Just a bunch of imagines about the King, Elvis Presley. I have read another compilation of imagines and that inspired me to write one too. Thanks to @applehead7122009 for the inspiration. Let me know how you like it!
|| Hello! I wanted to let you know that Elvis is not famous in this story, but still he is good at singing. Also, I will use some gifs that have girls in them, just because I want to show the action he does.||
Autumn, 1969.
You wake up from your afternoon nap, still feeling mad and frustrated over your recent break up. Everything you do reminds you of him, you thought he was the one for you, yet you found out he was the exact same as the others: he used you. You shake your head in anger and stand up from your white sofa, feeling a little dizzy since you got up too quickly.
You walk to the kitchen and open the fridge, taking out a bottle of water and pouring the liquid into a big glass. You drink, closing your eyes and trying not to think about your ex boyfriend. You place the glass back on the counter, walking towards the window and taking a look at the city of Memphis. This gets you even angrier, since he has his medical studio in front of your house.
You don't see him walking around, so you breathe a sigh of relief. You step back from the window and walk to your room, making your bed and choosing a new outfit for the day: light blue blouse, blue jeans and blue flats. Blue is your favorite color, the color of his eyes. You sigh and sit on the bed, resting your head on your hand as you still feel some sparkles for him. You left him, you thought he cheated on you and blamed him without having any evidence. A flashback suddenly hits your head, causing you to feel a little nausea.
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Elvis is shaving his face as he always does in the morning. You are making the bed, feeling a little frustrated. He never helps you doing such things. Nevertheless, you keep doing your business until he calls you in the bathroom. "Y/N, darlin'." He says, still precisely shaving his facial hair. You step into the bathroom, smiling nicely at him. "Yes, my love?" You reply, walking towards him. He doesn't even look at you, since he is concentrated on what he is doing.
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"D'you think you can go to the grocery store and take some food?" He asks you, with an attitude of nonchalance towards you. Something starts boiling inside your body, from your bones to your skin, passing through the veins. Your hands are surrounding the laundry basket's handles, having a strong grip around them. Suddenly, your face turns grumpy as you voluntarily drop the basket on the floor, immediately walking out of the bathroom.
