Elvis Presley Imagines

This is living, baby.

|| Heyo. This story had to be published around April, May, but between exams, summer and holidays, I couldn't be able to update since I had no connection for my computer and on my phone, it's so hard to use GIFs. Anyway, here it goes. P.S: Elvis isn't famous. ||

It is 1962.

You are awakened by a loud knock on the door of your Bed & Breakfast. You, your mom and your uncle are the owners, since your father escaped with another woman when you were little. Your mother had to find a way to earn money while staying with you at the same time, so she opened this Bed & Breakfast, sometimes turning it into a Motel, which would have given hospitality to every ranger that came across, or even everybody who just wanted to see the woods behind your building.

You stand up from your bed, wearing your pink lace and silk robe, yawning and passing a hand through your messy, bed hair. The knocks get louder and louder when you make your way down the stairs. "Coming!!" You yell, wondering why your mother and uncle didn't open. Once you reach the main hall, you roll your eyes since the new client is still knocking. "I'm here! I'm here!!" You yell again, before unlocking the brown wooden door and opening it.

Your sight drops on a tall, handsome man. You take a moment to look at him from head to toe. His hair is chestnut brown, his roots are blond - you can see it from his eyebrows, which lead to a pair of beautiful, deep, ocean blue eyes. You are shocked when you see the length of his black eyelashes. His skin is quite tanned, yet you can tell that he comes from a white family. His nose is perfectly straight and symmetrical, while his lips are plump and pink, something rare in a man. He might be the most masculine boy you've ever seen. You look down at his clothes, he's wearing a beige army uniform. 

"Hi. Is this the Y/L/N Bed & Breakfast?" He asks. The stranger has a very southern accent, which combines perfectly with his deep voice. You're blushing, so you shake your head and open the door wide to let him in. "Y- Yes. Come in, please." You say, looking down while the man walks in the building. You walk behind the counter where you keep the money, reservation plans and room keys. "How can I help you?" You ask, putting your glasses on since you are as blind as a mole. "I just came back from the army service, and I'd like to stay here for a while until I find myself a new job." He explains, leaning in with his elbow on the wooden counter. "Alright, I might need your name and personal documents to make the reservation." You tell him, picking up an empty paper and a pen. "Oh- Sure. My name is Elvis, Elvis Presley. Here are my documents... Uh, the passport and the drivin' license." He says, handing you his passport and the driving license. You look at him and take only the passport. "This is fine, thank you." You kindly reply, taking note of your client's personal information. 

"Well, well, well?" You hear a voice coming behind you. You turn around and smile. "Hey, uncle Jesse. Nice to see that you're up." You say, smiling and handing the passport back to the ex-soldier. Your uncle looks at him and takes a sip from his coffee. "Who are you, kid?" He asks, rubbing his scruffy beard.