Wish Upon A Star

Could I? Should I?

I wake up, I'm freezing and uncomfortable. I keep my eyes shut tight, not wanting to fully wake up yet, and shuffle trying to get comfortable. I feel something tighten around my waist as it groaned behind me. My eyes fly open and I look up. I am face to face with Elvis' closed eyes. I blink a few times and take in the scene before me.

We are still in the living room on the long white sofa. I am stretched out along it with Elvis stretched out next to me.

This sofa is deceptively wide if it can fit both of us on it.

His arm is tight around my waist, keeping me from falling off the edge. The room is dark with only a soft glow coming from the kitchen which lit up Elvis' face enough for me to see he was sleeping soundly.

What the fuck?

Panic rose in my throat. I could
Not be cuddled up to Elvis. He was a married man!

Not yet.

Alright, we'll basically married. I couldn't fuck that up. I push the panic down and try to control my breathing. I couldn't deny being held by him was everything I'd ever dreamed. I feel soft, warm and safe. Even after tonight's revelations, he was still holding me. I couldn't understand it.

I reach round behind me and slowly find his hand. I gently shuffle so his fingers are no longer curled around my waist and lift his hand up slowly while attempting to quietly push myself away from him. I end up on my knees next to the sofa and place his hand down gently on the spot where my body once was, next to him. I let out a breath I didn't realise I had been holding and sit back on my heels. I look at him for a few more moments.

Who would have thought I'd ever end up here? Bloody heck. My auntie would have forty fucking fits.

I can't help myself. I reach out and brush my fingertips through his hair. It's soft and thick like I always thought it was.

Oh man. This can't really be happening can I?  I need a cigarette.

I get up and look down at Elvis who is still completely out even though I've probably made a lot more noise than I thought. I look over to the coffee table and see a little orange bottle. I put it up and inspect the label.

Elvis Aron Presley Placidyl 500mg

I sigh. I knew I'd see this at some point. I know this is the sedative Elvis took. I know it is powerful and dangerous. My hand shakes as I unscrew the cap and tip a few out in my hand. I stare at the large red pill as my mind throws me backwards.
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"What has she taken? What the fuck has she taken?" I hear Steph scream over me but it's hazy, it sounds like I'm underwater.

"I don't know! I went and did a line. When I came back she was out of it. She's done a few lines with me, but that wouldn't do this..." Ben's voice cuts into my seashell hearing.

I try to lift my hand to wave them away. I want to be alone but I can't lift my hand. It's too heavy.

"Oh god. She's taking those sleeping pills. Holy fucking shit she's taken them!" Steph sounds further and further away.

I slowly nod keeping my eyes shut trying to embrace this euphoric floating feeling I wanted to achieve.

"At least she's still somewhat conscious. You shouldn't have left her alone."

I took three pills. I wanted to sleep, I wanted the high and they were pissing me off with all this panic. I am fine.

Their arguing voices fade and the calm envelopes me and I lose all consciousness.
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