y/n’s steps echoed softly on the plush carpet of Elvis' bedroom as she ventured further into the opulent space. It was a stark contrast to the room she remembered from their time in Germany, with its lavish furnishings and thick velvet curtains that framed the windows.

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The bedroom was bathed in the soft, amber glow of a single lamp on the nightstand. The curtains were drawn, muffling the distant hum of Memphis traffic. The air was thick with the scent of cologne and something else—something warm and distinctly him.

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