"Tell me what happened, soldier."
You were the ideal nurse in Elvis's eyes. Pretty, big eyes and a soft voice that sped up the curing. For a while the brown haired male stared at you, his uniform half-off for his examination. You had seen plenty of strapping men come and go in the two seasons you had been studying in Germany, but none that had caused such a stir as private Presley. And it seemed that among all the fuss, the star had managed to hurt himself.
Only, where?
You skimmed and scanned all the visible surface area on Elvis's body.
"No bruising. . . No obvious strain. What is wrong with you, Elvis?"
"The fact I don't know your name, honey." He spoke up. His accent was like back home and it made you warm inside (and on your face, where he could see).
"Whatever's wrong with you, I know it's not your eyes(!)" Referencing Elvis's record breaking, but never breaking, eyecontact. With that, you pointed to your namebadge with a single, white gloved-finger.
Evis's features softened as he read for a second. His eyes flickered back up. Surely he had read it before now, but wanted a unique introduction that differed from the inescapable instance when everyone has their names sewn-into their shirts.
He breathed gently as he sounded out: "'Mary Jane Caster'."
The smile that came across your face was inevitable.
"That's fitting."
"What is?"
"Caster. I've bust my leg, you see, Mary Jane."
Your smile was now growing, and you bit down on it slightly.
"You haven't broken a thing yet, Elvis."
"How 'bout I do? Then w-would you take my clothes off for me?" Elvis was a tease, but behind it all ultimately very shy if you could believe it. He was perhaps comfortable with the flirting because he knew he was in safe, professional hands.
You looked down on Elvis, who had his large hands holding his weight up behind him as he leant on the mattress, so nonchalantly. He had this fleeting puppy fat that was endearing; yet a sharp, strong jaw on the horizon that compelled you to believe that each time he clenched it his capacity for deep, intellectual thought was widened.
You aimed to stay proper.
"Head-Nurse Neil doesn't abide timewaisters." You tutted in a taunting, playful way.
"I-is that why you're the one gets stuck with all the 'goo-goo eyed G.Is'?" A chuckle softened the edges of his speech. He was articulate - despite the stutter. His diction was still very charming, seemingly in its adolescence.
Leaning to soak a rag in warm water, feeling it expand in the sink before you squeezed the excess back out again, you humoured him.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"C'mon." He laughed "Half the guys 'round here are giving themselves splinters just to get a check-up from you. And the other half are banging their heads together!"
You pursed your smiling lips and nodded slowly, not in agreeance, but as though it helped to process all he rumoured.
"So what I'm hearing is, Elvis," wiles turned on, you leaned in close to him, dabbing his forehead with the wet towel with all the care in the world.
"That there's nothing wrong with you?" Your arms resumed straight to your sides and you raised a brow at the faker.
"Nothing that can be fixed with modern medicine." He was cute about the whole thing, looking down and spreading his palm over his knee. He patted it once or twice with a fist before smoothing one side of his hair from front to back with a swift glide.
When he stood, he suddenly shrunk you. Consequently, you almost skidded backwards in your nurse shoes to compensate for the room he overtook you with.
"Careful!" Elvis's reflexes caused him to reach out for your shoulders. As he clutched you before you could go flying - you noted his agility. He smelled of something you could only identify as divine. Like nutmeg and musk.
"Mmm. . ." It was hard for either of you to hide there, with your bodies pressed together.
Goosebumps became apparent on your arms at Elvis's touch.
Cause: rapid decrease in temperature or strong, intense feelings such as fear or excitement.
Well, Elvis's hands certainly weren't cold.
Concerned, Elvis took notice and rubbed his warm hands up and down your arms quickly, as one would do if out in the Winter snow. All the while he stared at you, his eyes smiling but face serious. You gulped.
This kindled a warmth inside you that was indescribable, and you wished he'd never stop. Your eyes flickered up to his own.
"Elvis-"
