A Musician's Worth by BynWho
Summary: The only luck Llewyn had ever had was bad luck. Until he met Eve. Unfailingly compassionate, Eve makes room in her life, and in her heart, for the rude and vulgar folk singer. Can he come to terms with who he is enough to deserve her? Or will his lack of confidence push her away? Llewyn/OC
Disclaimer: Inside Llewyn Davis belongs to CBS Films, StudioCanal, and the Coen brothers. No infringement is intended. Of course, Pete Seeger and Dave Van Ronk were real people and therefore belonged to themselves. Eve Sullivan is mine.
Eve wasn't a connoisseur of fashion. She liked to keep it simple: a sweater and slacks, and maybe a coat if it was cold out. Eve also didn't have much use for makeup. The good lord had thought it fit to bless her with clear skin, so she didn't feel the need to mess that up with paint caked all over her face. She wasn't stunning or special or exotic. In fact, he probably never would have even noticed her if her long red hair wasn't trying to get into his mouth right now. Llewyn was on the ground, having had the hell beat out of him by the husband of that Arkansan woman, Gingham Panties Betty. Blood was seeping from his busted lip and his ribs were bruised.
Eve had introduced herself to him before the show, shaking his hand as she told him her name. She had planned to say a lot of things to him, that she was also a friend of Jean's. That she was glad to meet him, she was a big fan. That she had both of his records and was hoping he'd put out another one soon. That she was sorry about Mike. But none of that made it out of her mouth. She stood there, stupidly, still shaking his hand and unable to say anything else. He politely excused himself and went on stage to play. Face beet red, Eve went to sit at a table toward the back. Hopefully, he wouldn't see her again and she could die of embarrassment in peace.
After he finished his set, he had disappeared. Eve couldn't concentrate on the next performer as her mind replayed her embarrassing interaction with Llewyn. Determined to find him and apologize, she asked the manager if he knew where he had gone. Pappi said he was meeting a friend out back and pointed to the side door. So, Eve followed.
When she stepped outside she looked down the alley and saw Llewyn on the ground. She quickly ran to him and crouched down to his eye level. He was surprised by her sudden appearance.
"Jesus, Llewyn, are you okay?" she asked as she reached under his arms and hefted him up, her hair swinging in his face, some of it getting into his mouth. She was a lot stronger than she looked.
"Yeah, yeah," he answered while spitting her hair out of his mouth. "Uh… thanks." he said as he steadied himself against the wall behind him. He looked at her again, recognizing her from before. "It's Eve, right?"
She let out a tiny, embarrassed laugh "Sorry about earlier. Yeah, I'm a friend of Jean's," she answered. He tried to step forward and winced at the movement, Eve moved to stand beside him. She pulled his arm over her shoulder and braced him as he walked. "Here, let me take you upstairs, get you taken care of." Together they hobbled around to the entrance on other side of the building and up the stairs. She pulled a set of keys out once they reached the top of the staircase and unlocked the only door there.
As Eve flipped the light switch, Llewyn asked her, "Where are we?"
"My place," she answered and led him to the couch to sit.
Llewyn grunted in pain. "You live over the Gaslight?" He bounced a little to judge the softness of the couch cushions. It wasn't the most comfortable couch, but he could certainly fall asleep there. He filed that information away for future use. Not having a place of his own was starting to take a toll on him as he was running out of places to crash. He had burned bridges with several friends and acquaintances recently.
"I do. It's just me here. No husband or boyfriend," she mentally kicked herself. Why would she say that? She walked into the bathroom to grab the rubbing alcohol from the medicine cabinet and a clean washcloth from the closet.
She heard Llewyn yell from the other room, "Did Jean tell you I was gigging tonight?"
She walked back into the room and opened the bottle, dabbing some alcohol on the washcloth. "Yeah, she did. I hope that's okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just surprised. Jean, uh… doesn't like me very much. What did you think? Did you like it? The show?"
She held the washcloth to the cut on his lip and he winced. "Sorry," she apologized. She smiled brightly at him. "Oh yes! You have a great voice. I think that last one you played was my favorite."
Llewyn chuckled, "Yeah, a lot of people like that one." He suddenly looked up at Eve, fear in his eyes, "So… did Jean say anything else about me?"
"Nope," she lied, popping the "p". She had answered too quickly. Llewyn closed his eyes for a brief moment. He knew exactly what Jean thought of him. He was shit. He was a loser. He had hoped that she wouldn't go around telling everyone this, though.
"Fuck. What did she tell you?"
At the distraught look on his face, Eve decided to spare him the bulk of it. She knew Jean's opinion of him. She also knew about their affair. Jean had asked Eve to take her to the doctor this Saturday for her abortion. After listening to his record, Eve had expressed interest in meeting Llewyn. Jean had tried her best to dissuade her, telling her all of the sordid details. But it didn't change her mind; Eve preferred to judge people for herself.
"She just said that you tend to crash on their couch a lot because you don't have a place of your own. That's all," she lied again. It didn't count when you were lying to spare someone's feelings, right? She also didn't want to admit to him that she had listened to his records several times a day for a week at least. She didn't want to tell him that she fell in love with his voice as soon as she heard it and that she had come down to the show tonight, desperate to see him in person. She didn't want to admit what his voice did to her. How her pulse quickened, her breathing became ragged, and warmth spread down her body when she heard him sing. How his voice was like sonic sex. It was ridiculous, she didn't even know him. She didn't want to seem like a stalker, so she kept that part to herself.
He looked skeptical, but he didn't say anything else about it. Eve went to the kitchen and grabbed some ice and a towel for his ribs. She came back in the room and gave them to Llewyn. He sighed in relief as he placed the cold bundle on his pained ribs. "Ah, thanks. That's better," he said as he closed his eyes and laid his head back. He felt the couch dip slightly as she sat next to him. Llewyn cracked his eyes and looked at her. She was wringing her hands together and worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "What?" he asked.
With a knitted brow, Eve asked him, "Llewyn, do you have a place to stay tonight?" She hoped that she sounded concerned for him rather than as nosy as she felt. He shook his head, so she continued, "You wanna crash here?" She was nervous asking him to stay, a single woman and a strange man sleeping under the same roof? It was unheard of. Eve usually didn't care what other people thought of her; it was a symptom of growing up the way she did. She was an only child of old parents, who had adopted her as an infant while in their 60s. For most of her life, Eve didn't have anyone else to take care of her, becoming self-reliant when her parents passed away before she reached adulthood. But for some reason, she cared what the man beside her thought. She hoped she wasn't too forward.
Rather than giving her a puritanical look of shock, he was relieved. "Oh man, you sure? It'll just be for a few days, if that's alright?" He hadn't been sure where he'd be staying for the next few days and it was causing him a lot of stress. He had tried to go back to the Merchant Marines to earn some money, but his sister had thrown out his pilot's license when he had demanded she toss away the box of belongings she had saved from their parents' home. His heart hadn't been in the endeavor anyway, but he was flat broke. Staying at Eve's would give him a chance to save up what he got from the basket at the Gaslight. He might even have enough out of it for a few meals and a pack of cigarettes.
"Yeah, of course. You can stay as long as you want, Llewyn," Eve smiled softly at him. "Like I said, it's just me."
888
The next morning Eve was sitting with Jean in the café down the block from her apartment. They went to school together and they had become good friends, bonding over their love of music and boys. They still met up a couple of times a month to catch up. Jean couldn't believe that Eve had invited Llewyn to stay with her.
"You barely know him, Eve," Jean admonished.
Eve chuckled at the protectiveness of her friend. "True, but it feels like I've known him for years."
"That's your crush talking. You always fall for pathetic, broken men, don't you?"
"I guess so. He's just so interesting. A folk singer? There's got to be a story there, Jean."
It was Jean's turn to laugh, "Yeah, a sad, pathetic story about a loser who's given up on his dreams. You're better than this. Why are you so nice to him? He doesn't deserve it."
"Jean…" Eve scolded. She believed in second chances and even third and fourth chances. People who tried, but failed deserve however long it takes to get it right. "It's because I know how it feels to be unloved and destitute. I've been alone for nearly half of my life."
"Eve Sullivan, Rescuer of Strays." Jean smiled at her friend. Despite Eve's tendency to try to fix dispirited souls, Jean loved her. "Here, Jim sent this for Llewyn." She handed a record over to her.
Eve looked at the cover, The John Glenn Singers. "What in the world?"
"It's a single he did with Jim and Al Cody. You should listen to it, you'd like it," Jean explained with a wicked grin.
888
Llewyn had awoken on the couch. There was an extra blanket stretched over him that he didn't remember grabbing. Eve must have pulled it over him at some point in the night. She was a confusing woman. When they had first met, she was so shy that couldn't say anything except her name, but now after only one night, she barely stops talking. She's also extremely kind to him and he can't figure out why. Usually when he crashes somewhere, he's left on his own. Eve not only had fed him, but offered to launder his clothes. It made him uncomfortable for her to take care of him like that. Llewyn wasn't sure how long he'd allow himself to stay at her place.
He got up from the couch and folded the blankets. There was a note addressed to him on the table next to the couch.
Llewyn,
I've gone to meet Jean, so I'll be back later this morning. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I also put out a new bar of soap and a new toothbrush in the bathroom. I wasn't sure what you would need.
See you soon,
E
"Huh," he huffed as he set the letter back down. Llewyn didn't know what to think about this. She was being a little too nice. It creeped him out and he wondered if he'd end up in one of those missing person articles in the paper. He shivered at the thought. Trying to take his mind off of it, he went to the kitchen to make himself some coffee and eggs. When he finished, he decided to see what Eve's taste in music was like.
He walked over to the shelf where she kept her records. She had an eclectic collection. There were symphonies and opera, some rock and roll, and some jazz. Surprising him, among the Buddy Holly and Billie Holiday were Timlin and Davis: If We Had Wings, and his solo record, Inside Llewyn Davis. She didn't really seem like a fan of folk music. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he thought of his missing person's poster. He could see it as plain as day, his face plastered all over the village: Local Folk Singer Missing. Last Seen With Obsessed Fan. He decided to see if he could crash at the Gorfeins for a few days.
Eve walked through the door to find Llewyn packing up his stuff. "Oh, you aren't leaving, are you?" she asked. She had hoped he would stay longer. She knew he rotated among his friends, but Jean had made it sound like he had nowhere else to go right now.
"Yeah, don't wanna overstay my welcome," he lied.
Eve looked crestfallen. "Oh. Well, if you ever need a place to stay, the couch is yours. I don't get many visitors." That much was obvious to Llewyn. She overplayed the gracious host, so he assumed that she didn't get many chances. As he picked up his bag and guitar and headed toward the door, he heard her ask timidly, "Did… did I do something wrong, Llewyn?"
His shoulders fell as he let out a sigh. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he didn't know what else to say. "Nothing, Eve. It's just…" He turned to look at her, "You're so nice. You don't know me and you're treating me like a long lost friend. It's… uh, kinda creepy."
She considered his criticism, "How am I supposed to treat you then?" Her question was genuine.
"Fuck, I don't know. Just not with the blankets and the food and… and the toothbrush. Who has a new toothbrush just lying around?" he laughed.
Eve nodded. "When I was down on my luck, a new toothbrush made me feel like royalty. I just thought… Shit. You'll have to forgive me, I'm new at this. Not a lot of people stay here. I had to bring myself up, so I've lived alone for a long time. I'm sorry I creeped you out, Llewyn." She could see that he was uncomfortable, so she decided a little levity might break the tension. "Where do you want your mail forwarded?" she asked with a slight smile.
"Wha— oh funny," he smiled. He had insulted her and criticized her and still, she apologized to him. He felt guilty that he had rebuffed her kindness. It sounded like she had had a rough life and was truly out of her depth. He also felt bad about the ungracious thoughts he had earlier. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be critical, I'm just not used to people being nice."
"I gathered," she replied. There was a hint of a smile on her face. "You wanna stay? If I promise to be mean?"
Llewyn snorted. "Yeah, yeah. If you don't mind. And I'll try to be nicer." He walked back over and put his stuff down.
"Oh you're Prince Charming already," she remarked dryly.
At a loss of what to say next, Llewyn asked about her record collection. "You've got an interesting collection over there," he said pointing to the shelf. "You, uh… you've got my records, huh?"
Fearful that she'd come across as creepy again, Eve lied, "No, Jean leant them to me. Oh!" She reached into her bag and pulled out a record. At Llewyn's questioning look she supplied, "Jim sent this. It's that John Glenn thing you all did? Jean said I had to hear it."
"Oh fuck, Eve, give me the record." He held out his hand. She dropped her bag, but held on tight to the record. "Eve, I'm serious, that's shit. It's embarrassing." She backed away from him, playfully holding the record behind her back.
"Embarrassing, you say?" she laughed. "I think I deserve to hear it, Mr. Davis. You owe me this."
Realizing that not only was she right, but that it wouldn't do any good to argue with her, he relented, "Fuck."
Eve ran to the record player and put the record on. It started: Ten, nine, eight-seven-six, five-four, three, two, one second please! Eve looked over at Llewyn with wide eyes. As the song continued, her lips quivered awkwardly, trying to keep from laughing. "Don't," Llewyn warned. She nearly lost it at the p-p-please. Eventually she lost her battle when the trio counted down again and landed on a comical oh no! and laughter bubbled from her throat. She grabbed her sides and fell onto the couch, tears streaming down her face. She laughed for a full five minutes before she started to calm herself.
She wiped her eyes. "Oh fuck, Llewyn! That was…" she tried to catch her breath. "Who wrote that anyway?"
Amused at her reaction, Llewyn replied, "Jim. Find that funny, huh?" She nodded, laughter threatening to come out again. "Yeah, well, Evie, it's gonna be a big damn hit," he said dryly. Eve burst into laughter at him. Llewyn smiled the first genuine smile in a long time.
888
Llewyn and Eve arrived at the Gorfeins' only a few minutes late. He had been to the Gorfeins' dinner parties many times, but this was Eve's first time meeting the older couple. Mitch Gorfein had found out from a mutual acquaintance that Llewyn had been staying with Eve for some time. Mitch's wife, Lillian, had insisted that he invite Llewyn and his new girl to dinner that week despite Llewyn insisting that he and Eve were not actually a couple. Llewyn loved the Gorfeins, but he dreaded their dinner parties. When Eve asked about it, he told her that he always felt like a trained poodle, made to sing and play for their entertainment. Regardless of how much Llewyn protested, Mitch would not hear "no" for an answer. So there they were, waiting for Mitch to answer his door.
"Llewyn! And you must be Eve! Come on in! Lillian's making her famous sukiyaki!" Mitch ushered them in and to the sitting room.
"Sukiyaki?" Llewyn asked skeptically as he removed his jacket and scarf.
"Mhm," Mitch replied. He took Llewyn and Eve's jackets and continued, "You know Jack and Jackie Barber?"
"Jack and Jackie?" Llewyn had leaned over to Eve's ear and grinned. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out something rude. Eve, grinning, nudged him in the ribs. She refused to laugh. He quietly snickered as she reached out to shake their hands.
"This is Llewyn Davis and Eve…" Mitch trailed off in his introductions and looked expectantly at Eve.
"Sullivan," she supplied.
"Llewyn!" Lillian ran into the room, hugging the reluctant singer. "And is this your Evie?" She pulled the younger woman in for a tight hug.
Eve gave Llewyn a look and mouthed Your Evie?
"Yeah, Lillian, she's not my… we're not together. We're not a couple," he corrected gesturing between himself and Eve. "We're just friends."
Lillian released Eve and took a good look at her. "Well, you never know," she stated with a knowing look.
He started to reply, but thought better of it. He mouthed an apology to Eve and she chuckled and waved it off. "It's nice to meet you Mrs. Gorfein," she said.
"Oh, honey, call me Lillian! Now, I must know all about you. Llewyn has never brought a friend to dinner before." The older woman escorted Eve to the kitchen, presumably to grill her for any light that might shed on her relationship with their folk-singer friend.
888
After dinner, Mitch had suggested that Llewyn play something for the group. Llewyn resisted, remembering the last time he played here he had lost his temper and yelled at Lillian. As Mitch stood to get his guitar, Eve broke in and asked, "Do you have a piano? I… I play a little. I could play for you."
Taken aback, but pleased nonetheless, Mitch replied, "Yes uh… yes, we sure do. It's in here." He changed directions to lead her to the instrument.
Llewyn breathed a sigh of relief and smiled softly at Eve. She gave him a wink before she stood to follow Mitch to the piano. "You might regret this, I haven't played in a long time," she laughed as she left the room. Delighted, Lillian rose and walked to the other room. Llewyn and the other dinner guests got up and followed not soon after.
Eve sat down at the upright piano and tried a couple of chords. Satisfied, she began to play "All of Me", made infamous by Billie Holiday in the 1940s. The lyrics were strangely seductive: Why not take all of me; take my lips, I want to lose them; take my arms, I'll never use them. Eve had never been trained to sing; her voice was rough and raw, but she hit all of the correct notes. The depth of emotion that it conveyed struck Llewyn in his chest. He felt her despair at an unrequited love. He wanted to walk over to her and hold her. He wanted to make her feel better. To kiss away the pain. He didn't know where that thought had come from and admonished himself for thinking of her that way. They had remained platonic, despite his obvious attraction, and he was determined to keep it that way.
He pushed down his feelings for her and clapped as she finished. Jack and Jackie offered to sing a duet. Eve got up from the piano to sit next to Llewyn as the Barbers sang a relatively safe rendition of "Cheek to Cheek". Jack and Jackie's voices melded together as Jack played the up-beat accompaniment. It was too disgustingly saccharine for Llewyn. He was afraid he'd lose his dinner if the overly affectionate display didn't end soon. His misery was put to an end as they finished and he clapped politely.
Suddenly Lillian stood and asked, "Llewyn, please, would you sing with me?" She batted her eyes at him, begging him to sing with her.
He was feeling warm and loose from the wine they had at dinner. Hearing Eve sing had put him in a pleasant mood, so, reluctantly, Llewyn agreed. "Yeah, sure. Why not?" He looked at Mitch, "I… uh… don't have my guitar with me. Mitch?"
"Oh, don't worry about that, I'll play the piano," Lillian offered. "Do you know 'The Way You Look Tonight'?"
Llewyn knew the song; he had played it for his parents for their anniversary many years ago. It was a sweet love song that sometimes was sung as a duet. He nodded, dreading this. Lillian sat at the piano and started to play. She sang the first note, and then coughed several times. "Oh, that hurts," she faked. "I'm afraid my vocal chords just aren't what they used to be." As Llewyn started back to his seat, Lillian turned on the bench and grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip. "No wait, I know. Eve can sing my part!"
Llewyn sighed as his shoulders sagged. He knew what Lillian was trying to do. It was obvious that she wanted them to sing the love song together, probably hoping it would turn into some sort of whirlwind romance. Lillian read too many novels.
Both Eve and Llewyn protested, but Lillian would have none of it. So, with Lillian on the piano, Eve and Llewyn began to sing the duet. They were timid at first, both uncomfortable with the situation. Once they relaxed, their voices entwined harmoniously. They turned to face one another and without realizing it, Llewyn reached a hand out and grabbed Eve's hand. She blushed as Llewyn sang his verse to her: Oh, but you're lovely; With your smile so warm and your cheek so soft; There is nothing for me, but to love you; Just the way you look tonight.
When they had finished, Lillian turned around and saw Llewyn holding Eve's hand. She smiled and gave Mitch a satisfied look.
888
The distance from the Gorfeins' to Eve's apartment was far enough to give Llewyn time to reflect on the evening. He was embarrassed at the emotion he unwillingly displayed with Eve. He had realized that he cared for Eve a lot, but he had no idea of what to do about it. He had fucked up every relationship he has ever had and he desperately didn't want to fuck this one up, too. He thought it would be better to remain friends, but that was becoming more difficult the more time he spent with her.
He didn't really understand his attraction to her, either. She was pretty, sure. But they were nothing alike. He was rude and a bit of a snob, if he were honest with himself. He used people whenever he could. He wanted to do well in music, but he couldn't bring himself to kiss ass enough to get anywhere.
Eve was sweet and polite and kind-hearted. She gave everything she had, wanting nothing in return. She was apparently well-off, since he never saw her go to a job. He assumed that her parents had left her quite a bit of money. He had never asked because he didn't want it to seem like he was using her for her money. Since he was kind of using her for a place to live, did that make him a liar of sorts? Or a hypocrite? Oh fuck, add liar and hypocrite to the list of things that he was.
She was passionate and driven and she deserved someone better than him. She was perfect and he was a mess. He was scared of the feelings she brought up in him. He didn't want to get hurt, but he didn't want to hurt Eve most of all. Miserably, he decided on the train ride home that he was going to leave before he fell in love with her and couldn't bear to. He'd call Jim to see if he could stay on their couch for a few days.
888
It had been a few weeks since Llewyn had last seen Eve. He stayed with Jim and Jean for a little bit. He was miserable and it showed. Jean didn't even have the heart to give him shit about anything. She was actually nice to him, which of course made him suspicious. After a few days, he rotated among what few friends he still had. The Gorfeins had taken the news that he was no longer staying with Eve pretty hard. Especially Lillian, who had made it her mission to find Llewyn a nice girl to be with.
Llewyn was going to play at the Gaslight that night, so he stayed over with Jim and Jean again. After Jim left for work, he and Jean sat on the couch in silence. Jean studied Llewyn as he watched a flock of birds fly by outside. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes. His hair was a bit longer and fell into his face. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he had lost some weight, too. He looked worse than she had ever seen him. Even worse than after Mike had died.
"I saw Eve the other day," she said.
Llewyn didn't look at her; instead he found his shoe very interesting. "Oh? How is she doing? Is she okay?" he tried to sound unconcerned.
"No, asshole, she's not." Apparently Jean's charity had a short shelf-life. "She's just as miserable as you are. Why did you leave anyway?"
Llewyn didn't want to talk about it. Anything he said would be turned around against him. "I don't—" he tried. "I don't fucking know, alright? We were having a good time at the Gorfeins one night, then there was a fucking sing-a-long or whatever and Lillian pushed me and Eve together… I just…"
Jean sat up straight and turned toward him. "Oh my God, you like her!"
"No, Jean, it's not what you think," he tried to explain.
"Oh really? So you don't like her?" Jean didn't believe him.
Frustrated, Llewyn stood. "No, I do. I mean, I like her, but…"
"But what?"
"Jesus, you should know! You're always telling me how shit I am! I'm no good for her, Jean!" he paced in front of her. He looked like a caged animal.
Realization dawned on her and she grinned, "You're scared. You're in love with her and it scares you."
Llewyn stopped. "I'm not in love with Eve. I just don't want to hurt her. She deserves better."
"God, Llewyn, you're so stupid sometimes! Don't you see? She's in love with you, too. Jesus, the two of you are pathetic!" Jean got up and went to go change.
The Gaslight would open soon and Llewyn was scheduled to play. He was so agitated for the rest of the evening that he couldn't play well on stage. He forgot some of the words to one of the songs and messed up the guitar part of another. It was so bad that when he was finished, Jim asked him if he was drunk.
"Not yet," he replied as he headed straight to the bar and sat for the rest of the night.
888
The next morning, he woke up in a strange bed. The bed itself was normal; it was just strange to Llewyn to wake up in a bed at all. The dim, cold light of morning shone through the cracks in the curtains. He looked around the room and recognized his surroundings. He was in Eve's bed. His heart dropped to his stomach with panic. He had been drunk last night. So very drunk. Llewyn concentrated hard to try to remember what had taken place the night before. There was rain. There was a lot of rain; it was cold from the changing season. He remembered being soaked to the bone in the chilling rain. He remembered knocking on Eve's front door. He remembered her taking his hand and wordlessly removing his jacket. Damn, he still needed to get a winter coat.
She pulled his scarf from around his neck and the gloves from his hands. The rain had soaked his coat through to his clothing underneath. Had she remarked on how wet and cold he was? On how pathetic he looked? He couldn't remember. She had led him down the hall and to the bathroom. He remembered hearing running water and her tuts as she peeled off his cold, wet clothes. He cringed when he realized that the first time she had seen him naked was in a sorry, drunk state. It bothered him a lot more than it should have. The last thing he remembered from the night before was lowering himself into the tub of warm water and the gentle stroke of her fingers through his hair.
Llewyn lifted the covers slightly to see if he was still naked. He was in his white undershirt, boxers, and socks. He breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was the embarrassment of being naked in Eve's bed. He looked over by the dresser and saw his bag and guitar case sitting on the floor. His clothes from last night were dry and neatly folded on top and his shoes sat in front of the bag.
The apartment was quiet as he got out of bed and dressed himself. There was a note on the kitchen counter, along with a few dollar bills and a bottle of aspirin. He poured two pills from the bottle and filled a glass with water. As he took the medicine for his hangover, he read the note. Her handwriting was feminine and impeccable.
Llewyn,
I've gone out. I'll be back in a few hours. The fridge is empty, so you'll want to go to the café down the block for breakfast or coffee. I have a surprise for you later, so don't run off.
xoxo
E
She had left him money for food. He didn't know whether to feel thankful or embarrassed. Eve would say that it's no big deal. That it was her fault for not having anything in. He flirted with the idea of skipping breakfast and going back to bed until his hangover subsided. He chuckled at what he thought she would say. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Llewyn! He put the money in his pocket, grabbed his coat and scarf and headed down to the café.
He had been there for an hour, sipping on black coffee and slowly nibbling on a piece of dry toast when Eve walked through the door. She sat down across from him. He heard his pounding heart in his ears. He started, "Evie, I—" He went quiet as she slid a pack of Marlboros and an old lighter toward him. He picked up the lighter and examined it, "What—"
"It was my father's. I thought you could use it," she shrugged. Eve turned her head toward the window and watched people walking by. Llewyn saw tears swimming in her eyes and his heart dropped. He had never meant to hurt her; he had only wanted to protect her.
"Evie," he started. She looked at him as a tear fell. "Fuck, Evie, I'm so sorry." He reached for her hand and she let him cover it with his.
She wiped her face with her other hand. "It's okay, Llewyn. I just didn't understand what I did wrong to make you leave like that."
"You didn't do any—"
"That doesn't matter anymore. Jean warned me that something like this might happen, but you're back now." She sighed, resolved to forget about the past. Eve smiled widely at Llewyn, her eyes sparkling, "I have something to show you." They got up and he let her lead him back to the apartment.
Eve was a puzzle to Llewyn. He couldn't figure out how she kept forgiving him. She was always up beat and joyful. Every time he screwed up or said something rude, she looked over it without making it a big deal. He tried to be better to her. He would think twice before blurting the first quip to come to mind. He tried to be more mindful of her feelings. Llewyn thought that he had changed for the better over the last several months. But no matter how hard he tried to be better, he paled in comparison to Eve's goodness.
They reached the apartment, going inside she held on to his hand, leading him down the hall. They stopped in front of the storage room door and Eve turned to him. "Close your eyes." He closed one eye, and squinted the other. "No, both eyes," she laughed while covering his eyes with her hand. Her skin was soft. He breathed in deep; her perfume permeating his senses. She smelled like sweet oranges and he liked it. He heard the door open and they walked through into the storage room.
Eve removed her hand and Llewyn looked around the room. Instead of the piles of junk and stacks of file boxes that were here before, there was a bed, a nightstand, and a lamp against one wall. On the wall across from them was a dresser, a radiator under the window, and a comfy sitting chair. A wardrobe took up most of the wall across from the bed.
"Evie? What? When?" He couldn't form a complete question.
"It's yours, if you want it. No more couches for you, mister," she laughed. Worried when he didn't say anything else, her smile fell. His face was closed off as he stared at the bed. "You don't have to stay, if you don't want to," she said in a small voice. Disappointed, she turned to leave.
Llewyn grabbed her arm and pulled her into an embrace. He held her tightly and shook slightly. Tearfully, he said, "God, Evie. Thank you. No one has ever… I don't deserve…" She wrapped her arms around him, her hand soothing the back of his head. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair.
888
It had been a few months since Llewyn had returned to Eve's apartment. They settled into a comfortable routine, Llewyn going from gig to gig, always looking for a break. Inspired by Llewyn's creativity, Eve took up drawing. She drew cityscapes and children playing in the park and little dogs being walked on their leashes. However her favorite subject to draw was Llewyn. She would catch him in moments when he wasn't paying attention or even when he was practicing his guitar. Eve believed that she was able to capture his sadness in her drawings. She would have died of embarrassment if he had ever found out about them, so she kept her notebook close at all times, just in case.
They grew close in these months, sharing jokes and tears and secrets. Eve told him about her parents and their deaths leaving her penniless until she was old enough to draw from the trust they had left her. She shared how she had often gone days with nothing to eat or no warm place to sleep. Llewyn told her about his struggling career and his arduous love affairs. He told her about Diane and the baby she had kept. He told her about Jean and the abortion. To his surprise, she already knew about the affair Jean since she's the friend who went with her for the abortion. Llewyn was understandably ashamed.
They went to see films when they could afford it and cooked dinner in on most nights. To anyone looking in from the outside, they were practically married. They shared everything about their lives with each other. Everything except for the love they both kept locked up, hidden inside their hearts.
Eve was in the kitchen, washing the dishes and reflecting on their relationship when the phone rang. "I got it!" Llewyn called out. He had been expecting Pappi to confirm his set for tonight. She was almost done with the dishes by the time he was off of the phone.
"Fuck!" Llewyn slammed the receiver of the phone back on its cradle. The resulting ring on the bell inside the phone punctuated his exclamation perfectly.
"What? Llewyn, what's wrong?" Eve ran into the room, wet dish towel still in her hands.
He turned to her with a look of desperation. "Eddie Costello is gonna be at the Gaslight tonight," he said expecting her to understand what that meant. "Eddie Costello, the writer? Broadside Magazine?" Eve just looked at him stupidly. "Jesus, Evie!" He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "They published some of Pete's Seeger's work for Christ's sake! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Eve sat the dish towel down and knelt in front of Llewyn. She grasped his hands in hers and tried to calm him. "It's okay, Llewyn. You're gonna be fine."
He shook his head wildly, "You don't understand. This is important. If he writes about me, it could mean my big break. Management, records, paying gigs! Oh God! What am I gonna do? I always fuck this shit up!" He was getting frantic.
Eve grabbed his face between her hands. Her middle fingers traced circles around his temples, lightly applying pressure. "Llewyn. Breathe. Everything will be just fine. I will be there. Jim and Jean will be there. Just… just be yourself. He'll love you. You can do this."
Llewyn calmed considerably at this. "You're right, you're right." He sucked in a deep breath through his nose then blew it slowly out of his mouth. "You're always right, Evie. Thanks," he smiled back at her.
"Now, go get ready," she got up and went back to the kitchen. "We'll have a small drink before we go." She hadn't gotten herself ready yet, but it never took her long. That's one of the things Llewyn really liked about Eve; she was what the magazines call "low maintenance." She didn't care what anyone thought of her and didn't try to be something she wasn't. She never demanded much from their friendship and was always compassionate and kind to him. Some nights, when he couldn't sleep, Llewyn would lay there and wonder what he did to deserve a friend like Eve.
888
Later that evening, they met Jim and Jean at the Gaslight. They sat at a table off to the side to watch the first act. It was a trio, singing some of the old folk standards. Llewyn was still nervous and fidgety. Several times Eve had to reach over and still his twitching leg with her hand. "Sorry," he apologized. "Hey, which one do you think is Eddie?" he had leaned over and asked Jim. A woman behind them shushed him. When Llewyn's leg twitched again, Eve grabbed his hand and stood. She dragged him to the side door and went out back to the alley.
"God, Eve. I'm so sorry. I'm just nervous." He couldn't stop fidgeting. Eve nodded once and stepped up close to him. She took his face into her hands and lifted herself up enough for her lips to meet his. Llewyn's eyes opened wide in shock. He cared for Eve, but he never thought she cared for him in the same way. He didn't think anyone would or could care for him that way. He was shit. He was a loser. He willed the cruel voice inside his head to shut up as he closed his eyes and returned the kiss.
It was slow and tender. Her soft lips moved over his lovingly as she reached behind him and wound her fingers in his hair. Her tongue delved into his mouth and rubbed against his. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands or where he should touch her. It had been next to never since the last time he had been with someone. The last time he was with a woman, they had been drunk and in a hurry. It was sex, but no kissing and no passion. This, though, was warm and affectionate. It was more than he deserved. Llewyn pushed those thoughts down and settled on holding Eve's hips.
Eve pressed her body against his, pushing his back against the alley wall. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and her leg lifted just enough to wrap around his calf. He moved his hands from her hips to the small of her back, holding her close. She felt his arousal and grinned against his mouth. They broke apart, desperate for air.
"Evie, I—" he panted. She quieted whatever apology he was going to make with her finger. Grinning wickedly, she ran her finger seductively down his lips, chin, and neck to settle her hand on his chest. With a hungry look, she lowered her hand down his chest and stomach to the front of his pants, pressing her palm against the bulge there. Llewyn's pupils dilated as he sucked in a breath.
She unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. "Wha—" Llewyn began, shutting up when she reached into his boxers and pulled his erection free. Eve slowly knelt in front of him, never breaking eye contact. She held him tenderly, afraid of hurting him. His breath hitched in his chest as she leaned in and put her mouth around the head of his erection and swirled her tongue around the tip. His member twitched as he slowly let out the breath he was holding. Satisfied at his reaction, Eve bent forward, taking his full length into her mouth. She held onto his hips to steady him as she sucked. "Fuck…" Llewyn moaned. She pulled back enough for her front teeth to gently graze his tip before plunging him back into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat.
He watched as she pulled and sucked and thrust back down at a slow, but steady pace. Llewyn leaned his head back on the wall, eyes closing. "Oh, God, Evie… What you do to me…" He ran his fingers through her soft red hair and held onto her head. She hummed in response and Llewyn moaned again. He gently bucked his hips into her. Sensing his frustration, she dug her fingers into the flesh of his backside and quickened her pace. Llewyn panted fast the closer he came to orgasm. "Eve, stop, I need to pull out. I'm gonna…" She hummed her dissent, tightened her lips, and picked up the pace. "Evie… I- I can't hold it…" Llewyn moaned deeply as he reached his climax, spilling himself down her throat.
She sucked and swallowed until his arousal eased in her mouth. Eve gently pulled away from him and stood. Eyes sparkling, she leaned in and kissed up his jaw line to his ear. "All better?" she asked, her warm breath caressing his ear.
"Yeah," he whispered. "All better." He tucked himself back into his boxers, fastened his pants, and fixed his belt. Llewyn stared at her in wonder as she walked back to the side door. He was relaxed and calm. He actually felt better than he had in years. It wasn't just the rush after an orgasm, either, though that was nice. He felt loved and cared for. This beautiful woman chose one of the most intimate acts to help ease his nerves, not getting anything in return. Her compassion for him was staggering. Llewyn had been fond of her before, but this simple act made his heart swell.
When they got back inside, the trio was just finishing up their last song. Eve went back to the table while Llewyn prepared to go on stage. Jean gave Eve an accusing look and asked, "Where did you two run off to?"
Not one to kiss and tell, Eve simply replied, "Pep talk."
888
Llewyn played his set to near perfection. He was so relaxed and calm that he even put on some charm when engaging with the audience. All in all, it was one of his best shows. There was another act coming up behind him, so when he got off stage, he headed back to his friends. He stopped beside Eve and bent down to touch his lips to the top of her head. "I'm gonna get some coffee. Want any?" he asked quietly. Surprised at the affectionate display, Eve just nodded. Jim and Jean stared at her, mouths open.
When he reached the back, Llewyn ordered two coffees. Pappi came up to him and clapped him on the back. "Good show," he complimented. "Hey, that Eve, huh?" he quickly changed the subject.
"Yeah, what about her?" Llewyn lazily replied. He turned around to watch her. Her head was bobbing back and forth in time to the music. Llewyn smiled softly.
Pappi gave a lecherous laugh, "I'd fuck her." Llewyn's smiled fell. "You know she owns this building, right?" At Llewyn's look of surprise, Pappi continued, "Oh yeah. This building and a few others down the block. Don't get me wrong, she's a fair landlord, or is it landlady? I can never tell these days. Always saying the wrong fucking thing." He laughed. "Anyway, when you can't pay the rent, she'll take favors instead. The woman that owns the bakery down the street? Yeah, free bread. Man…"
"You ever can't pay the rent, Pappi?" Llewyn asked dryly, simultaneously wanting and not really wanting to know the answer.
Pappi laughed again. He was a smug son of a bitch. "I'm short this month. May get that chance soon, know what I mean? I mean, you hear things, right? Man, a woman like that? All on her own…" Pappi walked away, chuckling to himself, leaving Llewyn to his own assumptions.
"Uh huh," Llewyn replied to no one, not trusting himself to use actual words. He grabbed the full coffee mugs from the counter and walked back to the table. He gave Eve her mug and sat down next to her. He tried to pay attention to the last act, but his eyes, and his thoughts, kept turning to the woman beside him. Eve was smiling and tapping her foot to the beat. Pappi walked by and waved to her. She smiled and waved back to him. Angry, Llewyn looked away. She was accepting sexual favors as payment from her tenants and she had the nerve to sit there like nothing happened.
Crushed, Llewyn thought of the alley in the back. He wondered how many times she had been back there, doing what she did, with other men. Did they do that to her? He tried not to picture the face she would make during an orgasm. He tried not to get angry that it wasn't him causing her to make that face. Was it just men or did she do that with her female tenants, too? He wasn't one to judge, sex is sex in his book. But he had thought he was special and loved. That she had done a kind thing just for him. He couldn't bear the thought that he was just another in a long line of meaningless sexual favors. Sure it was pleasant, but he wanted more. He wanted her in every way, sexual or not. That thought both surprised and angered him.
He had thought that the time he had been staying at her place had meant as much to her as it did him. He had his own bedroom and his own bed for the first time in years. They hung out a lot, too. They got to know one another and they enjoyed each other's company. He wanted to be around her all of the time. She intoxicated his senses. He realized, then, that he was falling for her. Or more accurately he had already fallen for her.
She looked over at him and smiled. He smiled back at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. Her face fell as she noticed. She cocked an eyebrow in question, but he turned away from her. The last act had finished their song and left the stage as the audience applauded them. Eve continued to look at Llewyn as he stood, wondering why he was upset. He leaned down, "I'm gonna go talk to the guy about the article. See you later." And he walked away.
888
A couple of hours later, Llewyn walked through the door to their apartment. Eve was sitting on the couch, holding a book, but not reading it. She had a tumbler of scotch sitting on the table next to her, untouched. She looked over at him with red rimmed eyes. "How did it go?" she asked timidly.
It had not gone well. Llewyn was unable to concentrate on the interview. He was short tempered and probably a little too vulgar for anything to be published. "I blew it, Eve. I fucking blew the interview. And do you want to know why?" At his angered tone, she wasn't sure that she did. However, her silence spurred him on. "You, Evie. I blew my one chance because I'm so fucking hurt and angry with you!" he yelled.
Taken aback, Eve rose from the couch, "Me? What did I do wrong? You were fine on stage! You—"
He cut her off, "Pappi, Eve. He told me everything!" He walked across the room toward her. "I thought you cared. That you, you actually wanted me," he voice cracked; his tone was quieter, but no less angry. He felt used.
Eve stepped closer to him. "Wait, what? What could Pappi have possibly told you that would piss you off this much?"
He couldn't believe the she would act like nothing was wrong with it. Like he was stupid. He was a loser, but he was definitely not stupid. "The rent, Eve," he tried to calm down.
"The rent?" she tilted her head in confusion. "I don't understand."
Llewyn ran his hands through his hair. "You accept favors when your tenants can't pay their rent."
Eve was getting frustrated. She didn't understand why this would make Llewyn mad. "Well, yeah. Mrs. Cobb just brought over that basket of pastries this morning because she's short this month. It happens, Llewyn. I'm not going to kick someone out for being short on rent every once in a while."
"No, I'm not talking about Old Mrs. Cobb and her fucking pastries, Eve! Favors. You know? Sexual favors?"
Now it was Eve's turn to be shocked, no, horrified was the right word. "Sexual favors? From who? Pappi?" Llewyn looked at her pointedly. Eve's face scrunched up in disgust. "Oh god, Llewyn!" She got in his face. "Are you really calling me a prostitute?" she asked angrily.
"Well, you'd be the John…," he started to reply. She slapped him. He held his hand to his pained cheek. "…since you'd be the one paid," he finished lamely.
"Not that it's any of your business, but instead of rent this month, Pappi agreed to let you play for the basket once a week for the rest of the year. " Her eyes were shining, but she held in the tears. She was incredibly angry and her nostrils flared with the effort.
Llewyn's angry demeanor dropped instantly. "Oh… oh shit, Eve. I'm—"
"And not that it matters, but I'm a fucking virgin, Llewyn! I've never even had an orgasm, so please tell me, why the hell would I accept sex for payment?" she yelled at him. She slammed her hand against her open mouth, as her eyes widened in shock and her face turned red. She realized what she had just admitted to him and sunk down on the couch, head in her hands. "Fuck, did I just say that out loud?"
Not knowing how to respond, Llewyn sat on the couch next to her. It was unbelievable that someone as loving as Eve was well into her twenties and still a virgin. Even more so that she'd never had an orgasm. After a moment of tense silence, he ventured an apology. "I'm an asshole, Eve. Fuck, I'm so sorry. You did that for me? Exchanged rent for the chance for me to play?" When she nodded, but didn't raise her head, he continued, steering the conversation in a different direction, "So, you've never…" She shook her head, refusing to look at him. "Not even when you masturbated?"
Eve squirmed uncomfortably and shifted her hair to cover her burning face. If it weren't such a serious situation, he'd laugh at how she was red all over, red hair and red face. It was cute. "I haven't ever…" came from somewhere underneath all of that hair. She was so quiet that he almost didn't catch what she had said.
"Masturbated? Pleasured yourself? Rubbed one out?" he asked as Eve stood and left the room mortified. He gave her a few moments of peace before going after her. He walked into her bedroom and saw her standing over by the window, watching the people on the crowded street below. She had changed out of her clothes and into her nightgown. "Sorry," he apologized.
"I've been on my own since I was 13, remember? I didn't have anyone to teach me about this stuff," she admitted. This was probably the most embarrassed she'd ever been in front of him. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die of shame. "I've never… you know. Not even on my own. I don't know what to do. It's not like there's a manual for this thing." He chuckled at that. She continued, "I hadn't found anyone I was comfortable enough with or that I cared enough for to…" She couldn't finish. "I had never even seen a penis up close and in person until tonight."
"That was the first time you had… done that?" he asked incredulously. She nodded, tears falling. "Damn, Evie. You, uh… definitely have a talent," realizing what it sounded like he was saying, he apologized. "Fuck, sorry. You know what I meant, though. It was… damn good, to be honest." She smiled softly at his praise.
Llewyn finally realized what she had been saying. She hadn't had sex because she was waiting for someone she loved. She had waited for him. He went to her and pulled her in for a hug. "I'm sorry, Evie. I'm such shit. I'm an asshole and I don't deserve you."
He held her close to him for a few minutes, giving her time to calm down. She could feel his heart thumping fast in his chest. Eve lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were dark with lust as he watched her. Eve stretched up to him and touched her lips to his. Llewyn took advantage of the opportunity and wound his fingers through her hair as he hungrily returned her kiss. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth and gently bit down, causing a moan to escape Llewyn. She may be a virgin, but she definitely knew how to kiss.
Llewyn kissed across her jaw and to her ear, where he nibbled on her earlobe. As he trailed hot kisses down her throat, she pulled his shirt from his pants. She was desperate to feel more of his skin. She ran her hands beneath his shirt and around his back. He chuckled at her impatience and sucked on the skin at her neck and shoulder, his beard scratching wherever he went.
His hands moved down her back to rest on her ample bottom. He squeezed and pulled her against him, where she could feel the beginnings of his arousal. He licked back up her throat and captured her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. Eve opened her mouth to him and allowed his tongue to lick hers. He ground his hips into her, causing her to moan huskily. She pulled her hands out of his shirt and placed them on his chest. She pushed him to the bed, where he sat down hard. Eve unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his arms. She pulled his undershirt over his head and threw both onto the floor.
She climbed onto his lap, kissing him while running her hands through his chest hair. Llewyn hiked her gown up to her hips and spread his hands across her outer thighs. He reached into the gown to hold onto her backside, pulling her closer on his lap and grinding her sex against his arousal.
Tired of the gown getting in the way, Eve pulled it over her head and threw it down, leaving her in only her silk panties. Once they were free, her heavy breasts bounced in Llewyn's face. He grinned wickedly and dipped his head down to kiss the porcelain flesh in front of him. As his mouth reached one of her nipples, Eve ran her fingers through his hair, holding his head to her chest. Llewyn sucked the nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the rosy bud and gently nibbling it until it was hard and erect. He kissed his way to the other nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Eve's head fell back as she mewed in pleasure. Llewyn grinned at the noises he was pulling from her. Once both nipples were hard and rosy, he kissed up her chest and back to her mouth.
Eve ground her hips down hard into his groin. Llewyn grunted in pleasure and rolled her over onto her back. He stood to remove his pants and underwear. Eve looked at his body, smiling appreciatively; a trail of hair went from his navel joining the dark curls above his erection. She sat up and gently curled her fingers around his length. Llewyn's erection twitched in her hand and he smiled down to her. "Not yet, Evie," he said lovingly as he cupped her cheek. "I want to do something for you first."
She let go of him as he kneeled in the floor in front of her. He hooked his thumbs into the band of her panties and pulled. Eyes wide in fear, she apprehensively lifted her hips to allow him to slip the silk down her legs and onto the floor. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." He spread her knees apart enough to scoot closer to her. He kissed her lips softly and wrapped his arms around her waist. Still tense, Eve tentatively kissed him back. Llewyn drew back and looked her in the eye. "Evie, honey, relax. Nothing is going to happen that you don't want to happen. You can trust me." He bent his head to kiss her shoulder and the side of her neck, his beard making her skin tingle wherever it touched.
Eve leaned back on her elbows as Llewyn kissed down her chest, stopping at each breast to run his tongue over her tender nipples. He continued his way down, kissing and nipping at her skin. Once he reached the patch of hair between her legs, he pulled her thighs up over his shoulders. He was entranced by the soft, creamy skin of her inner thighs, kissing them closer and closer to her sex. He gently bit down on her thighs as he grabbed a hold of her bottom and adjusted her closer to the edge of the bed. Eve dropped her head back as he leaned forward and dipped his tongue between her folds.
His tongue encircled the nub he found there before roughly pressing against it. He sucked softly and kissed all around her folds. Eve's heart was pounding loudly in her ears as her need grew. She rocked her hips against his mouth as he rolled her nub with his tongue, his beard rough against her inner walls. Panting and moaning, she reached down and grabbed his hair roughly in her fists. Llewyn grinned and quickened his stride, his own arousal becoming nearly unbearable. A warm sensation developed in the pit of her stomach and spread down to between her legs. She panted and moaned and called his name over and over. Suddenly, he felt her shudder and quake against his mouth. She screamed as she shook and the warmth spread all over her body. She felt high and drunk and oh so very sexy in that moment as she rode out her orgasm.
Llewyn's arousal was hard and painful as it begged for release. He sat up and watched as the flush of pleasure on her skin began to fade. She scooted back further onto the bed and beckoned him to join her. He crawled onto her, kissing his way to her mouth. She spread her legs further to accommodate his body and he hovered over her, bearing his weight on his elbows. He rocked his hips against her, his erection pressing against her stomach. He looked down at her face, her red lips were swollen and her hair was splayed out behind her. Her eyelids were heavy with pleasure and she seductively bit her lower lip. Eve nodded her head, telling him to continue. He kissed her passionately, his beard rubbing her skin raw.
Llewyn settled himself between her legs, which she wrapped around his waist. He paused at her entrance to once again ask her permission. He'd never had sex with a virgin before, so he was apprehensive about hurting her. Her pupils dilated with need and she let out a breathless moan of pleasure as he delved into her. Her muscles were tight against his hard erection. He pushed further into her and she squeezed her eyes shut at the pain. It was sharp, but quick. He rested his forehead on hers as she adjusted to the size of him. She opened her eyes and saw his look of concern. In an answer to the question he hadn't asked, Eve lifted her head slightly and kissed him.
Llewyn kissed her languidly while he slowly moved in her. He kissed her jaw and down her neckline, sucking the skin and the hollow of her throat. He ran his tongue back up her throat and captured her lips again. Her nails dug painfully into his back, but he liked it. He thrust into her slowly at first, not quickening his rhythm until he felt her loosen. She was slick and warm, making it hard for him not to go faster. "Llewyn… please… just fuck me…" she begged breathlessly. He drove into her harder and faster as her legs tightened around him. Her feet pressed against his backside as he thrust himself into her.
Her breasts bounced against him, nipples hardening against his rough chest hair. Keeping up his momentum, he bent his head down and bit her hard at her collarbone. She cried in pleasure as he continued to graze her skin with his teeth. She felt the now familiar warmth build between her legs. "Oh god, please! Fuck! Oh God! Llewyn!" She was screaming nonsense. He felt her walls tighten, then convulse all around him. Her body quivered as she screamed his name and warmth spread down to her toes.
Llewyn felt his own orgasm building. He moved faster and faster, calling her name. "Oh fuck, Evie! I love you! Fuck! Oh fuck!" He moaned one last time before spilling into her. She held his hips to her as he rocked through his orgasm. "Evie, oh God, I love you so much," he admitted between kisses.
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They laid together in the after-glow, Llewyn still on top of Eve with his head resting between her breasts. She stroked his damp hair as their breathing calmed and the sweat on their bodies began to dry. He rolled off of her and rested one arm up behind his head, while his other arm stretched out to his side to touch her. His hand was on her thigh, his thumb rubbing patterns on the skin of her hip. He was mesmerized by the feel of her smooth skin under his fingers. Eve was soft and warm and his.
There was a tug in his heart at the thought that she wanted to be with him. Questions he was afraid to ask came rolling into his head like a dark, unbidden tempest threatening to ruin their tranquil moment. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes as he tried to will them away. The cruel voice inside his head spoke them anyway. "Evie? Why do you want me? I'm no good for you."
"God, Llewyn. What a time to say that." His thumb stopped in mid-circle. Eve sighed. She guessed that he had never had anyone besides his family tell him that they loved him. Even of that she wasn't so sure. "I want you, Llewyn, because you are a good man." He huffed at her in disbelief. "You don't like to admit it, but you're compassionate. You care about how others feel."
She rolled onto her side to look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, small tears rolling down the side of his face. "I want you because I love you. You make me laugh. You make me angry. You make me scream in every way possible," she chuckled. "You make me want to be a better person, Llewyn. You make me care about the world." She paused for a second before admitting, "I fell in love with you before I had even met you."
He looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well," she took a deep breath and released it. "I fell in love with your voice, your music. The records you saw in my collection? Jean didn't lend them to me. I bought them. I listened to them four or five times a day before we met. Your voice moved me. I felt the anguish, the sorrow, and even a little happiness in each song. I knew I had to meet you, so I begged Jean to introduce us. My fondest memory was the day we finally met."
"Evie, I'm shit. I'm a loser. Even my fucking partner killed himself to get away from me. I'm nothing," he finally let it out. He didn't know why Mike Timlin had jumped that day, but Llewyn couldn't help but feel guilty about it. He had been holding on to these feelings for so long, it felt good to finally let go.
She cupped his cheek and turned his head to face her. "Then we're both shit and both losers, because Llewyn, I'm in love with you and you can't change that. You're everything to me. I'm not going anywhere." She reached over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I want to be with you for as long as you'll have me."
"No one has ever wanted me before. Diane wanted me to be something I'm not. And Jean, well, Jean is Jean. I have no idea what she was thinking. Probably that I'm an asshole," he chuckled bitterly. "But you. You want me the way I already am?"
"I do. The way you are right now. No conditions."
"I'm never gonna be the clean-cut college educated boy that every mother wants her daughter to bring home. I'm dirty. I'm vulgar. And I'm poor."
"Well, Llewyn, I guess it's a good thing I don't have a mother anymore." She laughed as she rolled onto her back and laced her fingers with his. "Besides, I have a kink for folk singers with beards."
He wiped away the tears that had escaped and laughed. "I'm keeping you away from Van Ronk, then," he joked. They laughed together as Llewyn pulled Eve to him and held her close, falling asleep.