Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Unchained Melody - Elvis

A/N: y'all why have sad ones just been hitting different for me. Didn't have time to edit so I'm sorry! This song makes me SOB

You never seemed to understand art all that well. You knew when something was pretty, at least to you, and you knew when something was unique. But you couldn't explain why a Picasso painting was iconic, or what made his art even good in the eyes of others. So you just stood staring at the strange face of mismatched shapes and colors.

Your high school had taken a school field trip to the museum in Washington DC. A bunch of schools from the South were there, but your friends were looking at the statues or war memorabilia. You were interested in that stuff of course, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the art pieces. History you could understand, enjoy even, but this didn't make any sense to you. You almost wished that by staring at it more you could gain some sort of secret understanding that you weren't privy to at first. But it never seemed to come to you.

"Pretty picture," a nasally voice said from behind you, and you turned to see a short boy from one of the other schools. He was muscular with large teeth and an eerie look in his eyes as he looked between you and the painting.

"I s'pose," you answered, looking back at the disfigured face on the wall.

The boy stepped forward so he was beside you. He was too close to you, you could feel the warmth of his body on your arm and you brought your hands to your lap to make yourself smaller. His hair was choppy and he licked his lips before he spoke again, "you're sure pretty."

You just swallowed, looking away. You did not want to give this boy the time of day. When you didn't say anything he scoffed, "ain't you gonna say anything back?"

"What should I say?" You snapped, finally looking at him.

"You should say thank you." He gestures to his mouth full of gawky teeth, "And you should smile, you look prettier when you smile."

You scowled, straightening your skirt and turning to leave the empty corridor. The boy reached for your arm, holding it tightly, "where you think you're goin?"

"Let me go," you said, trying to wrench your arm from his grasp but he wasn't budging. He had a glint in his eye, a glint of excitement.

"Jeremy says you got a good mouth on ya Y/N," the boy said, his grip still firm. Your eyes widened. You hadn't done anything with Jeremy, but he had cornered you one day asking for a blowjob and you spat in his face. You guess the memory never quite left him.

You stiffened under his touch, trying to pull away more. The boy didn't drag you to him but he didn't let you leave and your eyes began to look around nervously.

"Y/N! I've been looking for you everywhere." A deep voice said, echoing through the empty corridor. A handsome young man you didn't recognize came around the corner, reaching for you in a friendly manner.

The other boy dropped you, saying with a peeved expression, "Elvis."

The boy, Elvis, just shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the other boy. He stepped close to you, but not to be creepy, he was trying to put his body in front of you. You let out a breath when you realized he was just trying to protect you.

"Whatcha doin?" Elvis asked, glancing back and forth between you and the boy.

"Just talking."

"Mm," Elvis nodded, looking at you directly. He pointed a thumb in his direction, "this bozo been 'talking' to you?"

"Careful who you call bozo, homo."

Elvis placed a hand over his heart, "I'm so sorry, you're right, you're no bozo. Y/N, is this jackass talking or is he stepping his foot somewhere he ain't wanted?"