The room was dim, heavy with the smell of stale smoke and sweat, curtains drawn tight against the Memphis night. The only light came from the soft glow of the lamp on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the messy bed, the tangle of sheets, the clutter of pill bottles and half-drunk glasses.

Elvis was a wreck.

His hair stuck to his damp forehead, the collar of his robe hanging loose, chest rising and falling too fast. His skin was pale beneath the flush of feverish heat that clung to him, eyes glassy and wild, pupils too big for the light in the room.

And then the door cracked open, and she stepped in.

His girl. His anchor. His everything.

Elvis saw her and something in him just broke.

He stumbled forward, unsteady on his feet, arms out like he couldn’t get to her fast enough. The world tilted a little with each step, but he didn’t care. His hands were shaking, fingers twitching like they needed to touch her, to make sure she was real.

“Baby,” he breathed, voice hoarse and thick with whatever cocktail of pills was foggin’ up his mind. His lips curved into a sloppy, desperate smile as he swayed toward her. “Oh, God, there ya are... I was—I was just thinkin’ ‘bout ya.”

He got close enough to catch the faintest trace of her perfume, and it near drove him mad. His hands hovered near her waist, not quite brave enough to grab hold, but wanting to—aching to.

“You’re so good, y’know that? So good t’me... I don’t deserve ya.” He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes, a soft, delirious laugh tumbling out. “You come in here lookin’ like that, like somethin’ outta my dreams, and I—Lord, I don’t know what I’d do if ya ever walked out that door and didn’t come back.”

He swayed closer, breath warm against her cheek, his voice dropping to a near whisper, like he was tellin’ her some holy secret.

“I’d go crazy without ya. I would. I’d tear this whole damn place apart. They’d have to lock me up, baby, ‘cause I couldn’t stand it. You’re mine, y’hear me? Mine... ain’t nobody gonna take ya from me. Nobody.”

His hands finally landed, trembling as they rested against her arms, fingers curling just enough to feel that she was solid, that she was there. His gaze was fever-bright, unfocused, but locked on her like she was the only thing tethering him to this earth.

“I love ya so much it hurts, honey,” he breathed, voice cracking at the edges, a mess of need and worship. “You don’t even know... You don’t even know what you do t’me."