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ljones41 · 2 years

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"HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX" (2007) Review

"HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX" (2007) Review I usually try to avoid reading reviews of movies I am interested in seeing. Instead of relying on the opinions of others, I prefer to form my own opinions. However, thirteen years ago, my curiosity had overcame me and I could not help but read several reviews and opinions of the fifth film from the HARRY POTTER franchise - namely "HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX".

J.K. Rowling's 2003 novel had never been one of my top favorites in her literary saga. But after the near travesty (okay, perhaps that description is a bit exaggerated) . . . after the disappointment of 2005's "HARRY POTTER AND GOBLET OF FIRE", I could not help but wonder this next movie would fare. After all, the novel was longer than even the fourth entry. Fortunately, my fears proved groundless and "THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX" has become my third favorite HARRY POTTER movie. Before I begin to wax lyrical over the movie, I need to point out what I consider to be flaws in the movie. My sister had informed me that the producers of the HARRY POTTER movies had originally intended Mike Newell - director of "GOBLET OF FIRE" - to helm the fifth movie. Somehow those plans fell through and they found themselves scrambling for a new director before production was scheduled to begin. They eventually settled upon British television director, David Yates. I must say that for his second theatrical production, Yates did an excellent job. But there is one aspect in which his years in television did the movie a disservice. The pacing. Quite frankly, I found the pacing a bit rushed. The movie felt more like it had a running time of at least 100 or 110 minutes, instead of a movie that was over two hours long. I understand that Yates planned to helm the next HARRY POTTER movie, "HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE", as well. Fortunately, his future HARRY POTTER films proved to be better paced. I also had a few other problems with the movie. One of them happened to be Evanna Lynch, who portrayed the eccentric Hogwart student, Luna Lovegood. Before I receive accusations of sacrilege, please hear me out. Ms. Lynch physically captured the essence of Luna perfectly. And although she managed to convey Luna's offbeat persona in a competent manner, there seemed to be something missing from her portrayal in the movie. Then it occurred to me that there were times when the movie Luna seemed to be devoid of any emotion. She came off as too serene. And as I recalled, the literary Luna was capable of expressing more emotion - including anger at Hermoine's dismissive attitude toward her. And Luna was not the only character I had problems with. Characters like Remus Lupin, Percy Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks and the Blacks' house-elf Kreacher; barely seemed to exist. Lupin's biggest moment came when he tried to prevent Harry from chasing after the murderous Bellatrix Lestrange. One last problem I had with the movie was the lack of closure on a few plot points. We never learned the consequences of Harry's discovery that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Dolores Umbridge's had used veritaserum on Cho Chang in order to coerce her into exposing "Dumbledore's Army" and Harry's lessons. I never understood why Kreacher even made an appearance in the movie, considering he did not seem to have an impact upon the story. The movie failed to bring some closure or allow Harry to discuss with Sirius and Remus about Snape's memories of the bullying James Potter. And what happened to Lucius Malfoy after Sirus or Remus managed to defeat him inside the Ministry of Magic? The movie never revealed his fate. Audiences had to wait until the next film. Despite the above flaws, I enjoyed "ORDER OF THE PHOENIX" very much. It still managed to be a more than satisfying summer movie. The original novel happened to be the longest in the entire series. Yet, screenwriter Michael Goldenberg managed to pare it down to the novel's main narrative. I suspect many HARRY POTTER fans would have preferred an exact adaptation of the novel. Thankfully, Goldenberg spared the movie audiences of what could have been a long and excruciating period in the movie theater. To this day, I still believe that "HARRY POTTER AND THE SORCERER'S STONE" and "HARRY POTTER AND THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS" could have faced a little more editing. And some of the changes made to the story - Neville Longbottom's discovery of the Room of Requirement (instead of Dobby the house elf); no visit to the St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries (along with no repeat appearance of Gilderoy Lockhart and Neville's parents); Neville's own revelation of his parents' fate to Harry (instead of the discovery being made at St. Mungo); and Cho Chang's exposure of the Dumbledore Army (instead of Marietta Edgecombe committing the deed) - did not hurt the story at all. However, I am certain many fans would disagree. What made "ORDER OF THE PHOENIX" work for me was the combination of a mystery regarding Harry's connection to Voldemort and the growing fascist state at Hogswarts that also reflected within the Wizarding World under Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. I have to commend both Yates and Goldenberg for skillfully weaving these two elements within the movie's plot. The movie also benefited from excellent acting by the cast. In fact, I found this to be a great relief after suffering from the hammy acting that permeated "GOBLET OF FIRE". Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint as Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were top-notched as usual. And so was Matthew Lewis as the likable, yet clumsy Neville Longbottom. I especially must commend Radcliffe for conveying Harry's angst over Cedric Diggory's death from the last movie and frustration at being ignored by Dumbledore. And I want to sink to my knees and give thanks to the spirits above and David Yates for preventing Emma Watson, Michael Gambon, Ralph Finnes, Jason Isaacs and also James and Oliver Phelps from repeating their over-the-top performances in "GOBLET OF FIRE". Oh, such a relief! On the other hand, Helena Bonham-Carter's portrayal of the insane Bellatrix Lastrange did seem over-the-top. But considering that the literary Bellatrix was equally hammy, I had no problems with this. By the way, I must applaud Imelda Staunton for her delicious portrayal of "Miss Hitler in Pink" herself, namely the ladylike, yet poisonous Dolores Umbridge, a Ministry undersecretary who became the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. In the novel, she is described as being toad-like, yet Ms. Staunton is obviously a more attractive-looking woman. But despite this, she managed to capture Umbridge's insidious and bigoted evil beautifully. However, the movie's piece de resistance - at least for me - happened to be the battle that took place inside the Ministry of Magic. I must confess that the literary version of the battle usually left me slightly confused. I guess I simply found it difficult to visualize what took place. But Yates' direction not only clarified the entire battle for me, it left me feeling thrilled beyond measure. In my opinion, the battle had catapulted in what I now feel is probably one of the best sequences filmed in the entire movie franchise. It was simply superb. Yet, there are other little golden moments in the film that I managed to enjoy: -the Dumbledore Army's Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons -Ron stands up to Seamus for Harry -Filch's attempts to get inside the Room of Requirement -Ginny's jealous glances at Harry and Cho -Dean Thomas' (Alfred Enoch, who had more lines in this movie than the last two combined) argument with Umbridge -Hermoine's handling of Gwarp (different from the novel) -the fact that both Ron and Ginny helped Neville and Luna escape from Draco and the Inquisitor's Squad (I could be wrong that Ginny helped; if so, please inform me) -Harry and the Order of the Phoenix's trip to London via broomsticks And one of my personal favorite moments in the movie turned out to be Fred and George's torment of Umbridge before making their escape from Hogwarts. Classic moment. "HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX" possessed have some flaws that prevented it from becoming my favorite HARRY POTTER movie so far. "HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN" still holds this title as far as I am concerned. But I must admit that back in 2007, I had felt reassured me that the movie franchise had not declined following the slightly disappointing "HARRY POTTER AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE", thanks to Michael Goldenberg's screenplay, excellent performances from a cast led by Daniel Radcliffe and David Yates' first-rate direction.

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venus-haze · 2 years

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In the Mood for Love (Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: Elvis breaks up with you just as his career is taking off, as if your support for him meant nothing. You finally manage to work through your heartbreak and start what you think is a new chapter in your life with someone who seems to understand what you’re going through. After two months of guilt and regret, Elvis returns to Memphis to find that you’ve apparently moved on, but he’s determined to win you back.

Note: This is based off of an anonymous request. Reader is gender neutral. I listened to the soundtrack from In the Mood For Love (one of my favorite movies ever) while writing this, and Frank is inspired by Tony Leung’s character Chow. Please let me know what you all think. Requests are open🔮 Do not interact with my blog or posts if you are under 18 or post ED/thinspo content.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating. Some jealous behavior, but nothing disturbing.

Walking up to ‘Miss Louann’s Dance Studio’ as the sun set purple behind you, you felt your stomach flip at the prospect of stepping out of your comfort zone. You signed up for a beginner’s Latin dancing class on a whim, wanting something to take your mind off of Elvis, your boyfriend of two years, breaking up with you as soon as he started getting famous.

Even if you ended up being terrible at it, you hoped a new hobby and making new friends would be a step in the right direction of getting yourself out of the funk you’d been in for the past two months. You’d go to work and feel sorry for yourself, come home and cry yourself to sleep, and be an absolute drag whenever you went out with friends because inevitably his music was playing somewhere. If anyone but your ex had recorded ‘Heartbreak Hotel’, you’d probably have the record on non-stop. You decided enough was enough, and you needed to move forward with your life.

The dance class was held twice a week in the evenings, which fit in perfectly with your work schedule. The modest dance studio showed signs of wear, especially on the wood flooring with grooves and scuff marks from years of dancers moving across it. Miss Louann had opened the studio after the war, and it seemed like she hadn’t updated anything since.

You set your bag down next to the others that were piled against the wall. Scanning the room, you noticed a mix of a few dozen couples and singles, all appearing to be in their late teens to mid-thirties. You walked over to a small group of people, awkwardly introducing yourself. To your relief, they were all friendly, and you enjoyed the casual conversation with them.

Miss Louann walked into the studio wearing a bright red dress with ruffles at the hem, her matching heels clicking against the floor. Certainly a bold look, but she caught everyone’s attention right away.

"Circle please, my dears! I want to see everyone’s lovely faces!" she declared, her voice as loud as her outfit. "Since this is a large class, we’ll skip over introductions, which is a shame because I’m extremely nosy and like to know as much about people as possible."

This brought on chuckles and laughs from the other people in the class. You liked Miss Louann already.

"If you currently do not have a partner, please raise your hand so I can pair you up. Now, the person you’re partnered with may rotate, depending on the number of people in the class,” she said, “but if you don’t mind being paired with a person of the same gender, I certainly don’t have any objections. C’est la vie!"

You lifted your hand. You didn’t care whether you were paired with a man or woman, truth be told. Miss Louann busied herself with partnering people up, while the couples who’d come together took their places on the floor.

"Your name, dear?" she asked when she walked up to you.

"Y/N," you answered.

"Y/N, let’s see which of these bums is good enough for you, hm?" she joked as she scanned the men standing around without a partner. There were a handful more women than men in the class, but some of the girls seemed to know each other already and paired up anyway.

Miss Louann’s eyes lit up, and she waved her manicured hand. "Frank, dear, you’ll be Y/N’s partner."

Frank gave you a warm smile as he walked over to you. He was handsome, with a boy next door look that immediately endeared you to him. Not as handsome as Elvis. You shook the thought from your mind. He was the last person you wanted to think about.

You and Frank stood next to each other as Miss Louann explained the basics of Latin dance, having studied it as she lived in various parts of South America before the Depression. Even then, she said that the style was diverse, ever evolving, that you could never truly stop learning. She demonstrated a simple dance to start, one to get everyone into the rhythm of the music and dance style.

"This first class isn’t about how good you are. I want you to have fun tonight," she said. "Now get to it!"

You turned to face Frank, who held his hand out for you.

"Sorry in advance if I trip you up," he said.

"I’ve never done this before either, so no judgment," you said.

During your dance together, Frank confessed over Nat King Cole’s cover of ‘Quizas quizas quizas’ that he joined the class to get his mind off of a recent breakup with his longtime girlfriend. You quickly divulged that you were there for almost the exact same reason. Strangely, you felt comforted knowing you were lonely, but certainly not alone. You spoke with Frank as you danced, getting to know each other better. While he told you that his ex was named Cynthia, you didn’t tell him your ex’s name. After all, how many guys named Elvis were walking around?

The class ended far too soon for your liking, but Frank offered to drive you home, which you gladly accepted. You knew how it’d look to have a guy dropping you off at your place late at night, especially one you’d only just met, but for the first time in weeks, you arrived home in a good mood. Your parents were visibly relieved when you walked in with a smile on your face, chattering on about how fun the class was. They’d expressed concern for you, but you’d brushed them off, wanting to wallow and mope instead. It was nice having something to look forward to again.

You ended up becoming friends with some of the people from your dance class, much to your delight. While none of you were trying to make it professionally as dancers, it was fun getting together to practice at the nearby park and then go out to eat or get drinks afterward. Even though everyone came from different backgrounds, you at least had the dancing that brought you together.

You and Frank especially grew close, spending more and more time with him outside of class. Usually the two of you would find a diner that was open 24/7, spending hours talking over baskets of fries and glasses of milkshakes. You felt validated knowing that your response to the breakup wasn’t an overreaction, that he’d felt the same hurt and betrayal you did and sunk into a hole of loneliness and depression he never thought he’d claw his way out of. His ex-girlfriend Cynthia had cheated on him with one of his best friends, just as Frank was saving up to buy a ring and propose to her. He spent the money on the dance class instead.

He spoke about Cynthia the same way you did Elvis, a nostalgic bitterness at the heartache, unable to even appreciate the memories of the good times without falling to pieces, and the knowledge you’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if given the chance. Frank was honest and sensitive, and you found yourself developing a bit of a crush on him from how much you’d opened up to each other in just a few weeks of being friends.

One night, when your parents were out late, he brought over a new album of assorted Spanish-language songs specifically for Latin dancing. What began as just listening to the album turned into impromptu dance practice, until during one particularly slow and sensual song, he boldly dipped you, kissing you sweetly and softly. It was like a scene out of a movie, and definitely not unpleasant, but you didn’t feel anything like when Elvis kissed you, where it seemed like nothing was real except you, him, and the butterflies you felt in your stomach.

From the disappointed expression on Frank’s face, you could tell the kiss didn’t live up to his expectations either.

"Do you still love him?" he asked softly.

"Yeah,” you answered. “Do you still love her?"

"Yeah."

You sat down on the worn-out living room couch with him. "You know how he broke up with me to focus on his career," you said.

He nodded. You trusted him, but you didn’t want things to change between the two of you if he knew who your ex was. "Well, up until about two months ago, I was in a two year relationship with Elvis Presley."

"You’re kidding. The guy who does the thing with his hips and all that? I think one of my sisters has a poster of him in her room."

You laughed. "He sings too. Just when he started getting really famous, he dumped me. Said it was better for business if he was single, or something," you recounted sadly.

"I’m sorry, Y/N," Frank said. "I like you a lot, but if you’re not ready to be in a relationship, I’m happy to stay friends. I don’t think I am either, to be honest."

"Thank you, Frank," you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "You’re a good kisser, by the way."

"Good to know," he said with a smile.

Things were going well, you were nailing the new dances Miss Louann taught, so much so that you and Frank spoke about signing up for the intermediate class together.

You’d be glad to keep going to Miss Louann’s, and especially to spend more time with Frank. You did hang out with some of the other people from the class on your own, but none of them seemed to understand you like he did.

During one of your days off from work, you were running errands before meeting with Frank. In the produce section of the local grocery store, you ran into Gladys Presley. You’d been avoiding the Presleys since Elvis dumped you. His parents had always been kind to you, and you knew they had nothing to do with the breakup, but it was still too close to him.

You gave her an awkward smile, unsure how to respond when she went marching over to you. She engulfed you in a hug, kissing your cheek.

“Y/N, honey, how are you?”

“I’m good, Mrs. Presley,” you said. It was weird to call her that, early on in your and Elvis’ relationship, she said you could just call her ‘Mama’ too.

“She must really like ya,” Elvis had whispered to you, a bright smile on his face.

Her expression fell a bit, “We miss seein’ ya around, but I understand, honey. And believe me, I raised my boy better than to do you like that. It’s that damn Colonel–”

“I know,” you assured her. “How have you been?”

“Well, worryin’ myself sick,” she sighed. “He calls but you know him. The Colonel’s got him workin’ like a dog and all the press does is say he’s some delinquent. Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t talk so much. I have missed seein’ you, Y/N. You should come by for dinner sometime.”

“I’d love to, but I started taking a Latin dance class recently. Just to do something different,” you said with a shrug. “So I’ve been busy with that most evenings now. Some of us practice at the park up the street from the apartments.”

“That’s nice, honey. I’m glad you’re doin’ good.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Presley. It was great catching up with you.”

“You too, Y/N,” she said.

You walked down to an empty aisle to silently congratulate yourself for not breaking down when she mentioned him. Considering it a win, you treated yourself to a carton of your favorite ice cream, throwing it into the cart with a smile.

Meanwhile, in a roadside motel somewhere in Alabama, your ex-boyfriend was not having as good of a time of things as you were. He thought that the regret he felt at breaking up with you would go away, like the Colonel said, but he couldn’t get you off his mind, except when he was on stage. Even then, he found himself instinctively looking at the crowd for you.

He had fans waiting outside of his motel rooms at all hours of the night, but he felt so deeply alone, like it threatened to consume him. He often found himself dialing the first few digits of your phone number before hanging up. It was a mistake. You were the one, and he blew it.

During his frequent phone calls with his mother, he resisted the urge to ask about you, but this time he couldn’t help it. He was going home for the first time since he broke up with you, there to stay for a few weeks while the Colonel worked out his next album and supporting tour schedule.

"How’s uh—how’s Y/N?" Elvis asked.

"Y/N? You know, I ran into them at the grocer’s just the other day, and they said they started takin’ a Latin dancing class. We don’t see much of them anymore, though, Bewbie," Gladys said.

He sat on the motel bed, bewildered. He didn’t even know you liked Latin dancing, you’d never mentioned it once while the two of you were dating.

"Bewbie, you still there?"

"Yeah, I’m here, Mama."

"Darlene across the hall, she told me that she’s seen Y/N all over town with this boy they met dancin’. Think his name is Hank? No, Frank! And she said that she sees them dancin’ most every night at the park, you know the one right up the street here."

“Every night?”

“They sure are.”

"Well, I’ll be home for the next few weeks. Maybe I could see them there.”

"Bewbie, I love you, but the way you broke that sweet thing’s heart? I thought I raised you better."

"Mama, the Colonel said—"

"I don’t give a damn what that man said! A person’s heart is not somethin’ to be toyed around with, ‘specially not one like Y/N’s," she said, before letting out a wistful sigh. "Y’all woulda given me the cutest little grandbabies."

"Mama, c’mon," Elvis groaned.

"You made your choices, now you gotta live with it," she said.

He quickly ended the call, lying back on the motel bed as he processed what his mama said. You going out dancing, and with a new guy at that. He couldn’t just sit around at home next week knowing he had the chance to make things right.

Of course, it was near chaos when he arrived home. He could hardly get to the front door of the apartment building, and was stuck signing autographs until his mama pulled him inside, shouting for everyone to go away. It was nice to be home, in his own bed and eating home-cooked food, but he kept looking at the clock, wondering what time you’d be likely to go to the park.

Around 8, he told his family he was going out. His mama gave him a warning glare, which he tried his best to ignore as he left. He was glad to find the emergency exit of the building open, so he could slip away without causing another scene with the handful of fans who were still waiting outside for him.

The park wasn’t far, only a few blocks from where he lived. The night air was cool and refreshing against his skin as he walked.

He noticed a dozen or so people sitting around one of the empty basketball courts. An older looking couple had a portable record player with them, along with a stack of albums. From a few yards away, he could hear the sound of an upbeat salsa tune, and watched as a couple began to dance. His breath caught in his throat when his eyes landed on what he knew to be you, sitting awfully close to a man. You were focused on the dancers, whispering to the man you were sitting next to every so often.

Elvis moved through the shadows, getting closer to where the group was. He leaned against a nearby tree, hoping to remain undetected by you until he could get you alone.

“Y/N, Frank, you go next,” a young woman called out, appearing to startle you.

“Gracie, do you just like to put me on the spot?” you joked, the rest of the group laughing and making their own comments in response.

“I don’t wanna catch you slackin’, Y/N,” Gracie said with a mischievous smile.

Elvis felt his chest tighten at the sound of your laughter. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it.

You walked under the soft glow of the streetlamp, hand-in-hand with who he could only assume was Frank. You were nervous, he could see the tics from a mile away. Your eyes never left Frank, though. Instead, you put your hand on his shoulder, and he placed his on your waist. A few silent moments later, the song began to play out. He recognized it vaguely. Perfidia.

He was stunned at the way you moved. Confident, graceful, in tune with the music and your partner. He slunk down against the tree, guilt and jealousy washing over him. He could remember when you used to look at him the way you did Frank, like there was no one else in the world but him.

The group clapped for you and Frank, who you hugged tightly. You looked up from the hug to see Elvis standing alone, a few feet behind the group. You blinked rapidly. It had to be a dream, there was no way he was actually there. You had no idea how he’d even know about it, until you remembered you told his mother, who told him pretty much everything.

As you and Frank moved along for the next duo to practice, Elvis walked up to you. You stiffened, squeezing Frank’s hand. Elvis felt a pit in his stomach, did you hate him that much?

“Y/N, I—how are you?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you answered coolly. “Elvis, this is my friend Frank. Frank, this is Elvis.”

Frank stuck out his free hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Elvis said, giving Frank a half-hearted handshake. “You were incredible,” he said, looking at you.

“Thank you.”

"Can I talk to you?" he asked. "Alone?"

You looked to Frank, who nodded, staying behind to watch the next couple dance. You and Elvis silently made your way to another one of the empty basketball courts, the lamp illuminating that court flickering every so often. Shifting uncomfortably, you avoided eye contact with him.

"I didn’t know you dance,” he said.

"That’s because I didn’t, not until a few weeks ago.”

“If I’d known you wanted to dance I woulda—”

"Why did you come here tonight, Elvis?" you snapped.

He scratched the back of his head. "See, I was thinkin’ maybe we could give us another chance. I miss you, Y/N. I shouldn’t have broken up with you.”

You shook your head. Weeks ago you would have jumped at the chance to get back together with him. It wouldn’t be fair to Frank to go back to Elvis so easily, not when you and Frank had been trying so hard to get over past your relationships. You wanted to so badly, though. You still loved him.

"You can’t just come back here and say that. It’s been two months, Elvis. I have something good going with Frank."

"Frank? Darlin’ you only met him a few weeks ago,” he argued in exasperation. “He don’t know you like I do."

"And whose fault is that? Elvis, you made it clear I didn’t have a place in your life anymore."

"Y/N, please, I’ll do anything to get ya back."

"Can you just leave?" you asked, getting choked up by the words you’d dreamed him saying over and over for weeks.

"No, I did that before, and it’s the stupidest mistake I ever made."

"Look, I have to go. Congrats on the new single," you said, running off of the court and back over to Frank.

"Hey, are you alright?" Frank asked, putting his arm around you.

"He said he wanted to get back together," you said, your breath shaky. "That it was the stupidest thing he ever did, breaking up with me. I wanted to just say yes, but—"

"I know," he said softly. "If Cynthia did the same thing, I think I’d go back."

You sniffled. "We’re a couple of idiots, huh?"

"Seems like it," he said. “We’d be perfect together if it weren’t for that.”

You laughed, putting your head on his shoulder as he walked you over to the group, where you said goodbye before leaving with him in his car. Elvis watched the display of affection you showed Frank, feeling jealous yet again.

He shouldn’t have followed Frank’s car back to your place, he knew that. But seeing Frank walk you up to your front door, the two of you talking quietly for a few moments before you kissed Frank’s cheek, bidding him goodbye made Elvis feel like lava was running through his veins. It wasn’t even a real kiss, but he punched the steering wheel in frustration nonetheless.

He watched as you walked into your house, turning to wave at Frank one more time from the doorway before heading in. Frank lingered on the doorstep for a moment before going back to his car. As Frank pulled away, Elvis wondered what was so special about Frank. You’d only known him for a few weeks, but it seemed like you were close. Did he treat you right? Did he think about you all the time? Did he love you?

Elvis hadn’t realized how long he’d been sitting in his car until he glanced down at the clock on the car dashboard. Chewing his bottom lip, his eyes moved back and forth from the keys in the ignition to your darkened bedroom window. Finally, he grabbed his keys and got out of his car.

He stood on your front lawn, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to get up to your room. He’d never sneaked in through your bedroom window before, your parents had liked him enough that they let him come in any time of day. Now, he figured if he knocked on the front door, your dad would kill him.

The lattice on the side of the house went only halfway to your room, which meant he’d have to grab a tree branch and maneuver over. He’d do it, though. You were worth the possibility of falling out of a tree and breaking his neck.

You were half asleep when you heard tapping on your bedroom window. Ignoring it as the wind, you closed your eyes—until you heard the window sliding open. You sat up, reaching for the lamp on your nightstand, ready to shout for your parents.

“Y/N? You up?” Elvis said before climbing through the open window.

“Elvis Aron Presley, get the hell out of my bedroom! What are you doing?” you whisper-yelled, throwing a pillow at him.

“Somethin’ wild and spontaneous to show my love for you?” he offered weakly. “I had to see ya, Y/N. The past two months have been miserable. I can hardly sleep because I spend so much time thinkin’ about you. Food don’t even taste the same. It’s like everything got the good taken out of it. Maybe I deserve that much, but I’d do anything for a second chance.”

“A second chance,” you repeated. “You made me feel like no one could love me, and just when I thought I could make something work with Frank, you come back here and ask me to trust you to not put me through that again.”

“Darlin’, I swear on my life I won’t.”

“How could you do that to me? Like I didn’t even matter! Like I wasn’t there where you were still that kid too afraid to sing with the lights on! And the fact that you let some stranger talk you into dumping me like I was last week’s garbage. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was? I could barely function for weeks! Then I meet someone who has the same hurt I do, and now you want me to hurt him? Who do you think you are?” you ranted, finally taking a breath.

“Tell me you love him. If you tell me you love Frank, I promise I won’t ever bother you again,” he said.

Your lip trembled. You wanted him to feel as dejected as you had, say it just for spite, but you couldn’t do it. Perhaps part of you did love Frank, but you knew you’d never be completely happy together. Not when he was just as hung up on Cynthia as you were on Elvis, no matter how hard either of you tried.

“I love you,” you whispered.

He wrapped his arms around you, crying into your shoulder. “I love you so much, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s going to be a while before I can really trust you again though.”

Lifting his head, he nodded, tears tracked down his reddened cheeks. “I’ll earn it back. I’ll make sure you can be on tour with me. I’m gonna tell the whole world you’re mine, album sales be damned.”

“Well, I’ll believe that when I see it,” you scoffed, knowing the Colonel wouldn’t allow it.

“First thing in the morning, I’m callin’ every newspaper and radio station in the city myself,” he promised. “Hell, I’ll walk right into one of those tattoo parlors on Beale Street and get your name over my heart.”

You smiled, putting a hand on his chest. “Easy, cowboy. Papers and radio are fine for now.”

He nodded. “I wish I’d known you wanted to dance,” he said, repeating his sentiment from earlier. “You looked so graceful.”

“I didn’t before,” you answered honestly, “but thank you.”

He got up from your bed, leaving you confused as he looked through your record collection. It had changed since he was last in your room. Previously blues and gospel albums outnumbered any other genre, but the Latin music was getting close.

“What are you trying to find?” you asked.

“Somethin’ good, so you can show me how to dance with you,” he said.

“You don’t know what to look for,” you said, getting up from your bed. It didn’t take you long to grab a single that you knew would be perfect. I’m in the Mood for Love.

In whispers, you explained the steps to him, trying to remember what Miss Louann had demonstrated on the first day of class. The two of you giggled over the soft music while he tried to follow your instructions.

“C’mon, Elvis, I know you don’t have two left feet,” you teased.

“Hard to concentrate when I got such a beautiful partner,” he said, almost bashfully. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you said. “But you have to dip me.”

“Dip you?”

“You know, tilt me back while we’re dancing,” you explained while dropping the needle back at the beginning of the song.

“I can do that,” he said, holding out his hand for you.

He did well remembering the steps, the two of you dancing in an intense silence. At the perfect moment, the one you were thinking of, he dipped you back, his soft lips meeting yours. This time, it was magical, perfect even. You felt the butterflies in your stomach again. When you pulled away, looking into his eyes that shone with nothing less than adoration, you knew you made the right decision.

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