Girl of Mine

Chapter 19 - Flash

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Rosalie POV (Sal)

Walking the streets of Madison, passing blues, pinks, yellows, and orange buildings with sidewalks painted in newly fallen snow, we hid our hands in our coat pockets—shielding the heat we had left the best we could. The fall had left us both in frozen states, from the flip of hands dusting off powered snow covering our coats, shoulders, and hair before it melted. Not at all styled to Elvis' preferences, his locks looked to have a mind of their own. Looking at Elvis and his hair, I pressed my lips together to avoid smiling. Elvis' lip curled as he shook his head at my demeanor. «Careful, darlin'.»

Unable to keep my lips in one flat line, a slight hum escaped as I breathed out of my nose. Chuckling next to me, Elvis' hand found my dangled and far too long and loosely fastened scarf to throw at the top of my head. «In a short while, you would have stepped on that scarf and tripped yourself down to the ground—again.» He said humorously as he took on the walk to move himself to the outer part of the sidewalk as a car passed us.

Gazing at him with the tendency to a sly smile, my lips parted. "I'd blame you—I've been wearing this involuntarily since you forced me to bring it."

«Oh, I'm so sorry for mummifying you; I can see how forced you felt as you nearly dropped it in the snow.» Stopping in his tracks, Elvis' hand went for his chest with an overly heartfelt presentation of his apology with his eyelashes catching crisp snowflakes.

As his curled lip returned after a look of theatrical guilt, I noticed we were not alone. Our conversation had gotten an audience as my eyes went to gather the four girls showing up out of nowhere, surrounding us, and a car backtracking to gawk upon Elvis.

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Spending the day out and about when being Elvis Presley turned out to be a lot more difficult than you'd think. Wherever we went, people just seemed to find us. Flocking around us, wanting either a picture, an autograph, a hug, a kiss, or to even just touch his hair—girls surrounded him. Some kids even dared to walk up to him.

Staying on the sidelines by the shut-off round fountain in the central park of Madison city, I watched the very caring boy talk to everyone who wanted to meet him. Seeing his usual cover story page in real life was something far different from what you'd expect. His smile was never-leaving, his eyes bright and words kind. He listened with the intent of remembering and never seemed to get absorbed in self-centeredness. He kissed a few girls on their cheeks and let them kiss his', and one or two got a kiss on the corner of their lips, and I couldn't help but think about poor June enduring this on a daily basis. He had always been quite generous with his lips.

Although him cheating was technically true, I could see that nothing about this was at any time romantically inclined. It was pure kindness, giving back to his fans. Somewhere between his striking smile, autographs, and kisses, I saw moments of panic where it got too much for him. What brought him to me this summer was clearly right under the surface of his skin. He just didn't have it in him to put himself first and walk away from a fan. Only when free of commitments and alone he got the strength to put his needs first. I'd seen it on our past days and heard in each phone call, as he had allowed himself to let go when with me. Don't get me wrong, though; he loved being with his fans. He couldn't believe why he'd been chosen to be this guy, to live this life.

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Having rented out a café to get a hold of a late breakfast, the doorbell rang as we headed out the three steps leading down to the sidewalk—finally full after a couple hours of constant meet and greets on our way over here. Warmth left us as the outdoors had a wave of calm, icy wind.