Elvis One Shots/Imagines

It's Midnight - Elvis

A/N: Request by @LxserOlivia I've done an Austin one with this song, now it's Elvis's turn! One shots based purely on songs are my fav so that's for the creative freedom

You turned restlessly in the bed, trying to find some comfort in the late hours. The moon shot through the windows, casting the room in a silver glow. It was brighter than you thought. Even when you closed your eyes you felt as though its rays slipped beneath your eyelids.

This hotel bed was uncomfortable. The sheets were tucked too tight in and you couldn't pull them free, the comforter scratchy, and the pillow was miserably warm. You laid on your back, blinking up at the ceiling, imagining you were home. Elvis beside you.

You imagined he was kissing you goodnight, his breath minty from toothpaste and body warm as he slid in next to you. He wasn't on anything, he wasn't away or sad or too tired. He was there and he was with you, and he loved you.

You felt the tears roll off your cheeks and into your hair, but you didn't have the heart to wipe them away. In your perfect world, Elvis would be free from the pills that seemed to capture him. But life was far from perfect, and it's how you found yourself lying still in a hotel room not far from Graceland. You had to leave. If not for yourself, but for Elvis.

The phone of your hotel room rang, making you jump in surprise. You glanced to the clock, midnight. Why would anyone be calling you at midnight? Maybe it was you couldn't sleep, maybe it was because you were emotional and vulnerable, or maybe it's because you had a feeling that you knew exactly who would call you at midnight that compelled you to pick up the phone.

"Hello," you said, your voice raw from emotion and lack of use.

"Baby..." the voice answered. Thick, Southern, and mournful.

"Elvis?" Your voice was full of shock and your heart jumped inside your chest but you tried to remain calm. "What's going on?"

"It's getting late and I know," he paused and laughed a sad, bitter laugh. "I know that's when I'm weak."

You stayed silent, holding your breath as though it would interrupt him.

"Funny how things have a way of looking, so much brighter in the daylight," he said. You could picture him alone in his room, silk sheets around him as he clutched the phone. Elvis's cheeks always got real red when he was upset and you imagined it wouldn't be much different now. "I was hopin' to go to bed and try to straighten out my head. But... baby, it's midnight. And I miss you."

"Oh..." your chest was heavy and your eyes burned and you needed to hold onto something otherwise you might fall so far you'll never come up. It didn't matter whether you were with him or not, to hear him sound so broken was destroying you.

"Maybe it's too late. Sometimes I even hate myself for loving you, the way I do."

You had to be strong for yourself. Had to make the hard decisions for yourself. So you cleared your throat, "Elvis, I think it's best you get to bed."

"You don't get it, Y/N. I can't stop myself. I keep wishing I could be the man I try to. And I know you're hating me for wanting you. To be with you knowing you don't love me like you used to."

"I don't hate you." Stop, stop, stop. You needed it to stop. You needed his pounding voice to come to a halt, for those emotions to stop breaking you. It seemed each word he said clawed inside your chest, pulling at your heart until it was a mangled mess. You wanted to scream and cry and hug him and break something all at once. It was overwhelming, he was overwhelming.

"I miss you."

Your voice cracked and you tried to contain the sob, "I miss you too."

"It's midnight, and I miss you."

Sometimes you have to make decisions for yourself, to protect yourself. You hung up.