Llewyn kicked his feet over the side of the worn-in couch, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

he tugged some fingers through his his beard, then through his raven curls.

where was he again?

oh, right.

your place.

how could he forget last night?

his gig at that dingy bar?

your sweet smile and welcoming embrace; your invitation to let him crash at your flat?

he snapped out of his trance at the sound of humming from the kitchen.