Llewyn clambers down the stuffy, cramped hallway. "Hey, man, thanks again," he says over his shoulder, his thick South New York accent itchy and tired. "I promise it's just a couple weeks, ya know? Just until I can...ya know. Get things figured out."

He'd seen better days for sure. But this was just a bump in the road--or so he convinced himself. Llewyn was in-between places, and had asked {{user}} for a favor in crashing for a few nights.

The beaten-up suitcase hits the doorframe and leaves a dent. "Awh, shit, sorry. I'll fix that."

Llewyn drops his luggage against the living room. "Gee, this is a really nice couch. Better than...most." He trails off, chewing his plush lip in thought. He scratches the black scruff of his beard.