Born Too Late [Elvis Presley]

Chapter 13: Too Pretty to Cry

Two days later

Penny Jones

I take a drag from my cigarette, inhaling the smoke deep into my lungs. My eyes close and I bask in the feeling of the boiling heat from the sun beaming down on my skin. It's like heaven.

My dad left an hour ago to go to Uncle Buddy's place, so Elvis is coming over here to watch a movie tonight. My dad said he's just going to stay over because Uncle Buddy's hosting a poker night and it'll probably go on for hours.

That's code for I'm spending the night with my secret girlfriend.

I don't mind that my dad hasn't told me yet, though. It's obvious, so I don't know how he doesn't know that I know, but my dad will tell me when he's ready. As long as he's happy and whoever this woman is treats him well, then I'm happy too.

I suddenly feel a sharp shooting pain in my stomach, and I blow out the smoke from my lungs with a little more force than usual as I wait for the pain to pass. When it eventually does, and I lay back in my chair, my body relaxing once again.

But the feeling of relaxation doesn't last long, and I nearly double over in pain when I feel an excruciating cramp in my lower stomach. I sigh, stubbing my cigarette out. I can't be getting my period. Not tonight. I'm supposed to be spending tonight with Elvis, and I can't do that if I'm curled up in pain with cramps.

Think positive, Penny, I think to myself as I walk into the house and towards the bathroom. Think positive.

But it seems my positive thinking is no use because my suspicion is soon confirmed. I have started my period.

I clean myself up and make my way upstairs into my bedroom. I take the telephone off the receiver and dial Elvis's number, bringing the telephone to my ear.

"Hello?" Elvis answers after a few rings.

"Hi, honey."

Elvis must sense the disappointment in my voice, and I let out a breath when he asks, "are you okay, baby?"

"No, actually. I feel horrible."

"Aw, honey, what's wrong with ya?" Elvis asks, his voice laced with concern.

"Nothing. I just-uh-I just don't feel great." I try to sound as convincing as possible. I don't want to gross Elvis out by telling him I got my period, so I'll spare him the details. "I'm gonna have to cancel tonight, I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry, baby. It's okay," Elvis says, and I smile at how understanding he is. I take a sharp breath in through my teeth when I feel another sharp cramp in my stomach, the smile wiped straight off my face. "What's wrong?" Elvis asks, concern evident in his voice.

"Just a cramp," I say through gritted teeth, rocking back and forth on the edge of my bed to try and relieve the pain.

"You have cramps?" Elvis asks.

My cheeks flush with head in embarrassment. "Yeah," I say. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to freak you out-"

"I'll be over in ten minutes." And the line goes dead before I can protest.

Why is he coming over if I'm on my period? I ask myself. I'm certainly not going to be much fun with the amount of pain I'm in right now.

But sure enough, ten minutes later, there's a knock at the front door. I throw one of my dad's old t-shirt's on and a pair of satin pyjama shorts before I make my way downstairs with a lit cigarette hanging from my mouth.

I pull the front door open and within seconds, I feel tears brimming in my eyes when I find Elvis standing there with flowers and a huge box of chocolates in his hands. A look of sadness takes over his face when he notices the tears in my eyes. "Aw, darlin'," he steps inside, setting the flowers and chocolates down on the table to my right, right beside a photo frame with a picture of my mother and I in it. Elvis takes my face in his large hands, his thumb gently wiping a tear from my cheek. "Come on, sweetheart. You're too pretty to cry."

I let out a breath and some smoke trails out of my mouth - and the cigarette hanging from it. "I'm sorry," I say, taking a breath in. Damn hormones. "It just is really sore." My lips tighten around the cigarette hanging from my mouth as I take a long drag, inhaling the smoke deep into my lungs in attempt to ease the pain. Elvis gently wipes my tears with the back of his fingers.

"What'd I tell ya, baby? You ain't have to say sorry." Elvis says. "Stop hurtin' those pretty lungs." He pulls the cigarette out from between my lips and I blow out the smoke, watching as he stubs the cigarette out on the ashtray which sits on the table beside the flowers and chocolates. We seem to have ashtrays everywhere in this house.

I pick up the flowers and let my gaze run over them. They're irises - my favourites. I let my eyes fall closed as I hold the bunch of flowers beneath my nose, breathing in the beautiful scent. I smile softly as I look down at them, feeling Elvis gently run the back of his fingers across my cheek.

"You didn't have to do all this, Elvis. Thank you so-"

"Uh-uh, none of that, baby," Elvis says. "You ain't have to thank me." I smile, in awe of his kindness. I wrap my arm around his back, the side of my face falling against his chest as I hug him. He wraps his arm around my back, leaving a kiss on the top of my head. "Now lets get you feelin' better, yeah?"

I smile, pulling back. "Just let me put these in a vase-"

I can only take one step before Elvis grabs my hand, pulling me back. "I'll do that, baby," he says. "You jus' go lay down, okay?"

I smile softly, "okay." And with that, I make my way upstairs into my bedroom. I get into my bed, laying curled up on my side. It's not long until Elvis steps into my bedroom holding a glass of water the box of chocolates. He sets the chocolates down on my night stand beside the telephone and hands me the glass of water.

"Here, honey." He drops a couple of painkillers into the palm of my hand and I place them in my mouth, washing them down with some water. I wipe my lips with the back of my hand when I'm done and Elvis takes the glass from me, setting it down on my night stand.

"Come lay down with me," I hold my arms out towards Elvis, who smiles softly, slipping his shoes off before getting into bed beside me. He presses a kiss onto my forehead, draping his arm over my waist. I throw mine over his shoulder, beginning to gently play with the hair at the nape of his neck. His chin rests on top of my head, my face nuzzled into his chest. "You're so warm," I say against his chest.

"Good, 'cause you're always cold."

My eyebrows knit together, "am I?"

"Yeah," he says, running a hand over the back of my head. "Always feel like I gotta warm ya up."

I smile at this. "My own personal radiator."

Elvis leaves a kiss on the top of my head. "Is that all I'm good for?"

I breathe out a laugh through my nose, "you know that's not true."

~

Sorry this was a bit of a shorter one. Hope you enjoyed the fluff anyway!