Austin Butler imagines

Little E 2: A Bad Day

Usually Elvis loved having his hair brushed and done up but this morning he was having none of it. Admittedly it was the ass crack of dawn and he had slipped sometime in the night so today this morning he was absolutely being a terror. Not sitting still, pulling away, pushing product bottles over, screeching in protest, the whole nine. 

Usually when he gets testy just because he's sleepy, a firm squeeze of his shoulder puts him in place but today, for some reason he is just not having it. Possibly because he knows he has to be big some time today for interviews and doesn't want any part of being big today. 

After the fifth time he's pulled away from your brush, you opt to just stop and sigh, grabbing his gaze in the mirror. "You know we have to go do this, I'd rather just sit in bed and have cuddles too but sometimes we can't always get what we want, honeybee, okay? So can you please be a good boy and cooperate for me?" 

Elvis just sends you a deadly glare over his shoulder. He's sitting in a stool in front of the mirror so one, he can feel small and more importantly so you can reach his raven locks. At 5'4" it's a challenge sometimes but Elvis is a gentle giant. 

After a particularly knotted section of hair, Elvis pulls back and puts his arm up, shielding himself from this devil brush. "No, mama! No! No intervoos, no 'tinky suits, no colonel..." Elvis bravely takes the brush out of your hand and launches it across the room with a guttural yell. 

That's enough. "Elvis Aaron Presley. You do not yell at mama! You have made it very, very clear you don't wanna go but we got to, baby. We have to so we can keep up the money so you can buy all the stuffies you beg me for and the toys and the cars and the airplanes, okay?" 

Elvis turns  toward you and takes a beat before his tongue inch by inch slips out between his teeth and he points it at you. 

You take a deep breath and grab the top of his ear, pinching swiftly. "E, you better put that tongue back, mister. You know this is not the way to behave okay, now if you keep this up, you know you're going to go to the step once you get home! If we had time I'd put you on the step right now, do you understand me? Now you better stop this right now!" Elvis turns back around, looking intently at the rings on his fingers, thinking of his time-out step at the bottom of the main staircase. 

Elvis ducks his head in defeat. "Gentle." He mutters. "I'll try baby." 

***

Later that day, you arrive home finally and Elvis sighs tiredly, eyeing the bottom step of the staircase and glancing at you to see if you'll make him park his bum there. You raise your eyebrows, nodding toward it. "Go on, ten minutes lovie. Then all is forgiven okay." Elvis shuffles toward the step and lowers himself onto it, glancing up at you with apologetic sad teary eyes. 

You place your hand on Elvis' shoulder and he wilts, almost. You take his chin in your hand so that he has to look you in the eye. "Do you know why I'm sitting you here?" He attempts to look away, finding something interesting on the wall. "'Cause I wasn't nice... I 'tuck my tongue at momma, threw things and yelled." You nodded. "Yes and you know it's okay to have those big feelings but you know why I was frustrated this morning, right?" He nods as his tears finally spill over and his lip wobbles. 

You turn away and Elvis tries to reach for you but you lean away out of his reach. "Nope, no, no. Ten minutes and then I'll be back." He reaches for you as you walk away out of his sight and as soon as he can't see you anymore, all hell breaks loose, he's yelling for you and crying exaggeratedly so that he knows you can hear him even rooms away. "No momma, stay! Stay with 'e! Stay!" 

You sigh as you stay in the kitchen, setting a ten minute timer as you listen to his cries. 

Just as the timer goes off, Elvis starts to cough from all his screaming and yelling for you. Oh great, please don't puke. You think as you rush to the stairs, arms open for E to settle himself into. "Okay, shh, baby. You're working yourself up and it's all over. Shh, shh, you're going to make yourself sick baby. It's okay." He hugs himself onto you, taking deep breaths to calm himself down as you run your fingers through his hair. 

Eventually he settles himself to just hiccups and sniffles. "Shh, see? It's all okay." You peck his head. "I'm sorry mama. I was a meanie." E mutters, looking up at you through his lashes, his eyes red rimmed and a bit bloodshot. "It's all forgiven lovie. I promise. Now how about we go lay down for a bit. You're looking sleepy." He nods and yawns hugely. "Oh so sleepy. Alright, to bed we go." Elvis turns and charges up the stairs, nearly tripping at the top. 

"Woo, baby! Careful don't want you getting hurt." He nods waiting for you at the top of the stairs, not walking toward your bedroom until his hand is in yours.  

(Also posted on my tumblr!) 

See you soon! I hope you enjoyed!