms. I rarely wear dresses in all honestly, only in certain special occasions. There's that silver of self-confidence that beats against the currents in my subconscious mind, creating a friction on my mental image of myself. 

After all, we are our own worst critic. 

My usually straight dark hair was done in loose curls, and I finished my look with a necklace my mother gifted me in advance and the earrings that my grandmother passed down to me a while ago. I always went for the simple makeup, often worried that I'll end up going overboard and looking absolutely ridiculous. So, to ease my worries, Luke's sister came over earlier to fix my makeup into something fancier, but suitable for the occasion. 

Before the conversation with Luke in the library yesterday, I already had preconceived thoughts on the matter about me trying to be 'a little reckless.' I have the habit of journalling quite often, a cathartic way to organise my thoughts and hopefully, makes some sense of it. Like I said before, we are our own worst critic. Although I am firm in my ways of being cautious and wise, the thought of being outside of those lines has crossed my mind more than once for a while now. As the weeks came closer and closer to my 21st birthday, that topic did spin in my head and cluttered the blank pages of my journal. 

When you are a kid, you gaze up at grown-ups in awe and wonder and you can't help but be desperate to grow up. There's that rush and thrill in growing up and being as 'cool' as them. But as the years of your life slip past you and you become older and older as years go by - you shake your head at that naive mind of younger you. How could they possibly think that being an adult is full of pure happiness and magic? 

And the crazy thing is, I did not realise how special it was to be a child - until childhood was over.   Now that I am in my early twenties, the more frightening it is becoming that adulthood can be emotionally abusive and there is that worry of not quite being right. I can be rational, but also feel like an inner child still. A true tug of war where we never truly know who will win. 

But I have concluded this - once you enter adulthood, it seems as though the years past by in a blink of an eye. And I do not want to find myself in a position in the future where I am attacked by this crushing regret that I did not experience life enough. So, I plan from now on, on my first day of being twenty-one years old - I will try my best to take a step outside my lines of logic. Be spontaneous. 

But just like any habit, it is easier said than done. 

I take a deep breathe in attempts to pause my thoughts and exit my bedroom door. I am quickly greeted by a chorus of 'Happy Birthday to you' by family and friends, quickly surrounding me. I smile gratefully, walking slowly towards the table. 

"Make a wish, Nova." My mother says, a bight smile on her face as she shakes my shoulders encouragingly. 

I close my eyes, blocking all the people around me and focus on one particular wish - 

I wish to finally let myself live spontaneously. Nothing extreme. Just something to help me take that first step out. Whatever it is. Send it to me, please universe. 

And with that, I open my eyes and blow out the numerous candles on the luscious red velvet cake. A pattern of applause erupts around me, and the loud music resumes with Luke being the main control of it. 

A little later on, Luke approaches me with a grin on his face, "how does it feel being twenty plus one year added to your life?"

"Weird. But I've made a decision." 

This captures Luke's attention, he looks at me curiously, "Oooooh, a decision on what exactly?"

"What we talked about in the library."

Luke's eyes widen in happy realisation. 

"Yes, that. I. . .I need to be more out there. You are right." I smile at him. 

Luke envelopes me in a tight hug, "I am so happy for you! This is revolutionary, Nova." 

I chuckle at his enthusiasm, and I am about to respond to him when something catches the corner of my eye. 

Some sort of glimmer of faint light that danced from outside the living room window. It was faint and vanished just as quickly as I noticed it. It made no sense since it was night time. It was not the type of light that came from a car's headlight, a streetlight, a flash from a phone - or whatever else. It was a light that had a glimmer to it, almost the type of glimmer you find in animated fairytale stories. 

I blinked and the light was no longer there. Tiredness might just be creeping into me. It was already 11.30PM, as the clock hanging from the wall reads. 

I broke away from the hug with Luke. 

"Have you opened any of your presents yet?" He asked. 

"Not yet."

"Ok, ok good. But we all know mine is the best." He flips his imaginary long hair in a dramatic motion and laughs.

"Of course." I roll my eyes playfully. 

Luke picks up some of the opened birthday cards, "But you've opened some birthday cards I see. Did any cash fall from any of these cards?" He whispered in a conspirator way. 

I chuckle and whisper back, "Yes."

"B.itch you better share. I am broke."

Before I could respond, Luke's curious tone stops me, "Oh, this one's different." 

I looked down at the envelope he is holding. It was a red envelope, but the red was quite faded and It had a small rope that tied it together. I furrowed my eyebrows in curiosity, It felt out of place and it wasn't just because of its color. But there was something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. 

"It's giving me vintage vibes." Luke says. 

Precisely!

"I was just about to say that it looks out of place."

"Hmm, maybe from your grandmother?" Luke shrugs. 

I shake my head, "I don't think so. I've already opened her birthday card for me." 

Without a second of hesitation, I take the envelope from his hands and open it in almost a frenzy. A state of curiosity overpowered me, but then there was confusion. As I peeled open the envelope with my hands, I am met with a blank white greeting card - its front and its inside is blank. No text or illustrations at all. None.

"There's nothing." I state, flipping the card back and forth as if it will magically make a difference to its blankness. 

"You've got to be kidding me," Luke says as I hand it over to him.

"I don't get it." I furrowed my eyebrows. 

Luke walks over to the source of music and turns down the volume, "Hey everyone!" everyone in the room, which is roughly only about 20 people, turn to him and stop dancing - probably in hopes to receive an explanation on why the sudden pause on the music.

"Apologies for interrupting! I just want ask who out of you all has gifted the birthday girl this blank card in this vintage-looking envelope?" He yells, waving the teared envelope with the blank card in it.

Everyone exchanges quizzical looks and shaking of heads. 

"No? No one? Okay then." Luke gets down from the chair, and resumes the volume of the music. He walks over to me and hands me the envelope with the card, "Either one of your cousins is playing a prank on you or no one really has a clue." 

"Well, it would've been nice if there was at least one letter on here. Just anything really. But I doubt it's any of my cousins, they've all collectively just greeted me over the family group chat. " I chuckle. 

"Oh well, after that shortly-lived adventure - I am starving. I think it's time we go get ourselves another slice of cake." He hooks our arms together and pulls me along with him towards the cake on the table. 

"I agree." I grin.

--

Not long after, perhaps around midnight - my guests started to say their goodbyes and head home. The energy of the party has withered down, and myself included - needed to get some much needed sleep. 

"I hope you've enjoyed your birthday, sweetheart." My Mother says, giving me a hug at the front door of my apartment. 

"I have, Mom. Thank you so much." 

"We'll text you once we get home, kiddo." Dad says, smiling at me as he gives me a hug. 

"Okay. Love you both!" 

Both give me wave before turning around and stepping out the front door. I shut the door and lock it, turning around myself and sighing in tiredness. 

"I honestly have no idea how you manage to party throughout the week." I admit to Luke. 

Luke and myself shared the apartment, so naturally he was already lying on the couch. 

"Coffee, Nova. Coffee." He shortly replies.

"Seriously though. My energy is already drained and that wasn't even a crazy party."

Luke sits up and starts to clean up the table, I shortly join him but he promptly stops me from doing so. 

"No way. You are the birthday girl, go get some rest. "

"Are you sure? I can help, it won't ta-"

"Dude, seriously. On the rare occasion that I do clean, which is right now, take advantage and just run." He shrugs. 

I laugh because it is true, Luke was a rather messy person. He was not extremely messy. But let's just say he does get lazy when it comes to the action of cleaning his surroundings. 

So, in this case, he does have a point.

"Okay, fine. Thanks, bestie." I give him a side hug and walk towards the stairs. 

Once I reach my bedroom, I fight the urge to just plop down on the bed. I change into comfortable pyjamas, remove my makeup and place my jewellery on the dresser. 

I yawn as my body finally greets the bed, I pull the duvet cover over myself. My gaze momentarily meet the journal on my nightstand, which reminds me of blank pages that I could fill to chronicle the events of today. But my fatigue is overpowering that action. 

The blank pages make my mind revisit the same state in which the birthday card had, the one that was found in that vintage-looking red envelope. It was strange and made no sense at all. Surely, if it was a prank - then there would be some kind of joke written on the card. But there was nothing on there. 

Nothing.

I feel the waves of fatigue slowly take control of my body, and I allow it. My body finally relaxes, as I am lulled into the hopes of a pleasant dream.

There is such serenity in the silence that greets you when you take a break from the world, and get that few moments of sleep. Some dreams I remember in vague details, others I do not remember at all - as if I did not dream at all and just slept in nothingness until the morning sun greets me. 

My trail of thought is disrupted by the screeching sound of train tracks, I jolt awake with wide open eyes in panic. The sound is so vivid that It is possible that it is coming from just outside my apartment, which is impossible since I don't live anywhere near a train station. 

It takes me a few seconds, but my eyes drink in my surroundings. To the right of me, a wide window that is speeding past the scenery of its exterior. My hands instinctively touch what is beside me - It seems that I am sat on a soft, blue plush wide seat. I already register my surroundings, but my brain cannot fathom the possibility of it. 

I am on a train. A moving train that is going on to I don't know where. But the wooden furnishings of the train compartment make me believe that something is out of place. It all seems so new, but so old at the same time. Like an air clinging onto the past. But not quite. 

"I found you. . . finally." A voice says, in a tone of sheer relief. 

I freeze. My head turns to the source of the voice. The source being the man sat on the seat opposite to me in this train compartment. My eyes drink him in - a wave of thoughts crash through my mind. 

His eyes are unmistakably beautiful. The color blue have never looked more ethereal, and the depth of his gaze made anyone maintaining eye contact with him re-adjust themselves. My throat felt dry all of a sudden. His strongly carved-out jawline was a perfect match for the deep cheekbones that adorned his face. A face that seems impossibly symmetrical - sculpted like the Greek gods one would hear about. His black hair felt into place deliciously against his tanned skin. His lips was curled into that infamous smirk to nicely add onto his overwhelmingly attractive aura. 

It would be impossible to not know who I am facing. 

"I. . .how? you?" Words fail me as I point at him. 

He shakes his head, an amused chuckle escapes his mouth, "Hi, honey." He says, that deep southern drawl prominent in his tone. 

I take a deep breath, "You're. . . him. Elvis Presley." I could not believe the words coming out of my mouth. 

He nods, that smirk of his still very much there, "Yes. Yes I am. " He swiftly gets up, "Hold on." 

He leaves the compartment and shortly returns with a glass of water, "Thought you might need it, darling."

He hands it to me and I gladly accept with a 'thank you', but my brain cannot comprehend the situation. While I'm drinking the water, I cannot keep my eyes off him - his aura was intensely surrounding me, but also the flood of questions that my brain begs to be answered. 

His blue eyes never left mine, with the depth in his gaze - there was something else. There was a sense of disbelief I see in them, but pure joy mixed in too. 

He leans in slightly and with a smile softly says, "I'm glad you're awake, Nova."

next chapter

Announcement!

So if you haven't noticed, I have posted all of the current chapters of my ongoing fic called "yours truly" this fic has already been posted on wattpad. But I thought to crosspost it on here. If you want to read 'yours truly' please go to my masterlist that is pinned.

ALSO! Important note if you see the subheading 'journal entry' alongside 'yours truly' that does not mean that's what the chapters are called!! they are simply a peek inside the OC's journal! All parts of the story are listed as chapters. So please do go to my masterlist to make it easier for you to navigate!

Yours Truly | Playlist 🎧

I present to you the songs that may help you through the journey of the story (in no particular order).

Already Gone |Sleeping at Last 

Mystery Train|Elvis Presley 

Walking in the Wind |One Direction 

The Sound of your cry |Elvis Presley 

Dream |Shawn Mendes 

Remember To Forget |Passenger 

Smile |Mikky Ekko 

About you |The 1975 

Snow on the beach |Taylor Swift ft. Lana del Rey 

Back To You |Twin Forks 

Somewhere Only We Know |Keane 

Labyrinth |Taylor Swift 

Fade into you |Mazzy Star 

Come Here |Kath Bloom 

When I Look At You |Miley Cyrus 

Never Say Never |The Fray 

The Night We Met |Lord Huron 

Bigger Than The Whole Sky |Taylor Swift

A Drop in the Ocean |Ron Pope 

Any Day Now |Elvis Presley 

Until It's Time For You To Go |Elvis Presley 

Kentucky Rain |Elvis Presley 

chapter index

Yours Truly - Journal entry no. 2

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

・❥・Genre: slow burn, mystery, angst, fluff.

・❥・Word Count: 468

・❥・Summary: In which a 21-year-old girl suddenly finds herself having consecutive dreams of a particular rock ‘n’ roll star whom she has never met and who died 45 years ago.

・❥・ Ratings & Warnings: SFW. This is supplemental material to the on-going series 'Yours Truly' please DO NOT read this if you have not read the previous chapters 1 to 10.

chapter index | prev | chapter 11

--

AN ENTRY FROM NOVA'S JOURNAL 

December 9, 2022 

Dear journal, 

Well, I suppose here we are with the second entry. I thought it was about time I gather my thoughts somewhere, on what has happened in my life so far. 

First and foremost, he is still appearing in my dreams. There has never been one single night that he hasn't. Just last night. . . he helped me cross another item off my list - crashing a party. or a wedding reception, more like. I just can't explain how I can always remember every detail. It's not like a snapshot of a blur of photos. No it's more than that. 

I remember our conversations. every single word. And how each one is said. I remember how he smiles or gives me that mischievous grin of his. I remember the way the sun touches my skin and the chatter of people and the music and his sneaky kisses. 

All of it puzzles my mind. 

I do know that I can't tell Luke or Charlotte about any of this. They are my good friends, but this is beyond the level of being comprehensible. Heck, even I would give them a look if one of them told me something like this was happening to them. It does not sound remotely logical. It does not sound very. . .Nova. 

But there are a few things that I am sure, that I am certain of. I while ago I asked him if he was real and he nodded. There is a chance he's real. He mentioned at our first meeting on the train that he is aware that he died. Then that could only mean that he is a ghost appearing to me from the afterlife? That is the only logical answer I could pinpoint. Even coming to terms with that, it clutches at my heart, an indescribable feeling I can't quite comprehend. Overwhelmed and painful. I don't know. 

But if he is appearing to me from the afterlife. . . why won't he give me clear, straight answers? 

He even said that when his song came on the radio- that was his doing. But the one thing that nags at me a little is the band-aid on my knee, from when I fell off his motorcycle. . . in the dream. The dream. Last time I checked, whatever happens in dreams do not transfer to the real world. This one still really makes my head spin. 

I do enjoy his presence - it bewilders and excites me. 

But it still does leave me with the question. . .

Elvis why are you helping me? How do you know me?  Why and how do you know all these details about me?

Till next time journal. I do hope next time I'll have more answers. 

Nova. 

next

MASTERLIST

"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect." - Anais Nin.

Hello! I'm Rose. *waves* I have one on-going fic on wattpad, other than that all my writings are on here.

minors dni. ❗️🔞

symbols; ♠️ - smut, 🌸- fluff, 🍁- angst

Reposting, translating, and/or modifying in any way is not permitted. 📢

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S E R I E S

yours truly (🌸🍁) - elvis x female oc In which a 21-year-old girl suddenly finds herself having consecutive dreams of a particular rock ‘n’ roll star whom she has never met and who died 45 years ago.

┈➤ chapter masterlist

kismet, kismet (🍁🌸♠️) - 1970s!elvis x asian female oc Angel Song grew up in a strict, Korean household. Molding her into the perfect 'good girl.' Through a strange case of serendipity, she finds herself face to face with Elvis Presley, the one person who just might threaten to shatter the glass of her good-girl act.

┈➤ chapter masterlist

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O N E - S H O T S

just in time (🌸🍁) - 70s!e x reader your job is to time travel to the past. but on a mission to protect a certain famous figure from the ‘70s, things take a turn. You are left to face the consequences of bringing the king of rock ‘n’ roll himself to the year 2023.

╰┈➤ read here

little black dress (♠️) - 70s!e x reader After being a devoted Elvis Presley fan for more than a decade, you and your best friend manage to miraculously score tickets for his Las Vegas show. You wear a classic little black dress, as your best friend decides it's the perfect opportunity to wear it for the first time. Unbeknownst to you, what you believed to be a 'plain' outfit choice seemed to have caught the eye of a certain someone.

╰┈➤ read here

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R E Q U E S T S

breathe in, breathe through, breathe out (🍁🌸) - 70s!e x reader

a year with you (🌸) - 70s!e x female reader

Yours Truly - Chapter 10: Girlfriend?

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

・❥・Genre: slow burn, mystery, angst, fluff.

・❥・Word Count: 2.9k

・❥・Summary: In which a 21-year-old girl suddenly finds herself having consecutive dreams of a particular rock ‘n’ roll star whom she has never met and who died 45 years ago.

・❥・ Ratings & Warnings: SFW. self-conscious OC, fluff, a kiss, adorably oblivious OC.

chapter index| prev | next

--

NOVA

"Did you choose this dress?" I asked over the locked door, as I studied my reflection in the floor-length mirror. It was a cream white dress, with wildflower patterns adorning its entirety, the straps were tie-straps and the dress reached just a little above my knees. It was beautiful, and elevated the remembrance of summer days. The dress hugged my figured surprisingly, and I can only logically say that in dreams, of course a dress would fit perfectly. It is my dream, after all. 

"Yes and no." 

I roll my eyes at his response, of course. I take one final glance at the mirror and sigh. It is only natural to feel insecure, but its very existence loomed over me for majority of my teenage years. Being not 'conventionally beautiful' in a high school setting really does something to a young girl's self-esteem. I know now that outer appearance is not all that makes up a person, but it still does hurt when harsh words aim at something you were born with, it eats your soul. So, I guess even at the age of 21, webs of insecurity are still something I battle with. 

"You never give simple answers, do you?" 

Elvis chuckles, "I don't know what you mean. Are you done?"

"Give me a sec." 

I turn around and check my reflection in the mirror one last time. What if the dress is beautiful, but me wearing it destroys it? I purse my lips at the thought, but I don't really want to go back to wearing my pyjamas. What to do? 

"I can almost hear your mind running wild, doll. " He muses, his voice was closer to the door. 

Ok, breathe, Nova. Just get out there and if you look atrocious in the dress, you can always just blink your eyes and wake up from this dream. I try hard to tell myself. 

I take a deep breath. 

"Darlin, do you need help? I wouldn't want to be the shitty guy who's out here waiting when you are out there struggling-" 

I swing the door open, which cuts off his sentence. Elvis is leaning against the wall of the hallway, but he straightens to stand up suddenly. His familiar blue eyes gazed at me, slack-jawed. I take my hand off the door handle and take a cautious step towards him, my hands fiddling. His eyes trail from my legs up to my head, holding my gaze for what seems like an eternity. I hug myself, rubbing my arms consciously. 

What is he thinking?

"I, um. . . sorry I took so long." I finally say, the words seem to get stuck in my throat. My voice was unfamiliar to me, there was shake to my tone. This much attention, coupled with strong silence - I never know how to act. I don't think anyone else has looked at me like that, except for- well, I can't think about him right now. 

"No, no, don't be sorry. " Elvis says, shaking his head. He steps forward and takes both my hands in his, removing them from my self-conscious guarding. 

He breaks out into a smile, "You look beautiful, Nova." 

There's that thump again in my chest. Whenever he is within this close proximity to me, his scent encompasses my senses - that familiar cologne. I honestly do not know how all those woman in the past managed to contain themselves being this close to him. It's like a magnetic pull, an invisible rope that I know I can't fight against, or that I don't want to.

"Thank you." I softly say and looked down at my feet, "But I don't suppose I go wherever we are going wearing these house slippers, right?" I question, in hopes to cut the prevalent tension. 

Elvis laughs at this, as he bites on his bottom lip, "Nah, I don't think it helps your height." 

I gasp and hit his arm playfully, "Rude! Bye now, Presley. I'm off." I dramatically walk past him, but I am not fast enough as he catches my arm quickly. I then feel both of his arms wrap around my waist rapidly, his chest pressed firmly against my back. 

"No, honey, I'm sorry. I was only joking." He laughs, and I can feel his smile against my cheek. 

Oh god. He has never done this before, and this is a different level of closeness. Something you do when you know someone so intimately, and that thump in my chest beats far rapidly. I can almost feel it about to leap out my chest. But nevertheless, I feel my lips stretch out Into a smile, as I feel my face heating up. 

Our laughter dies down and we are once again met with silence.

"Please, don't leave me, Nova." He says this time, in whispers of desperation. So quiet that I almost didn't catch it. 

Is he afraid that I'll end this dream sooner than he wanted, and then he'll have to wait for me again the next time I close my eyes. 

"I won't." I softly say, tilting my head a little to the left to turn to him. 

・‥...━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━...‥・

I sit down in the passenger seat of his car, I am sat down sideways with the car door open and the right side of my body leaning against the back of the car seat. I glance down at him on his knees in front of me. 

"And you just so happen to have this in your car?" I asked him, referring to the pair of white heeled-sandals that are in his hands. 

"In case of emergency," He looks up at me and winks. 

"Elvis, you do know I can manage putting shoes on myself." I chuckle. 

"I know, darlin. But let me just do this for you, okay?" Elvis grins. 

I nod as I know there is no point in disagreeing, once he has his mind set on something he'll do it. 

His hands are soft and careful as he slips my feet into the pristine white heels. The contact of his hand against my skin doesn't go unnoticed by me, as I feel heat rush to my cheeks. He finishes putting the final strap on and suddenly leans down, planting a kiss on the area right next my ankle. 

I gasped, "Hey!" My cheeks are no doubt turning a bright shade of pink. 

"Sorry, couldn't help it." He looks up with that infamous smirk of his, not apologetic at all. 

"Well, thank you." 

"For the kiss?" He says mischievously. 

"No, not for the kiss, oh you are impossible." I roll my eyes, biting back a smile. 

I slip both my legs into the car into a comfortable position, as Elvis stands back up. He closes my car door and jogs around, quickly getting into the driver's seat. He starts up the car, and slips on his sunglasses. I stare in awe at the infamous musical gates of Graceland as we pass through them, "Who opened the gates?" I asked him, as he heads down the main road. 

"Consider it a magic trick," Elvis replies, briefly glancing at me before refocusing his eyes on the road. 

Both of the windows on either side are rolled down, perfectly welcoming the fresh breeze into the vehicle. The wind accompanied my hair, letting the strands dance wildly which I am sure I will have to fix later on. The sun hangs high in the dreamy blue sky, encapsulating scorching hot heat onto my skin.

"It's so warm for a December day, " I admit, it's definitely not the usual temperatures for a day in the supposedly Winter months. But I suppose in the land of dreams, nothing really Is logical. 

Elvis chuckles, "I ain't complaining, just embrace the change." 

"Neither am I. It's good." 

Although the gust of wind is continuous as Elvis speeds through the roads, the scorching heat of the sun still permeates my skin. I have the right clothing on and the right shoes, so it's just my thick, long hair not really helping the situation. 

"Damn it, why don't I have a hair tie?" I mutter to myself, instinctively looking down at my wrist as I pull my hair up in a ponytail. I purse my lips in thought, what can I use to tie my hair up? I pause on my train of thought as I feel his gaze on me in my peripheral vision. I turn my head to look at him, and see his eyes flicker briefly to my exposed neck - his sunglasses are half-tinted blue, making his gaze much more prevalent compared to normal fully-tinted ones. 

"Sorry, I was just looking for something to tie my hair." I find myself explaining, and he simply nods and refocuses his attention back on the road. His jaw is noticeably tensed, with his bottom lip between his teeth. I wonder if he's deep in thought about something. 

He mutters something under his breath, and I think it's along the lines of "Lord, have mercy." He pushes back his hair with his one hand that's not on the steering wheel.

"Elvis, are you okay?" I ask.

Elvis clears his throat, "Yeah, yeah. 'Course I'm good." 

"Okay, I just wanted to makes sure you weren't in pain or something." I chuckled, smiling at him. 

He shakes his head, "In pain? Now, why would I be in pain?" 

"Nothing." I shrugged, "It's just you looked a little tense there for a second."

He lets out a chuckle and gives me a wink, "There's nothing to worry about, darlin', trust me." 

Before I could spark a new subject of conversation, the car comes to halt as Elvis switches the engine off. I observe where he parked, which is in the middle of a vast landscape. He has basically parked on grass. 

"We are here." He states. 

"Um. . . this is the middle of nowhere." I say, as a matter-of-factly.

Elvis gets out of the car and quickly opens my car door for me, with his hand outstretched. I gratefully take it, "Thank you."

He shuts the car door, locks the car - all without letting go of my hand. 

"Are we going to have a picnic? Do you have a picnic basket? I mean, there's literally nothing here. But it is the perfect weather to have a picnic, for sure. Or are we going to play football? or any other sports? Elvis, I'm terrible at sports, I can't cop-"

He cuts off my nervous ramblings with a laugh as he turns his body to face me completely, "Breathe, baby. Breathe. I'm with you, okay?" His thumb gently grazes my cheek, before returning his hand into tightly intertwining with mine. 

baby. 

I feel my pulse quicken, my heart hammering ruthlessly against my chest. And something tells me it's not because of the unknown, but because of him. His way of being so affectionate, gentle, and- I should really stop thinking about it. I can't hold onto this thought any longer. Elvis is a charmer, I mean, I guess he is like that with everyone. It is only natural for him to be so, so. . . close. 

I slowly nod after taking a deep breath. His lips spread into a smile, as he tugs me along with him. We walk down hill a little and not long after, I hear the sound of excited chatter and music booming from speakers fill my ears. We keep on walking, until we find the source of all the sound. There, in the middle of the vast empty grass, was a walkway leading up what looked like two giant light tan-coloured tents that are combined together. As we walk closer, the tents seemed to be held up by numerous solid wooden poles. I immediately stop walking, as my eyes widen in realisation on where we are going, "A party?" I turned to Elvis to confirm my guess. 

"Hmm, not exactly." 

"What do you mean?" 

Elvis ignores my question and tugs me along with him. We keep on walking down the pathway until we are at the very opening in the middle of the two tents. The music and the chatter grow louder and louder, until we are right inside of the tent. Fairy lights dazzle my vision, framing the entirety of the main entrance and the large inner space. Numerous rustic tables adorned the space, with around eight or so people on each table. At the very middle of the it all is a mirrorball. A simple stage is at the very front of all the tables, and a bar to the far left. What seems to be hundreds and hundreds of people occupy the space, all adorned in such formal clothing. But what catches my eye is the three-layer cake on the long table beside the stage, "This is. . . stunning. It's a wedding reception."

Elvis nods. 

"This was not on my list." I say, challenging him. 

"Are you sure 'bout that, Nova?" He grins mischievously. 

Oh no. What now?

Suddenly, a man dressed in security uniform approaches us rapidly. His eyes are narrowed at us, with a clipboard in his hand. 

"I didn't see you both at the entrance. Names?" He questions, suspicion evident in his tone. 

Well, shit. Did I see Elvis take in invitations? I don't think he had any invitations in his hand when we left Graceland. 

"I'm Aaron and this is Katerina." Elvis confidently says, smirking at me. 

First off all, how does he know my middle name? Well, I mean, I know his but that's not the point. 

The guard flips through the pages of his clipboard and shakes his head, "Neither of you are on the list, which means you have both just broken into a private event." 

Oh shit. 

I pull Elvis' arm and frantically whisper into his ear in a panic, "Elvis, this is not good. This is really not good." 

"I've got this, doll." He whispers back calmly with a smirk. 

Elvis turns back to the man, "You see. . . Gregory is it?" He asks, briefly glancing at the name tag on the guard's uniform, in which the man firmly nods. 

"Gregory. Listen, pal, " He steps forward and places a hand on the man's shoulder, he then leans down and whispers something to him as he gestures to me. 

Damn it. What is he saying? 

The guard, Gregory, his face goes a deep shade of red as his eyes widen at me. Elvis leans back and returns to stand next to me, intertwining our fingers. 

"Now you see why, Gregory?" Elvis dramatically sighs, in fake sadness. 

The man nods his head and sputters out a string of apologies, "I-uh. . . of course! Silly me. I apologise to you and your girlfriend. I am so sorry for the trouble." 

"It's all good, man. " Elvis smiles brightly, as Gregory walks away very quickly. 

My mouth is hung wide open in shock and surprise, I turn to Elvis with my eyebrow arched at him in confusion. 

"Girlfriend?! What on earth did you tell the him? You frightened the poor guy to death." 

Elvis simply laughs at my reaction and tugs me along with him, "I'm afraid I can't spill my secrets, baby."

There he goes again with the pet names. 

"No, I want to know!" I pout at him. 

He hums, "Maybe another time. Let's crash a wedding first?" He questions, smirking at me.

I roll my eyes and chuckle, "Fine. But this is not the end, E.P." 

"Wouldn't dream of it, Nova."

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