Secret Love - The King & His Forgotten Queen (E.P)

Stay There, Big Boy

“I can’t believe how different you look!” Elvis said, resting his elbow on Demi’s dressing table. She’d invited him to stay while she prepared for the fashion show’s after party. “Well what did you expect? The last time you saw me, I was 9-years-old and didn’t have a curve in my body.” Elvis wasn’t sure how to respond. He didn’t want to sound overly sexual if he was to respond, making it clear he had noticed her womanly figure. So he stayed silent. “You don’t look any different.” Demi mused, looking at him as she pinned her hair up. “But you haven’t seen me since…” Elvis began. “I’ve kept up. I went to see Jailhouse Rock and your other movies. I bought all your LPs and 45s. I was even in Germany when you were.” “You were? Why didn’t you come to see me?” Elvis asked. “I was modelling and I didn’t think that you’d have time to see me.” “I would have made time for you.” Elvis replied quietly. Demi rested her hand on his. “I’m just glad you’re here now. I hadn’t forgiven you for leaving me back then so I probably would have just slapped you and walked out anyway.” Elvis moved his hand and intertwined his fingers with Demi’s. “I’m sorry for leaving. But we had too.” “I know. I know you did. But, at 9-years-old, I didn’t understand that. All I knew was that my best friend was leaving me. It probably didn’t help that I was madly in love with you.” Demi started applying her makeup. Elvis smiled. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a little girl’s crush?” He asked. Demi chuckled. “Maybe. But it felt like the real thing at the time.” Demi finished applying her makeup and rose from her seat. “Now you just stay there, big boy. I’m going to get my dress on and this is one female you ain’t gonna see without her clothes on.” “What do you think I do in spare time?” Elvis exclaimed, laughing at Demi’s wicked sense of humour. “Oh I know. I have friends.” Demi replied, disappearing behind a changing blind. After a few minutes, she reappeared. Wearing a strapless black cocktail dress, she looked stunning. But she was holding it up at the front with her hand. “Maybe you’ll get to see a little of me after all; could you do the zipper up, please?” Elvis stood up, a little too quickly, and walked over. Demi turned around, revealing the back of her lacy black bra – black to match her dress in case of any mishaps, lace because it was pretty – to the already on edge Elvis. With his hands trembling, he managed to zip it up without hurting her. “Thanks, E.” Demi said, turning around again. Using Elvis’s shoulder as a way to balance herself, she put her high heels on and was ready to go. “Oh shoot!” Demi exclaimed. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she noticed a few strands of hair had escaped from her bun. “I’ll have to fix. What would Momma say…?” Just as she reached up to beginning pinning up her hair, Elvis took hold of her hand. “No.” He said quietly. “Why not?” Demi asked in the same hushed tone. “It suits you. Makes you 10x more beautiful than you already are. And honey, you sure are beautiful.” Demi left the room in a daze, with Elvis’ hand in hers and the loose strands of hair still around her face.