"I'd be Elvis," he answered quickly, exhaling his smoke to the cloud-polluted skies, ending off with a dashing grin that would forever be ebbed into my mind. "Definitely not Elvis!" I objected and he chuckled, "because, y'know, you don't swing your hips like he does." "You haven't seen me," Alex smirked with a titled head and handed the Dunhill back to me. He walked off and left me with a goofy smile that I wasn't going to get rid of until I planted it against his breathtaking face.