Heartbreak Hotel

Drifting Seas

A few days had passed with new stones placed down. Elvis and Priscilla had gotten breakfast together a few times, each being a delight for both. When he wasn't with Cilla, Elvis spent the time with Tom, smoking cigarettes mostly but there was the typical conversation about music, too. Tom had asked him how Priscilla was, and Elvis knew he was being polite, but he felt a sudden burst of emotion and he let it touch him.

"She's fine, thank you," Elvis said, perhaps a bit curtly.

"That's great." Tom took his time to stub out his cigarette, pretending to have his eyes on the floor when he was really watching Elvis and the way his shoulders had tensed slightly at his question.

"Yeah, sure is." Elvis sighed.

Tom rested his elbows on the table. A fresh cig dangled between his lips. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, it's nothing important." He said the words as if they were a sentence, but they sounded like two opposite thoughts to Tom.

"Well, it has to be if you brought it up."

"Yeah, yeah, alright." Elvis chuckled. "I'm just homesick."

Tom was quiet. It had been quite a while since he had felt homesick himself; the emotion was buried in some faraway, locked-off memory he longed to visit even as he knew it would pain him to do so.

"I guess we all get that way," he mused. "Don't you call your family every so often or something?"

Elvis nodded. "But the bill goes up a bit per call...I suppose I could always write letters, but you don't exactly get to hear voices through writing."

Tom grinned. "At least letters are free, minus the stamp."

"Of course. How could I forget the stamp?" Elvis slapped a hand to his forehead in mock-disbelief. "It's only the most important part!"

Tom laughed and Elvis joined him.

"It's really not that much per call, though, anyway," Elvis was telling him once he had caught his breathe a bit and his laughter had died down.

"Yeah, I guess not." Tom lit a cigarette, only Elvis smelled something other than smoke.

His nose wrinkled, he asked, "What's that?"

Tom did not answer, but passed one of the cigarettes over. "Here, try it for yourself."

Elvis lit it and placed the cigarette between his lips. He coughed and stubbed it out. "That's awful!"

Tom giggled. "Think whatever you like."

He rolled his eyes and looked at the clock resting on the coffee table. "I've got to get going," Elvis said suddenly. He walked over to the door to get his coat. "Priscilla's waiting." He grinned, sparing a glance over his shoulder to see Tom wave at him from where he sat on the couch. The door closed softly behind him.

~

He found Priscilla sitting in the cafe. Across from him was the usual empty seat just waiting for him to occupy it. Elvis smiled and sat. He thought she was beautiful, like a picture of a cherry blossom he had seen in some book somewhere.

Priscilla blushed a little, as if she could hear his thoughts (Elvis hoped she couldn't, even if they were just silly little comparisons of her to flowers, and how he could have bought her flowers - should have - and he had forgotten-!). She returned his smile, and the waiter came by with a glass of water for each of them. She took a sip from it and said, "You're rather quiet."

"I guess," Elvis muttered. He took a drink of water, taking notice that Priscilla was looking at him as he did so. "Do I have something on my face? I'm sorry, that was rude." He felt his cheeks flame up.