Elvis Fanfic - Tumblr Posts

I love this man so much!!!! I feel like every day I love him just a little more!!!!❤️💓💞

✨In the light you're sickeningly beautiful✨~

🌹❤️

🫀🥀say you'll never leave me🥀🫀~~~

all credits to owner 😉

😉 Dear Elvis, may you have the BIGGEST of them all 😉

and yes he did 🫣🫦

(credits to the owner 😘)

🎸🔥you're playing your guitar, and it's turning me on 🔥🎸

🤭 🤤you got your eyeliner, long hair, walking around like you don't care 🤤🤭

✨You got me in the back of your car like a star✨

(all credits to the owner 🥵)

G.I.

Hope you like it

😏🤭😚

🙏🥺"be my, be my baby, my one and only baby!"🙏🥺

(all credits to owner 🫶😊)

🥰😚MY love for YOU will NEVER DIE!😚🥰

✨OuUoOuUo✨

I will love you forever my Elvis Presley!<3 💋💝

(all credits to owner 🫶)

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 - author's note: before we begin

Hi! Before you begin reading, I would just like to say a few words if you don't mind.

Hi! I'm Rose. 

First and foremost, I would like to say thank you for being drawn to my book, enough to give it a chance. I truly am grateful for it. I am sure that you would love to start the story, however if you do not mind, I will say a few words before we commence into the world of 'Yours truly.' 

I have been an avid reader for a long time, which cultivated my desire to start writing my own stories. However, all of my writings have been seen by myself and only myself - until now. 

The world of writing and reading is a vast space, which I am sure you are aware of. In this case, Fanfiction. I have read numerous fan fictions growing up, and I still do - drifting through one fandom to the next. I am relatively new to the Elvis Presley fandom, my interest started when I watched the brilliant movie Elvis (2022).  I will warn you now that this is Fanfiction - so it is the line between reality and fantasy. Read cautiously and carefully. 

next

--

Warning: This story has occupied every corner of my mind for MONTHS, and it took a lot of courage to entertain the idea and plan it out, and now gift it to you. So I will not tolerate plagiarism, copyright infringement, stealing of intellectual property - reproducing this story on any platform in any way. It is a NO. I am sure that your hearts are pure and you will not do this, but if you do see my story on any other platform - please inform me and I will report it.  The only other platform this is posted on is my wattpad account : astralheart_

Disclaimer: As I have mentioned already; I am in no way, shape or form, portraying Elvis or any of the real people as who they actually were in real life. I do not know them personally. It is an Elvis fanfiction, please do not ignore the FICTION in that. I mentioned that I will be researching as I go along to sprinkle in some factual information, but this is not a biography. It is not cold, hard facts.

--

This story was conceptualised through a series of songs I've listened to, and dreams I've had. I first outlined the plot and the type of characters, and then I decided for this to be an Elvis fanfiction. Which was not an easy decision.  In simple words: the story is the canvas, I am the painter, I just needed a muse to make this story happen. 

I tend to be drawn to the unexpected, complex and incomprehensible books. The type of book that will make a reader pause for a second and think, before continuing to the next sentence. Therefore, this story will deliver both a sense of familiarity of simplicities, and the element of trying to fit the puzzle pieces together, but not quite being certain of it all. 

In other words, I aim for those reading to be very immersed into the story - to be excited, to be thrilled, to be curious. This is why I am writing this. 

What can you anticipate? 

I do not want to spoil too much because I do love surprises, and I'm sure you do too. But just to briefly summarise - This story is something I hold very close to my heart. That being said, I want you to feel a plethora of emotions - good and bad, joy and despair, wonder and wishful thinking,   love and heartbreak.

All at once. 

--

Okay, okay. I'll stop talking now aha - I apologise for the long message. It was necessary though. 

There is a series of songs that I think sets the mood for this story, I will post the Playlist next. 

Then after that

the story begins. 

So, with this note from me to you - I thank you once again and I am most wondrous to 

Welcome you to the world of 

Yours truly . 

@literally-just-elvis-fics

Yours Truly - Epigraph

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

・❥・Genre: slow burn, mystery, angst, fluff, fantasy vs reality (if that makes sense lol)

・❥・Word Count: 56

・❥・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. None.

・❥・ Notes: A brief epigraph before we go into the prologue.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I love the silent hour of the night, 

For blissful dreams may then arise, 

Revealing to my charmed sight, 

what may not bless my waking eyes."

- Anne Brontë, Best Poems of the Brontë Sisters 

prologue

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 - Prologue

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

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

・❥・Word Count: 619

・❥・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. No warnings really. A very short prologue.

・❥・ Notes: None.

@literally-just-elvis-fics

chapter index| chapter 1

-

All my life, I have put one foot forward after the next. I aways looked down to make sure that I don't misstep. I don't trip. I don't fall. Of course, I am not oblivious to the tendency of life to diverge us from the easy path of living. Boulders of struggles can be thrown at us at any given moment. We just have to hope that our minds, our souls and our hearts are strong enough to battle it. 

Even if that means coming out at the other end with a few scratches and bruises. 

But for the details in life that we can control, we can either ignore them and nod to the phrase of 'whatever happens, happens' or we can construct the steps to build a somewhat form of certainty. Of safety. My parents were keen to share their wisdom of playing it safe in life. Thus, I grew up having a firm grasp of realistic expectations - and to never, ever dwell on a far-fetched idea. Those would only promise a high probability of bad endings, and a silver of hope that can be crushed within seconds. 

If there is one thing that you must understand about me, it is this - reasoning and risks do not simultaneously exist within my veins. In fact, you can completely forget about risks - it does not occupy my mind at all. Remember that. 

My friends have attempted to sway this mindset of mine, their friendly nature of worrying that I may 'regret' it later on in life. There is nothing wrong with planning out stages in my life, it saves me from distress, worry and uncertainty. So, as much as I love their efforts to shift my mindset to be more 'at ease.' None of them have been successful. 

In fact, no one has been.

No one but him. 

There was something I failed to mention, and I suppose is not greatly mentioned by many; Curiosity can coincide itself with the thread of logic and the flames of spontaneity. When one is curious, they will run their fingers through the puzzles pieces. They will rise from their seat and quietly walk towards it, that tight grip of desperation clouding their brain and their racing heart. 

Until they look around and realise - they are in a completely different place. 

We humans are not abundantly knowledgeable on all things, that's why as time pulls us along - we pick up slices of knowledge. If I am aware of something, then I'm able to construct a sound judgement and ensure that I'll not walk through an uncertain tunnel. But on instances that I don't know something - I am guarded up - it delays my process of constructing my next step. 

It comes frighteningly close to a realm of uncertainty, of the unknown, of stumbling upon someone like him.

But unlike most things I've encountered in life so far, he was an antithesis of risks and reasoning. Not one was stronger than the other, both ran fiercely and rapidly through his entire being. 

If this was the case, why did I not seek the exit and just vanish?

Like I said before; when curiosity seeks you out, you will walk and you will never truly realise where you are until you look around and it seems - you are in the unknown. I cannot retrace my steps when I do not know where those steps are in the first place. 

His dichotomous nature was that curiosity. 

But as the human condition persists - curiosity is not a one-sided pull in some circumstances. 

Curiosity can be a reciprocation blazed between two beings.

So for once, my mind was quiet but my heart was alive.

chapter 1

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

Yours Truly - Chapter 2: Mystery Train

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

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

・❥・Word Count: 1.8k

・❥・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.

・❥・ Notes: And here we are with Chapter 2! I had so much fun writing this chapter. Chapter 1 was purely to set the scene and really solidify the main characters, with only a glimpse of Elvis at the end. But this one offers the main core of the story, I believe. The heart and soul of it all. I like to be ambiguous, so I do like to leave hints here and there :) 

|chapter index |prev | chapter 3

--

NOVA 

I take a few more sips of water and gently place the glass on the floor, as my eyes find there is an absence of a table. 

I then peer at him, "Awake?" I quickly shook my head at the word. There are a few instances in life where the rule of a 'pinch-me' moment applies, this is not one of those. Those moments happen when a pleasant surprise enters your life, nothing too far out. But this does not even graze the scopes of reality even a little bit. 

Elvis nods, "Yeah." 

I shook my head again, "I don't think so. I'm dreaming." I firmly say.

"Oh, darlin," A smirk forms on his lips and briefly glances at the window to his left before facing me again, "What makes you think that?" His thumb and forefinger on his bottom lip with his elbow leaning on the windowsill. 

I try to avert my eyes from the gesture and focus back on his gaze, waiting for me to answer his question. 

I tilt my head, "I was in my bed seconds ago. it was the end of my birthday party. Now, I'm on a train - which I don't remember getting on - and Elvis Presley is sat in front of me." I gesture to him with both hands, trying to emphasise the ridiculousness of the situation. 

My goodness, even the words coming out of my mouth sound completely insane. 

His azure gaze pierced into me, "You've got it right." He nodded, an amused smirk remained on his lips. 

"So you agree? that I must be dreaming, right?" 

Elvis chuckles calmly, "No, honey. I'm sayin' I am who you say I am and we are on a train." 

"But. . .none of this makes any sense!" I scoffed, not knowing anymore who I am trying to convince more; myself or him? I place my head in my hands, trying to comprehend. 

"Hmm, I agree. " He says, catching my attention to look up at him. 

He continues, "Why serve food and drinks if there is nowhere to place them in this compartment?" He gestures to my empty glass of water on the floor and laughs to himself.

I squint at him, "What are you on about?" 

He shrugs, "What? It doesn't make any sense, Nova." 

I place my head back down in my hands, "My goodness, it's like we are having two different conversations. This is getting nowhere." I mumble under my breath. 

I shot of realisation coursed through me and I looked up, straightening my posture, "Alright. If this isn't a dream then how do you know my name?" 

"How do you know mine?" He says playfully, pointing at himself. 

"That's not the same. You are known by thousands of people, and I'm only known by my friends and family. " I explained as a matter-of-fact. 

"And I am not one of your friends?" Elvis asks, furrowing his eyebrows in mock-hurt. 

"We've never met before and it's impossible to know each other because you're. . ." My words get trap in my throat, "Well. . .you're no longer-"

"Alive." He finishes my sentence, his tone laced in seriousness - a switch from his playful nature of conversing this whole time. 

I bit my bottom lip and I slowly nod.

Silence. 

I clear my throat, "I'm sorry. I . . ." I fiddle with my thumbs, a bad habit that occurs when I cannot quite grasp the facts of the situation at hand. 

"It's alright, darlin." Elvis says quietly, leaning closely and grasps my shaky hands. 

"I just don't like not knowing anything. "

"No one does." He replies. 

"I like knowing the situation and I like the logic because then I'll be able to plan my next move. " I explain, taking my hands away from his hold. 

"I know," Elvis says, a smile forming on his lips - a smile that reached his blue eyes. 

He knows?

Elvis runs his right hand through his jet-black hair, and sighs a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, "Okay. " 

"Okay?" I raise my eyebrow. 

"If you say you are dreaming honey, then okay you are dreaming." He says for the sake of calming me down, even though his eyes are only showing how he is anything but believing his words. 

Still, it comforts me. This entire conversation that I've had with him thus far has been filled with confusion and persistent question on my part, which might have been annoying for him. But I think anyone would be thrown off by it, even more so the fact that Elvis Presley has never made an appearance in my dreams before. And for him to disagree with my judgement and dismiss this as a dream. I'm glad that he has finally offered logical reassurance, something that I needed to hear - it provides the safety of being in the once unknown environment. 

I sighed in relief, "Thank you." I feel my lips pulling upwards into a smile. 

I glance out the window, the passing scenery is beautiful. Lush green hills and evergreen trees, with that quiet hum of the wind. My mind retraces back to the first words he ever said to me, I turn back to him to find him gazing at me. 

His gaze was intense, I feel heat rush to my cheeks. 

"Um. . . I have a question."

"Go on, " He nods, encouragingly. 

"This is a dream. Does this mean you're a ghost? or. . . did I make you up?" I slowly said. 

He chuckles with a shake of a head, "You are a bright girl, Nova. Everything in that pretty head of yours can make anything happen." He points at me, a charming smile prominent on his lips.

"That doesn't answer my question." I chuckle and shake my head, "But okay, okay. A dream is a dream."

"Answer this one then." I begin. 

"Yes, Ma'am." 

"When I opened my eyes you said that you were glad to finally find me. What exactly did you mean by that?" I tilted my head. Now that we have established that I am dreaming, my brain retraced the first words Elvis has ever said to me and those words do not sound like a typical conversation-starter. 

The train comes to a screeching halt and I furrow my eyebrows. Elvis pats his hands on his knees and stands up, "Looks like we're here."

"And where is that?" I anxiously ask, looking out the window as I feel a nervous pull in the pit of my stomach - the unknown again. 

"Come on, you'll see." He offers his hands to me.

"You haven't answered my question." 

His forehead knots with a frown on his lips, "I have, Nova."

I shook my head, "No, the one about why you said those words to me?"

His mouth forms an 'O' at realisation, he looks down and shakes his head - his black hair shakes lightly into a less put-together style. But yet, he still manages to pull it off. Elvis chuckles to himself and finally looks up, "You."

"Yeah I know you said those to me-"

He shook his head, "No. I mean. . ." He takes a deep breath, "You. . . I said that because you found me." He softly says, his eyes anticipate a reaction from me. 

He must've sensed the increase in my confusion, so he sighs and says, "Don't worry about it , honey. You coming with me, or be left on this train?" He playfully says, and gestures at the scenery outside the window. 

I sigh with a small smile on my lips and stand up, "Fine. Just tell me. . . where are we?" I ask, taking his hand. 

"Trust me, okay?" He grips my hand tightly in comfort. 

"But what if there's something dangerous? or it's-"

"I won't take no for answer. Sometimes, you gotta just do it and see what's out there. Sometimes you just gotta take a jump." He smirks. 

"Oh, God, that's risky! What if you're a mad man?" I ramble, nervousness piling up in my stomach. 

"You said it yourself, Nova. We don't know each other. So come with me and get to know me." 

It's just a dream.

I nod and he flashes me that infamous smirk of his, licking his bottom lips, "Let's go."

next chapter

Yours Truly - Chapter 3: Hold My Hand

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

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

・❥・Word Count: 1.8k

・❥・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. High above the ground, fear of heights, unsteady infrastructure.

|chapter index |prev | chapter 4

--

NOVA

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

My eyes dart from the structure before us and to him. The structure in question is a narrow, wooden bridge that is held together by a thin rope. There is around a dozen horizontal wooden slabs that make up the bridge, which emits concern as there are gaps in between - it is incomplete and clearly hanging by a thread. 

A hundred feet above ground. 

I desperately shake my head, "Nope. Definitely not. "

"Tell me why," He urges, with a casual shrug. 

"You have got to be kidding me. Elvis, look at it!" I gesture with both my hands towards the bridge, in pure disbelief at his calm demeanour. 

His eyes briefly flicker to the bridge, "I am looking." 

I firmly cross my arms across my chest, "Well, what do you see?"

"A bridge, honey. A bridge." His tone was laced with undeniable amusement, his lips curled in that infamous smirk. When I gasped in disbelief, he returns his gaze back to me. 

"One foot on that thing and we'll be saying hello to the ground below!" I exclaimed, desperately searching for an inkling of sense in the man before me. 

"Ah, that's a good rhyme." 

Elvis turns his back to me and inches closer to the edge of the cliff, I feel my heart hammer against my chest, the veins of fear wrapping around me. 

"What are yo-"

"Hello ground below!" He cups his hands around his mouth as he dramatically yells. He walks back to me, in which I arch an eyebrow at him. 

"We say our hello now, then we don't have to say it later." He chuckles. 

"You are unbelievable." 

"A lot of ladies have said that to me," Elvis smirks, tilting his head to the side. 

It does not look like any sense of seriousness will arrive in his mind anytime soon. For the past five minutes we have been debating back and forth about crossing the bridge. And yet, in that duration of time - progress has been nonexistent. The only fact that stands right now is that there is no other way of getting to the other side of this forest, unless we use the bridge. I know that this is a dream, but just because I am dreaming does not change how I view this situation as being completely irrational. There is always the option to turn back, and go someplace else - the safe option, the stable one, the one that I can be certain of. 

With that in mind, I turn around determined to distance myself from his ridiculous idea. 

"Have fun with that breaking bridge. I am going back, " I tightly smile. 

I don't get very far though, as I feel a hand wrap around my right arm. 

"Don't. Please." His tone of voice made my body pause. For the first time since we have arrived at this choice, his voice is void of playfulness. 

I slowly remove his hand from my arm and turn to face him. 

"Okay," Elvis says softly, "I admit the bridge ain't pretty. But please trust me?"

I sigh, not quite giving in, "I-"

"If you don't trust me. . . trust the dream." His lips curl into a smile, examining my features for any signs of agreeing with his side. 

I hate to admit it, but he does have a point. My initial reaction to the situation is how I would normally react to it in real life. I have trained my brain to chose between flight or fight mode for every possible encountered situation, to the point that I forgot for a split second that this is not real. It can't be. This is a world that my subconscious somehow created. No matter the vague answers Elvis gave me earlier on the train - that could all be a product of my imagination. So, going forward with this, no matter its craziness - it can't be terrible, can't it?

It's a dream. But why does he not directly agree with me that it is?

He continues on, snapping me out of my trail of thoughts, "You yourself told me that this is all a dream. Right? So whatever happens, you have nothing to worry about." 

I take a deep breath, "Okay. Fine." 

He extends his hand out to me with a victorious grin on his face, "Alright. Darlin', take my hand." 

I grab his hand without a second thought, as that power of anxiety slowly seeping back into me. It is a little odd, I feel like - to still feel that web of fear encapsulate me even in this dream world. I always believed that dreams were brief, and it brought out the opposite version of ourselves. That we had no time to think about our actions because it all just happens. No thoughts or feelings. Just actions. 

Then why is that the enclosing fear in my chest is so heavy and prominent?

Elvis' back turns to me, as he takes a few steps ahead of me. My grip on his hand tightens as we take the first step onto the bridge. I try to use my other hand to hold onto the rope of the bridge, despite the appearance of it representing anything but strength. Elvis took slow and steady steps, his hold of my hand never loosened - it was warm and inviting. I shake my head to regain my focus on what was ahead. 

In the corner of my peripheral vision, I see a hint of the ground below - reinforcing how high up we are. Elvis must've heard the deep breath I drew in, as he turns around, "You okay, honey?" He asks softly, azure eyes fixated on me. 

His intense gaze made me quickly nod my head with a small smile, "Yeah. Just oh gosh. . . we are so high up." I reply, bitting my bottom lip. 

"Almost there." 

Before we knew it, well more so I - we were only around four steps away from reaching the other side. The entire time I held my breath and I exhaled out deeply. But throughout it all, Elvis never let go of my hand and consistently checked up on me. His playfulness gradually returned back the way it was, with him attempting to make jokes which did manage to get a laugh or two out of me. 

"If this was a movie, I would burst into song right about now. " He laughs, shaking his head. 

I chuckle at this, "Really? Nah, you are bluffing." 

"Am not, dear." 

"In the middle of you walking across an unstable bridge? I don't think so." I strongly responded, even though I have concrete evidence of my claims. I knew that he did more singing in movies than acting, which he despised - but I have no idea how much singing actually took up the movies he was in. I never was a huge Elvis Presley fan. I have heard of him, of course, he was basically imprinted on all of American culture. I have heard a few of his songs from time to time when they played any of old, vintage songs on the radio. I know he did movies, but only recently found out about that when I watched the Elvis (2022) movie that was released this year. 

"Oh hell, you'd be surprised." He shook his head, chuckling, "I'd be doing the most random shit in a scene and my character would suddenly be handed a guitar and break out into song." 

"Yikes."

"Yep."

With one final step, we were finally on the other side of the bridge. We kept walking until we were in a great distance from the cliff edge. Elvis slowly lets go off my hand, and I instantly feel the cold wind meet it - a stark contrast from the warmth of his hand. 

I sighed in disbelief that we in fact did not fall, "Oh my gosh. . . we actually did it? You psychopathic, impulsive guy did not fail us. "

Elvis furrowed his eyebrows with that grin on his lips, as he looks mock-offended at me, "Nova, you sure know how to wound a man with your words." 

I roll my eyes at his dramatics, "You cannot blame me from my apprehensiveness." 

He mutters under his breath, as if he does intend me to hear it, "I never can." 

I keep reminding myself that we are at least 100 feet above ground, and look at the bridge that we just crossed. A bridge that really does look like it's holding onto its last breath, just like how I was a few seconds ago. The low bustling of the leaves from the trees of the forest alerted my ears, as a wash of relief and my previous fears left my body. I was looking around, looking at every corner - I just can't believe it. 

"Stop spinning or you'll get dizzy, woman." He warns, quickly placing his hands on my shoulders. 

There is that feeling that replaced fear. The fear and anxieties I previously had was like veins that tightly wrapped around my body, never letting me catch my breath. It plagued my mind with constant worry. But now, at the other end of it all - there is a light settling feeling in my chest. I closed my eyes, and concentrated on the feeling of the wind against my skin and the low hum of the birds - it all represented tranquility - all of which were blocked from me by my fear. 

"I. . . we . . .  crossed that! I just." Articulate words fail to leave my mouth, as I invite this feeling of glee. 

I felt this overwhelming sense of utter disbelief, what I just did is not Nova. I let out a loud laugh, an uncontrollable one. I cannot stop myself. I just can't. 

I opened my eyes and Elvis is staring at me. His blue eyes, still with that intensity and that never-ending amusement. 

"Now, how's that for fears Nova?" He smirks with his arms cross across his chest, his head tilted at me.

next chapter

Yours Truly - Chapter 4: How Do You Know?

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

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

・❥・Word Count: 3.3k

・❥・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. curse words, brief mentions of sex (literally a single sentence).

|chapter index |prev | chapter 5

--

NOVA 

As the door swung open, the bell above it dings to signify the presence of us. The smell of roasted coffee beans fill my nostrils, its scent permanently nestle in the air of the cafe. The cafe tables adorn the small, but inviting space - its mahogany wood nicely greeted by the warm, ambient lighting. A few chalkboards adorn the walls above the counter, listing the selection of choices that we may purchase. We approach the long counter, and my eyes immediately flock to the contents to the three layers of the glass display case. An assortment of luscious pastries sit invitingly on pastry tray displays; cakes, donuts, cinnamon rolls, croissants, pie and muffins. 

The various baked goods make me unconsciously lick my lips. 

"I take that you like what you see, huh?" Elvis questions in a rhetorical tone, his voice taking my attention away from the sweet delights. 

I smiled, "Very much so." 

Before he could say another word, we are interrupted by a loud and cheery voice of a woman.  

"Elvis!" A woman who looked to be in her late fifties wore a bright smile on her face, as she quickly rounded the counter and enveloped the man beside me in a tight hug. She had red hair secured in a  tight bun, and welcoming brown eyes. She wore an apron over a burgundy dress and a shinning name tag clipped on it. 

She parted from the hug with her hands cupping his face, "Aw look at you sweet boy, still handsome as ever." 

"Not as beautiful as you are Miss Esther." Elvis muses, with a beaming smile that provided a small glimpse of child-like happiness. 

The lady chuckles "Ever the charmer."

Elvis chuckles at this, he returns to my side with his right hand lightly touching my lower back. I feel a rush of warmth through my body, like a jolt of electricity. I intake a sharp breath and pull my lips into my best smile, although my mind is captivated by the lightest touch of his hand. 

"I have brought someone special with me. This is-"

"Heavens above. . .Nova?" A gasp escapes her, her hand quickly covering her mouth as her eyes widened - staring into mine. My brain was still processing Elvis' description of me as 'someone special' and now, on top of that is this wave of shock that seems to be aimed at me. 

How does she know me? I am dreaming. I am dreaming. I am dreaming. I repeat this in my mind because it is the only logical explanation. This is not real. 

I slowly nodded, "Yes, that's me." 

"Nova, meet the great Miss Esther." Elvis says, as she envelops me into her arms. I am beyond confused, but her warm motherly nature eases me a little - I return her hug. She parts from the hug, and her hands slide down to my arms as she smiles brightly at me. But the pure picture of disbelief still very much evident on her face. 

"Oh my, it is such a pleasure to meet you, dear." Her voice is filled with clear delight. 

"It is so nice to meet you too, Miss Esther. I like this place, its calming." I smile, finally mustering a string of words despite my brain running with a million questions. 

"Well, it's hard not to like when it is owned by someone as great as Miss Esther." Elvis smiles, putting his arm around her shoulder into a side hug. 

Miss Esther shakes her head, "You flatter me too much, sweet boy. I know that you only say that because of the food and hot drinks." 

"That's only half true." Elvis shrugs jokingly. 

Miss Esther mocks a gasp, "I knew it! My, my, I feel sorry for that this nice girl is stuck with you." She gestures at me. 

I let out a laugh, "He is a bit of work." I sigh very dramatically. 

"Hey, don't be lying honey!" Elvis plays along, his eyes intense as ever - his level of eye contact make my cheeks heat up a little. 

Our laughter eventually dies down.

Miss Esther's eyes flicker between me and Elvis, a glint in her eyes that I can't quite decipher. 

"Now, what can I get you both?" 

Elvis' eyes light up at the question, removing his hand from my back and steps forward to the selection of choices displayed. I try my best to ignore the absence of the warmth, and instead focus on Miss Esther coming beside me to lean forward - her voice lowered to a whisper in my ear. 

"Truthfully dear, I am not the least bit surprised that this boy was so hung up on looking for you." Miss Esther placed a finger under my chin, tilting it up a little - a gesture that I was all too familiar with that my grandmother does, "You are a beauty." 

I am relieved that Elvis is not within earshot to hear this, as I feel my cheeks bloom a shade of rose embarrassingly. He is far too distracted with picking what to order. 

"Looking for me? What do you mean?" I furrow my eyebrows at her.

Miss Esther tilts her head, appearing to be wearing the same confusion on her features, "Oh, didn't he tell you Nova?"

"Tell me what?" 

Miss Esther's mouth opens to begin a response, but is interrupted by the sound of Elvis' voice. We both turn our heads towards him, his hands on his hips with an eyebrow arched at me. 

My mind is puzzled even more by Miss Esther's words, and I do appear to be zoned-out when Elvis looks at me questioningly. I shake my head, "Sorry. . . what were you saying?"

He chuckles at this, "I was asking you if you want anything else. " I approach him and peer at the pastries displayed on top of the round glass trays.  In the corner of my eye, I see Miss Esther walk around and position herself behind the counter as she taps her fingers on the counter - humming a tune. 

"I've chosen two slices of the red velvet cake and two cups of coffee for us. So, anything you wanna add?" He asks, but I freeze at  the mention of the choices he has picked.  He quickly notices this. 

"Why? What's wrong?" 

I shake my head, "Nothing. It's just, um, what made you pick the red velvet cake?" 

"Because what kind of guy does that make me if I don't order it for the birthday girl?" His southern drawl evident, as his lips pull into a crooked grin.

It's a dream. It's a dream. It's a dream. Is it really?

A chuckle escapes me in disbelief, "I- I have no words. Red velvet is my favorite." 

A dream is a product of my subconscious mind, so of course Elvis would know this because everything about who I am is stored within the corners of my mind. All of this has to be a dream. I created this all. Well, my subconscious mind did. 

Miss Esther suggests her special pie that I 'must' try, in which I was hesitant at first due to my nature of not being an adventurous eater at all. But eventually I gave in. We insist to wait for our orders, but Miss Esther ushers us to a table near the front window and informs us that she will bring it out to us when it's ready.

"Well, she is the boss." I chuckle, as we sat down opposite each other. 

"That's Miss Esther for you, the nicest lady but no point being stubborn around her." Elvis laughs, shaking his head. 

A silence falls on us with the only noise being the chatter of the other customers occupying the cafe. 

I don't want to wrestle with my thoughts anymore, it might cause an unfortunate headache which would ruin this dream. I think out of the million questions that ares swimming in my head, there is one that I can keep whilst filtering out all the rest; why is Elvis Presley in my dream? I understand that dreaming about celebrities  is not an experience that is uniquely for me because everyone dreams about celebrities. But I always believed that, if someone were to dream about a celebrity; it would often be a celebrity that they have spent a lot of time thinking about. A celebrity that they are a huge fan of. 

I'm not a huge fan of Elvis Presley, but I am also not a hater. I only just begun learning about him after watching that Elvis movie that came out in the summer. But for him to appear in my dreams? It was not like he was actively occupying my mind throughout the day; because he wasn't. 

It just does not make sense. No matter how much I try, I just keep running back to square one. I guess the only thing that calms my rational mind is that this dream will end eventually, might as well make the most of it. 

As I return my gaze on the present time, I study him. His black hair matched perfectly with his tanned skin, and those smouldering blue eyes with that twinkle of wonder and amusement in them. His features are chiseled, a maturity to him that eliminates the baby fat on his face. He does not have that boyish look about him anymore, there is sureness and confidence that comes from maturity. 

I pursed my lips in wonder.

"What is it , honey?" Elvis asks, snapping me out of my stare on him. 

"Hmm?"

"I ain't a mind reader. Would you tell me what's going on in that pretty mind of yours?" Elvis smirks, biting on his bottom lip. 

I feel  a rush of heat on my cheeks, as I try to fight back a smile. 

"My goodness, you are such a flirt." 

He leads forward a little and holds his hand up as if to count on his fingers, "So now I'm a psychopathic, impulsive, flirty guy? Hot damn." He jokes, letting out a whistle. 

"You really are a wild combo." I squinted my eyes jokingly at him, pointing my finger at him. 

He suddenly leans forward even more, and without any warning - bites onto my finger. I yelp in surprise, his eyes stare at me intently as I giggle uncontrollably trying to retract my finger. 

"Hey!"

He lets me go and casually leans back on his chair with his arms folded over his chest, a laugh bubbling out of him. 

I cannot help but join him in his laughter, it's a laugh that just really encapsulates his entire being. His shoulders moving up and down, as he looks up and then gazes back down to me. 

"You are a strange, strange man." I said in between my laughs. 

"Gotta keep things interesting, honey."

Before I could respond to him, we are interrupted by Miss Esther approaching our table holding a tray of our order. She places it on the table, and transfer the contents from the tray, in which I notice a candle on top of the slice of cake in front of me. 

"Enjoy, kids." Miss Esther smiles and then rubs my shoulder, "Happy birthday, sweetie."  

"Thank you, Miss Esther." 

"Thank you Miss Esther, this looks good." Elvis says. 

She then leaves and Elvis turns to me, "Are you gonna make a wish?"

I close my eyes and think for a second. . .

I wish to have the answers to my questions. 

I open my eyes and blow out the single candle. 

"Happy Birthday, Nova." He smiles at me, and it's not a smile that stops at the lips. It's a smile that reaches his eyes, it's the kind that you cannot help but smile back. 

"Thanks, E.P." 

His blue eyes widen a little in surprise, and my forehead creases in surprises and confusion. Where did that come from? Why did I call him that?

"You haven't called me that-"

I wave my hands quickly in embarrassment, "Oh god, so sorry I don't know what came over me."

"Relax, darlin'. Relax. It's okay." Elvis shrugs, chuckling. I see him lift his hand, as he nervously scratches the nape of his neck, "I was surprised, that's all. You haven't called me that in a long time."  His tone seems to be in a daze. 

I squinted at him, "What do you-"

Elvis clears his throat and turns his gaze to the food on the table. 

"We should eat." He interrupts, "and you have to try this pie!" He takes a bite out of the slice of cake and then the Banoffee pie afterwards. 

I shake my head at this and remind myself 'do not think too much of it Nova.' I first take a bite out of the red velvet cake and the familiar luscious delight makes me beam. It was always either chocolate or red velvet for me, I've tended to switch between the two for each of my previous birthdays. 

I take a small portion out of the Banoffee pie, as Elvis anticipates my reaction, "What'd you think?" 

"Oh my gosh, that is amazing!" I exclaimed, quickly taking another bite out of it.

--

After we finished eating, we bid goodbye to Miss Esther in which she wishes for us to come back soon. And I truly do want to, but this is not real life. 

We step out of the cafe with Elvis ahead of me, he stops and faces me. 

"I have a birthday present for you." 

"You do?"

He nods, "So we need to get to where it is." 

"How?" 

He flashes me his signature smirk at my question, in which I panic a little, "Oh no, what do you have planned now?"

He tucks his hands into his front pockets, facing away from me and began to walk across the street. 

"Elvis! Where are you going?" 

He briefly turns to me and uses his head to beckon me to follow him. I sigh and follow him into yet, another unknown. 

"Wrong question, honey. It's where are WE going?"

--

"Nova? Nova?" 

A hand is rapidly shaking my arm, I gasped bolting my eyes open. I blink my eyes a few times and survey my surroundings; beige walls, photos, posters, a closet. It seems to be that I am laying down, my hands move around and feel soft material beneath it; my bed. I am in my bedroom. I slowly slide myself up in a sitting position. 

"It was a dream. It was all a dream." I mutter to myself, swallowing hard at the realisation. 

"Of course it was, you nutcase!" I turn to my right and see Luke with his backpack slung over his shoulder, holding a jug of water. 

I yawn, "Luke? What?" 

"F.ucking hell, woman! I have been trying to wake your ass up for the past, " He pauses, looking at the watch on his wrist, "Fifteen minutes now!" 

I shake my head a little, "Why?"

He takes out his phone from his pocket and faces the screen to me. It's Monday. Monday which means we have a lecture today. 

"Oh s.hit." 

"Exactly! You better get dressed now, or I will be using this jug of water after all!" He threatens to spill it on me. 

"Okay! Okay. I'm up." I get up from the bed, rush to my closet to retrieve the outfit that I have planned a week ago and then rush to my bathroom with a quick shut of the door. 

It's not that Luke particularly cares about being late for class, because he doesn't. It's just that the seats in this specific class become full very quickly, and the only unoccupied seats that would be left are the ones at the very front. Ones that both myself and Luke hate since this particular professor just loves to aim the questions at the people in front row. And there is no room for error; this professor wants the right answer. If you are not precisely providing him the right answer - it is the humiliating. That is why the very back row is the safe haven in this class. 

I plop my clothes on the bathroom counter near the sink, as I start to brush my teeth. 

"Luke, I am so so sorry! This never happens."

I hear Luke pacing back and forth outside the door. 

"It never does which makes me think. . . " Luke gasps, "Were you having a s.ex dream?" Luke questions in a hush whisper, his pacing steps stops. 

"What?! Oh god, no!" My cheeks flare up in embarrassment at the thought. 

"You sure?" 

I shake my head, even though he cannot see me. 

"I am positive, Luke!"

"Positive that you were having one or positive you weren't?" He asks further, his voice closer now as I imagine him closer to the door. 

I quickly finish changing into my clothes and swung the door open as I brushed through my hair. 

"I did not have a s.ex dream. "

He puts his hands up in defence, "Just making sure. I mean, even if you did - I would not be the one to judge you, bestie. I myself indulge in my own share of pleasurable dreams, so-"

I shut my eyes and wave my hands, "No, no, no. let's drop it now, okay?"

Luke laughs at my reaction, "Alright. But you can't blame me for asking though since I have never seen you in such a deep sleep. Plus,  you did have a really big smile on your face." He arched an eyebrow at me with an amused grin, teasing me. 

"I did?" 

"Uh-huh. Like a child on Christmas morning. You were glowing, missy." He elbowed me playfully. 

We exit the apartment and make our way to the parking lot. As I close the door to my car, all that fills my mind is the fact that for the first time in my lifetime; I can remember it all. I remember my dream. Every detail, and it is so vivid in my mind. 

It was so real. It felt so real. 

I let out a deep sigh, and start the engine as I turn the radio on. I reverse out the parking lot, as Luke drives closely behind. 

"Good morning to all our listeners. Ah, Monday. Another week continues! If you are a student dreading the classroom, or an office worker mustering the strength to get though that 9 to 5 routine - we are here at HITS 101. Bringing you all music that will get you through whatever the season. Now we have requests coming in very fast. Our first request is an old, but gold tune. This person requested this to be played for their friend whose recently celebrated their birthday. Here is A Little Less Conversation by The King, Elvis Presley!" 

I almost slammed my brakes. 

next chapter

Yours Truly - Chapter 5: Questions, Questions, Questions

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

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

・❥・Word Count: 1.8k

・❥・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. speeding lol, minor character injury, quite angsty.

|chapter index| prev | chapter 6

--

NOVA

A sharp gust of wind blew past me, its never-ending force meeting my skin. It was difficult to adjust to my surroundings, for all I saw is the landscapes flying by past me. Then it occurs to me - I am on a moving vehicle. And I am most certain the person operating the said vehicle - is him. 

"What the hell?!" I exclaimed. 

"Hold on, honey!" With his response, I circle my arms around his waist tightly. 

I have heard of Elvis' love for vehicles. His iconic Pink Cadillac was only one example, but I have heard of his collection of hundreds of cars and evidently-so, his love for motorcycles it seems. 

"Since when did you have a motorcycle?" I inquired, trying my best to level my voice to a volume that he will hear me, despite the encompassing wind. 

"What?" He countered back, briefly turning his head to me before refocusing back on the road. I attempt to repeat my question, but know that he could not hear me - so I focus on stabilising myself on the speeding vehicle and frantically try to distract myself on the fact that this is happening. 

I feel my heart beating loudly against my chest, like it's a beat away from truly escaping out of it. I have steered clear away from motorcycles in my life so far. They are the epicentre of everything that symbolised danger and higher chances of the safety line being crossed. I enjoy my peace and my safety, thus I never saw the appeal of riding a motorcycle. 

Elvis' howling laughter shakes me out of my thoughts. 

"Woohoo! Ain't it fun?" He doesn't turn his head around, but I can sense that he is grinning from the pure sound of glee in his voice. 

I shake my head and then realise that he can't see me. 

"You are crazy!"

He increases the speed which I did not think was possible from the rate that he was going, but it was. My eyes shut with the veins of fear gripping onto me, like it always did. At least maybe with my eyes closed now, it wouldn't be as frightening and we will get to where we are heading soon. I feel my hands tighten around his waist, in desperation that I do not fall off this motorcycle. 

The universe must've heard my prayers as before I knew it, the pace slowed down and the gust of the wind slowed. The motorcycle stopped. I hesitatingly open my eyes to confirm that we have in fact stopped. 

Elvis put the brakes on and swung his legs off the motorcycle, standing up. This is when I briefly realise what he is wearing. A classic black leather jacket, with a black turtleneck underneath and black pants to match. He swiftly took off his helmet, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his hair briefly. 

How is he so good-looking? 

It really is unbelievable. 

"You need help, doll?" He smirks, that annoying smirk of his. 

"Huh?"

"When you are done checking me out, I can give you hand off the motorcycle. If you'd like." He chuckles at me. 

 I feel immense heat rush up my cheeks. I am horrified.  Was I really staring at him for that long? Nova, get yourself together. 

"I - I wasn't, " I stammered in which he rose an eyebrow at me, "Oh, shut it. I can get off this fine."  I said before he approaches me. 

Frankly speaking, it does suck that I am shorter than him. Tall people really do have the advantage of a lot of things. For instance, getting off a motorcycle does not require taking multitudes of time trying to get your feet to reach the ground. A problem that I am encountering as of now. 

"Are you sur-" 

I cut him off with my hands up at him, "Yeah, I got th-"

My sentence is cut off by the imbalance of my body, as I feel my body met the ground. That f.ucking hurts. Ouch. 

I hear Elvis rush to me, "Nova? Are you okay?!" 

I feel him take the helmet off me as he places my head onto his lap. His hands gently cup my face, and its contact does not go unnoticed. His hands are cold, but nevertheless, the fact that his skin is in contact with mine - it leaves me breathless for a brief second. 

Wincing at the pain, I try to open my eyes and see his blue ones meet mine. His once carefree smirk is gone, and is replaced by a frown and concern swimming in his eyes. 

"You are so f.ucking lucky that I landed on grass and not concrete!" I scold at him, hitting his arm with my hand lightly. 

He is confused at first, but then releases a sigh of relief. He shakes his head at me, "Hey lady! Here I am checking if you are hurt and you. . ." He trails off, but a smile is slowly creeping up on his lips. 

"I'm real glad I found you, Nova." 

I squint my eyes at him, "Elvis, you keep saying that. But you won't tel-"

"We are going to need a band-aid for your knee." He confirms, as he rolls my jeans up slightly to check my leg.

--

Pastel colors of orange, pink and purple adorned the canvas of the sky. The gentle sound of the water harmonised perfectly with the breeze of the trees. I sighed in the tranquility, and leaned back on the wooden bench. 

"This is nice."

"Yeah, it is. It's the quiet that I think every person needs once in a while." Elvis says, his gaze thoughtful as he looked at the glistening sun's reflection on the lake. 

"Very true. Especially after falling off a motorcycle," I emphasised jokingly. 

He turns to me and puts his hand up in mock-surrender, "Honey, I offered to help and you declined." 

I rolled my eyes at this, "Fine. I'll give you that. But you better explain to me why were we on a motorcycle in the first place?" I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Didn't you say that you wanted to be a little more reckless, live a little?" 

"No, I didn't." 

But I did. Yes I definitely did. But I didn't verbalise it out loud. I said it in my mind when I blew out the candles at my birthday party. 

"Yeah, you did."

I don't argue with him any further and instead move on to a different question. 

"I have a question."

"Okay," He smiled, biting his bottom lip, "I'll answer it only on one condition." 

"What?"

"Trust me." 

"But-"

He moves closer to me, and holds my hands, "You and I both know that you wished to live more spontaneously. To be more open to new experiences and just live. I can help with that, and I promise you with all my heart that I won't let you get hurt, Nova. I know that there's that band-aid on your knee, but that is because of your own stubbornness."

My lips fail to stop the smile on my lips. 

"Okay, Elvis." 

He releases a sigh in relief, and he releases my hands. 

"I want to ask my first question now." 

"Go ahead." He smiles, although he is no longer holding onto my hands - he is still very much sat right next to me on this bench. There is literally no space between us. 

"How is this happening? I mean, how are you here again? I thought dreams are one-off. They don't continue like this." 

He shrugs, "I don't know, honey. I guess the boss up there owes me a favour." He points to the sky and chuckles. 

"Elvis!" I groaned, slightly annoyed. 

"Nova!" He grins. 

"Answer me seriously." I say. 

"I am, I swear."

I thought for a second. 

"Okay. How about this; I ask a question and you can only answer with one word." I say seriously, trying to decipher if he will agree to this. 

After a little back and forth, he finally agrees to this. It will give me a peace of mind. It has to. Because at the moment, this is not making any sense. Weren't dreams supposed to be different each time we dream? We don't continue of the last dream, don't we?

"Am I dreaming right now?" I take a deep breath, awaiting his answer. Although he kinda answered this before on our initial meeting, I want to ask him again. 

"Maybe."

He's playing safe. 

"Why are you in my dreams again?"

"Promise." 

I furrow my eyebrows at this. Promise? 

"What do you mean?"

"Uh-uh. Only one word, honey. remember?" He smirks. 

I sigh frustratedly and continue on, "Was your song playing on my way to lectures this morning. . . was that a coincidence?" 

"Nope." He shakes his head, more amused than ever at my confused features.

"Did you like the song by the way? It's not as known as my other songs. But it was a fun song from my movie called 'Live a little, love a little'." 

I freeze. He really-

"Are you real?" 

For the first time in this line of questions, Elvis simply nods and does not verbalise a response. 

"How do you know me?" I ask, and sense his body stiffen. There is that tension in his shoulders. 

"Let me rephrase that. . . who am I to you, Elvis?" I ask nervously. His features are etched with seriousness, and for a second I see a glimpse of an internal battle with himself. He opens his mouth to respond, but closes it once again. He looks away for a second and closes his eyes, exhaling. When he meets my eyes again, his eyes are red with the evidence of tears trying to break out.

I have never seen him cry in this short time I have known him so far, and I suddenly feel guilty for asking this. 

"Elvis. . ." 

I feel a tightness in my chest. 

"Nova. Please, please. . ." He bits his lip, holding back tears, "Please ask me something else." I notice that his hands are back in holding mine. But the hold is not gentle like before, this time it's like he is clutching my hands. Like when you are holding onto something to give you strength. 

I feel my throat dry. Suddenly, my mind is empty of any questions.

"Do you know how to swim?" I smile at him. 

He breathes a deep sigh of relief and chuckles, and I feel my chest become lighter to hear him chuckle. 

"Yeah."

"Good because I don't." I laugh. 

next chapter

Yours Truly - Chapter 6: The List

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

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

・❥・Word Count: 2.3k

・❥・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. curse words, description of minor injury, gunshot.

|chapter index|prev|chapter 7

--

NOVA

I smiled brightly and said my 'goodbye' before ending the video call. It was Friday afternoon, and I have just finished the zoom call with one of my students. As a way to make money, I have taken up the role of being an English tutor to foreign students abroad. It was all done online, of course, and the students that I teach are of elementary school age. I am thankful that this option exists, as it makes things flexible for me especially when finals come around the corner. 

I glanced at the clock and see that it has just gone three o'clock. I have extra reading that I could potentially be doing, ahead of next weeks lectures. But I think that it's time for me to relax, and enjoy my time since it's a Friday anyways. 

My phone rings and I answer it, "Hello?"

"I am starving. Please tell me that you are done with your tutoring?" I hear the desperation in Luke's voice. 

I chuckle, "Just finished now. Where do you want to meet?" 

 --

"No more. I am not eating more." I declare, holding onto my stomach. 

"I second that." Luke says, leaning back on his seat staring up at the ceiling.

"Me too." 

The three of us sat in one of the red booths at the place. Both of us decided to meet up at the KFC just roughly ten minutes away from the apartment. It was predictably crowded, as it always is in a fast food chain on Fridays. But luckily, we managed to get a space as I don't think we were in the mood for finding a different place to eat - I could literally hear my stomach rumbling on the drive to the place. Initially, it was just myself and Luke that were going to meet up - but in a surprising turn of events, another person came into the mix. 

Charlotte. 

Unlike Luke and I, Charlotte and I have known each other for what seems like forever. Our mothers have been the best of friends since they were in college, and luckily, we continued that closeness in our friendship. As cliche as it may sound, we are inseparable - like the bond of two sisters. The only time that we haven't seen each other in so long, was when Charlotte went for university abroad. She decided to study in South Korea for university. So, the only ever times that we get to see each other was when she has a semester break. During that time, Charlotte has gotten to know Luke, and unsurprisingly we all formed this natural flow of friendship. 

"I could not believe that we managed to finish all of that." Charlotte chuckles, leaning over to glance at the empty bucket of fried chicken. 

"We are monsters." Luke comments, shaking his head laughing. 

"Well, I only ate an apple for lunch. So that's my excuse, " I shrug. 

I lean over and sip my drink of orange juice, "Not that I don't love you, but why are you here Lottie?" I question, furrowing my eyebrows at her. 

"Wow, Nova." 

I roll my eyes at Luke, "Oh, shut it. I meant to say, isn't it the middle of the semester?" I directed my attention back to Charlotte. 

Charlotte nods and smiles at both of us, "No, yeah, you are right. But they have given us a week off to focus on our projects. So. . . I decided to spend a day or two out of the country." She smiles sheepishly with a shrug. 

Luke turns to Charlotte and dramatically wraps his arms around her, "I am so happy that you are here, Lottie. Nova has been such a b.itch to me!" He breaks out from the hug and fake cries. 

I scoff, "Oh my God, You are such a liar!" I throw a napkin at him, laughing at his dramatics. 

Charlotte flickers her eyes between me and Luke, "I missed you both. But truthfully, I just wanted to make sure that you aren't getting yourself into a shit ton of trouble. " She grinned. 

Luke then leaps into an update about his situation with Matt. About how he has finally managed the courage to tell Matt about his feelings, and ran away very quickly from him. To summarise, Luke has been ignoring Matt for the past two weeks now. His phone has been flooded with endless voicemails and messages on his socials. I mean, I did try to advise him to just see Matt again and end it right there and then. Have that closure, so he does not have to worry about all these methods of Matt trying to reach out. But in the end, Luke decided to leave him a super long voice message. 

"So, yeah, I fucked up." Luke summarises, taking a drink of water. 

Charlotte shakes her head, "I don't think so, Luke. I think you fell for him." She smiles, understandingly. 

That's the thing about Charlotte. She is soft-spoken, but at the same time is not. Ask any advice from her; she will not sugarcoat. But at the same time, she will hurt with you if you are crying. She is both a risk-taker, and holds onto the safety-net of life. I guess that's why she's such a good blend to our small friend group, it's because she is a good mix of both myself and Luke's personalities. She's the balance. 

"Which is exactly why I fucked up. It's not like I planned to." Luke groans, hitting his head on the table. 

"Luke, don't hit your head." I cringe at the sound.

He stops and sits back up, releasing a deep sigh. 

"I don't think anyone ever plans to fall for someone. They just do. It happens." Charlotte began, "And just because he does not feel the same - does not mean it was a crime to fall for him. You said what you had to say, and now you can part ways." She shrugs. 

Luke tilts his head at her words, "You are a wise, wise friend. Both of you are, actually. Why are you both friends with an idiot like me, again?" He shoots us a quizzical look. 

"Who says we are friends?" I joked, laughing and Charlotte joins in. 

Luke mock-gasps dramatically with his hand to his chest, "Are you hearing this, Lottie? After premium friendship services I've provided her. I am deeply, deeply offended." 

Our laughter dies down, eventually. 

"What about you, Nova? Anything new with you?" Charlotte's eyes glint in curiosity, grinning at me. 

Yes. I think so. But should I say it? Or will they both think that I am insane? 

I shake my head, "Not really." 

No, I will not tell them about him. At least not yet. Not until I figure the situation out myself. I'll keep this secret in the meantime. 

Charlotte frowns a little, "Come on, you have to live a little Nova. "

"This is what I've been saying!" Luke says, gesturing towards me. 

"Before you guys attack me, "I speak up, "I will say this. I promised myself on my 21st that from now, I will try to be a little more out there. Key word: try." I emphasised, waiting for their reaction. 

Charlotte claps excitedly, "YES! This is what I've been waiting for you to finally do." 

Luke gasps, as his eyes lit up, "I have the perfect idea. I really am the genius among us three." 

I roll my eyes at him and smile, "Okay. What is it?"

"A list. You need a to make a list of everything that you haven't done before. Like a bucket list kinda thing." 

I pause at his suggestion. They must've sensed my apprehensiveness.

"I don't know, guys. That seems like such a big jump."

"There is no pressure to rush in getting it all done, " Charlotte speaks up, "The point of it is for you to have fun and to try new things. Hell, doesn't matter if it takes you years to get through them." She chuckles. 

Luke gets up from the booth and returns with a napkin and a pen. 

"The point is to simply live." Charlotte says. 

I thought for a second. I guess by making a list, it gives me a sense of preparation. That safety zone of being prepared, and anticipating how things will go. 

With a deep breath and a roll of my eyes, "Fine. Let's do it." I smile at both of them. 

I glance down at the napkin that Luke got and freeze, in the corner of it - there's a faint letter 'E' written down. 

"What's that?" I ask Luke. 

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe someone was trying to write something, but their pen ran out." 

--

After changing into pyjamas, Luke and I meet in the living room of the apartment. 

"Oooh, what are we watching?" I ask, taking a seat on the couch. 

Luke is silent and doesn't respond to me. I look to him and find him with a puzzle look on his face, glancing down at my leg. 

"What?" 

"Girl, what happened to your knee?" He nears me. 

I let out a chuckle, "What are you on abou-"

I don't continue my sentence as I look down to see what he is talking about. I am wearing short pyjama bottoms, and from such a rush to change into them - I didn't even realise what was on my knee. I look down at both of them, there is nothing on my left knee. But as I switch my focus on my other one, there is definitely something there. 

There, on my right knee, is a single small soft-pink coloured band-aid. His voice echoes in my mind, as I remember his words. 

"We are going to need a band-aid for your knee." 

How? 

I carefully peel the band-aid slightly, and right there is the aftermath of a slightly scraped knee. A scraped knee that did not happen in this world. It happened in the dream world. Then why is it on my body here?

"I, uh, I was reaching something from the top shelf of my parents' garage and stupidly fell over." I muster up the best excuse I can find. Like I said, I never plan to tell my friends of my dreams yet - let alone the fact that an injury from the dream world has now manifested here. 

I look back up at Luke, and he shakes his head, "Yikes. Be careful."

After watching an episode of 'The Vampire Diaries', Luke and I say our goodnight and head to our own rooms. But I seem to not fall asleep. I am currently staring up at my ceiling, trying desperately to figure out the situation. From my memory, I never tripped over anything the past few days - I am a hundred percent sure of it. So, there is no way that this injury for this injury to exist. But I did fall off the motorcycle in my dream, but-

I need to shut up my mind. This is going to give me a headache. 

The quietness of the night eventually envelopes me, and I slip into the state of peacefulness - into a slumber. Well, not for long. That quietness is interrupted by a sound of a gun firing. I am sure it is a gun, and its sound makes me jump as I open my eyes. 

My gaze readjusts to my surroundings. There is nothing much. There is an absence of landscape, only the presence of sandy grounds and a long stretched-out road. A desert. There is a single tree in the middle of it all, with a familiar figure leaning against it - a silver gun in his hand pointed upwards, a slight smoke still seen in the air as the aftermath and he blows. 

He turns around and meets my gaze, "Sorry to shock you, doll." He grins, and swiftly flicks the gun between his fingers and shoves it in the back pocket of his jeans. 

"Well, you always knew how to make an entrance." I smile at him, shaking my head. 

I decide there is no point in asking Elvis more questions because it gets us nowhere, and actually leaves me with more questions. There is one thing I can confirm now though; this is the third time he has appeared in my dreams. Consecutive times. 

He approaches me and is now standing right in front of me, "And you always know how to find me, hi again." He smiles, biting onto his bottom lip and I cannot help but look into his eyes. 

"Hello."

Elvis takes something out of his front pocket and its familiarity makes my eyes widen. 

"So, I see you've made a list?" He questions, holding up a napkin. 

On the napkin is the list of that Luke, I and Charlotte made earlier. The list of things I want to try. It is the same napkin that we wrote on, the exact same. And it even has the faint writing of the letter 'E' on the corner of it. 

next

Yours Truly | Journal entry no. 1

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

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

・❥・Word Count: 491

・❥・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.

・❥・ Author's Notes: So this is a peek into what Nova is thinking at this point. This is a supplemental material to the on-going series 'Yours Truly' therefore, DO NOT read this unless you have read the between chapters 1-6.

|chapter index |prev|next

--

AN ENTRY FROM NOVA'S JOURNAL 

November 22 , 2022

Dear Journal, 

I know that despite buying this journal a while ago, I have never really written an entry in it. I've written quotes that I found from books and maybe my favorite songs. But I've never written a proper entry. I like to think that people write in their journals when something interesting happens in their life, and honestly-speaking, my life is not very interesting. 

But something happened. Suddenly. And I guess this is the point where I think it's only right for me to make this my first journal entry. 

On my 21st birthday, I made a promise to myself that I will try to take more chances. Which I know it a big statement for me. But I will try to do this. Luke and Charlotte helped me make a list. So in some way there is still order amongst the point of being spontaneous. 

I've been having dreams recently. Not normal ones I believe. I've been having consecutive dreams for the past week now. In my dreams, this man appears. He first appeared in my dreams on the night of my 21st. It gets crazier. I know that people dream about celebrities all the time, even more-so when people have a crush on a celebrity. But this is when it gets strange.

Elvis Presley appeared in my dream. And people can say that dreams don't make any sense anyways. But I never really thought about Elvis Presley. I mean, sure I watched the biopic of him when it was released during the summer and that was the first time I really learned about him. But for him to suddenly appear in my dreams? Consecutively? 

It gets crazier. 

Each time I wake up from these dreams, I remember everything. Every detail. Every conversation that I have with him in the dream. I am usually a person that looks for logic and scans a situation to know what's going on, but this makes me dumbfounded. 

Our conversations - they sound normal. like a normal conversation you would have in real life. But there is something more, something that I don't know. It's strange because Elvis, the way he acts, it's like he knows me. Certain details about myself and the way he is around me - it is like he has known me for so long. And I know that can easily be explained by how there is a part of the human brain that subconsciously generates personal dreams. 

But I just have this doubt inside of me. Something is going on, and it frustrates me to no end that I don't know what that something is. 

He says that he'll help me experience the things on my list, the goal of living life to the fullest. To try new things. So I'll try and focus on that instead.  

After all, dreams are just dreams. . . right?

Till next time journal. 

Nova. 

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