you're elvis's childhood best friend, and he's been in love with you for as long as he can remember. his mother and father keep trying to push him to finally make a move, what with you being the only girl that they would ever approve of their son go...
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Over the year that he spent working with Crown Electric, Elvis claims that he had driven just about every inch of Memphis. He knew every road like the back of his hand. He had made constant deliveries, going from one site to the other, even stopping in residential neighborhoods where the electricians were busy at work. He had driven a work truck for hours on end to help make ends meet, but you couldn't help but find it undeniably attractive, what with the carelessly professional way he operated a vehicle. He was effortlessly good at it, like most other things. He seemed to notice the flush on your cheeks, because his lips were quick to quirk up into a little smile. He knew all the tell tale signs of your interest. He knew the difference between you looking at him because you loved him, and then when you looked at him because you wanted him. You were giving him one of those looks. He licked his lips, giving your hair a soft tug. It made you choke on a gasp. "Why are you lookin' at me like that, darlin'?" Your eyelashes fluttered as you stared over at him. He found it impossible to deny you of anything when you looked at him like that. Your eyes felt heavy on him, your thick lashes brushing against your brow bone as you stared up at him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hesitantly letting go. "You're makin' me want to turn back around." He mumbled under his breath, flashing you a nervous smile. No matter how famous, how rich, or how well loved your fiance was- only you could make him nervous like this. He had assured your parents that he only had eyes for you, and again and again he had proved that to be true.
The two of you continued the rest of the drive to famous Beale Street in tense silence. Every once and a while you would look over at him, only to catch him staring at you out of his peripheral vision. His smile would widen, his blue eyes would sparkle with that oh so familiar sense of mischief, and he'd be quick to glue his eyes back on the road in front of him. It was rude to brag to others about your sex life, but it was wonderful enough to want to talk about it. The fact that you had gone a few days without giving into your more hedonistic needs made it hard for you to keep away from him. He was in the exact same boat, and though he'd like nothing more than to turn right back around so that he could shack up in bed with you, he was aggravated and had a lot on his mind. He wanted to be able to give you his full attention.
The second that he had parked his car, a crowd had steadily gathered around the two of you, fans of his music quickly reaching out, trying to get an autograph or handshake. Unlike earlier at the gate, Elvis took his time signing as many pieces of paper as he could, going as far as to converse with a few people as the two of you walked. Being on Beale Street was second nature to you, as was hanging out around Club Handy. The two of you, back when you were nothing more than mischievous high school kids, used to dream of the day you'd turn twenty one so that you could frequent the club. The both of you had stars in your eyes when you thought of the wildly talented B.B King. You both would excitedly describe your weekend, bragging to your classmates about running into the musician, only to be met with judgment. Elvis, unlike other white artists, didn't pretend to be blind of what was going on in the world around him. He didn't pretend to like or even support the bigotted and unjust segregation laws. He had pushed the Colonel to allow him to play more shows at venues that people of color could attend without backlash, but the older man was strict on the fact that "Elvis wasn't a politician. He was an entertainer." You, however, felt like those two professions were one in the same. Elvis had a voice, and that voice meant something. People listened when Elvis spoke.
