Can we please get more Everly and Micah content? 🥺
How about their first meeting?? Though I suspect it'll leave you wanting morrrre 😘
Micah and Everly are gonna get their own book!! So here's an excerpt @marydublinauthor and I wrote a while back as we were first dreaming them up 💖
Warning: Hints of dehumanization as part of the setting
((More Micah/Everly))
💖FOREVERLY💖
Everly was sprawled out on the couch, aching down to her bones from her shift. Working in the human sector was exhausting, but the pay was better compared to staying within the walls of the print community. Not for the first time, she questioned if it was worth it.
Just when she was dozing off to the sound of her two roommates playing cards at the table next to her, Grayson gave a shout as he lost the game.
“Could you keep it down?” Everly groaned and buried her eyes in the heels of her hands. “I deal with loud people all day.”
“Sorry, Ev,” Wyatt said, though he hadn’t made a sound.
“Aw, what’s one more loud person.” Grayson came over to the couch and lifted Everly’s legs up so he could sit down. Her calves rested on his lap. She considered kicking him, but he was smiling right at her. “Anything you want to rant about?”
“Everything,” she said. “But what’s the point?”
Wyatt turned his chair around to face the couch. “Thinking about leaving your job yet?”
“No. No, it’s worth it.”
“Worth what?” Grayson said. “You leave early, come back late, and knock out just to do it all over again. You’ve got no life. I’m starting to think you buy into the whole ‘prints live to serve humans’ thing.”
Now she was definitely going to kick him. Especially considering he used to be human.
A sound made them all turn their heads to the window. It was unmistakably a voice, and judging by the speed at which its volume was growing, it had to belong to a human. And it wasn’t the sound of a keeper sneaking in phone conversation during a late shift.
He was singing.
They were all entranced for a few seconds. There was no denying it—he had an impressive voice, but as he came closer and closer, it became all too clear that he was making too much noise. It was well past midnight, and there were plenty of prints who needed to be up before sunrise to head to the human sector for work.
“Are you kidding me?” Everly muttered, pushing herself up from the couch.
Wyatt started to stand too. “Ev, maybe you shouldn’t—”
Too late. She pushed the window up until it was fully open and leaned out into the freezing night to see down the street. She didn’t have to look long before she saw the keeper. He was staggering, careening dangerously close to a building as he turned a corner. He was still singing, trailing off at times and starting the same phrases over and over.
He headed straight for her building. Across the street, she could see the lights in other windows turning on, along with face peeking past curtains. He was waking everyone up.
Gripping the edge of the window sill, she leaned out further as he approached. The third-floor apartment put her at level with his elbow. She craned her neck back and found that he hadn’t even noticed her. His unfocused gaze was on the ground, as if he had to look at his feet to keep from losing balance.
“Hey!” she called out. “Keeper! Are you drunk?”
The singing stopped, and so did he. As he turned toward her voice, Grayson and Wyatt appeared on either side of her, grabbing her by the shoulders to wrench her away. As they all staggered back, they lost their balance and fell into a heap together. Everly sat up in time to see the lights across the street vanish, replaced by a wall of dark fabric. There was a dull impact from the outside bricks, as though the keeper was bracing his hand on the side of the building as he stooped down.
Part of the human’s face descended in front of the window. A dark brown eye found them sitting on the living room floor. Grayson squeezed Everly’s hand and locked an arm around Wyatt’s shoulders, pulling him in close. As the eye squinted at them, Everly couldn’t find her voice.
“She’s sorry,” Wyatt said. “S-she had a long shift today. She didn’t mean it.”
Grayson shouldered her, raising his eyebrows steeply when he caught her gaze. “Earth to Ev?” he gritted out. “Apologize before he turns this whole fucking floor into the new roof!”
She faced forward with every intention of saying sorry, but when she saw the eye focus right on her alone, she was a deer caught in headlights. All she could manage was a breathy, “Uh… I’m…”
“Yes,” the keeper said, his voice easily overpowering hers.
“Um.” She shared a puzzled frown with her friends, then looked back at the keeper’s eye. “What?”
The keeper’s chuckle danced through the floor beneath her. “You asked me a question. The answer is…” He straightened slightly so that his mouth was visible through the window. “Yes,” he stage-whispered.
His white grin stayed there for another heartbeat before he pulled away entirely. The lights from the building across became visible again. There were more of them now—prints watching and waiting to see if someone was about to be dragged out through the window. The keeper provided no such entertainment, however. Everly felt the rumble of his footsteps fade off. He started singing again.
“He is drunk,” Everly said. She stood and began pacing while Wyatt helped Grayson up. “This is ridiculous! We work and live our lives under the stupidest, strictest rules imaginable, but this asshole gets to show up drunk to his job without any consequence?”
“Well, good to know you can still talk,” Grayson said dryly. “We were starting to worry.”
She rounded on him to find that he had sunk onto the couch, and Wyatt was leaned up against the table with his fingertips pressed to his temples. Beneath the relief that nothing had happened, she could see they were still tense.
Sighing, she went to sit by Wyatt and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I just… it’s so…”
She trailed off and scowled at the open window. The keeper’s voice was still going strong. As the seconds passed, she realized he wasn’t getting any further away.
“Great,” Everly said. “I bet he found a place to hunker down, and who knows when he’ll stop singing. Keepers don’t change shifts till six AM.”
“Could be worse,” Grayson said, crossing his arms. “You have to admit, he sounds pretty good.”
More than pretty good. He sounded downright enchanting.
“That’s not the point.” In an instant, she was on her feet again. “He’s gonna keep everyone up all night because he decided to show up to work like this. And who’s gonna get in trouble? The prints who can’t do their jobs right because they’re sleep-deprived.”
She stormed over to the door, but Grayson went and grabbed the handle before she could unlock it.
“Slow down,” he said. “Where are you going?”
Squaring her shoulders, she stood a little taller and looked at him coolly. “To kindly tell him to shut the fuck up.”
He let the back of his head thud against the door. “Do I actually need to tell you why that’s a bad idea, or should we just skip to tying you down on the couch for the night?”
“Well, it’s not like putting in a report is gonna do anything!” she said.
Less than a month ago, Cindy from down the hall reported that a keeper was following and harassing her. Days later, she had vanished without a trace, and the keeper still had his job. No one had the slightest clue where she was, and the human managers of the community had investigated the matter for roughly ten minutes, chalking her up as a runaway.
“You know,” Wyatt said. “You’re more likely to disappear if you go about it this way. Besides, it’s way past curfew. If you step outside, he’s well within his rights to arrest you.”
“I don’t think he has the wherewithal to know what arresting means.” She turned to face Grayson, who was still blocking the door. “If no one stands up to the keepers, they’re not gonna stop doing whatever they want. So you can either let me out now, or I can go for the window.”
Grayson heaved a sigh and looked at Wyatt, who gave a reluctant nod. With the door clear, Everly unlocked it and stepped into the hallway.
“You’re making the wrong choice,” Wyatt said.
“That’s easy, considering prints only get wrong choices.” She shut the door behind her and headed for the stairs.
Outside, the human’s deep tenor caught in the space between buildings, ringing against her skin and raising hairs on the back of her neck. It was like pushing through musical waves as she approached.
The keeper was slumped against the glass building that housed their community pool. It was a wonder of science that the glass didn’t strain against his weight. His tailored gray uniform was rumpled, a hip flask poking out of his pocket. His eyes were closed, apparently too engrossed in belting his heart out to even the barest part of his job description.
She stopped by his knee—close enough to be heard, far enough that she could make a break for it. She opened her mouth to confront him, but the urge died on her tongue each time. He was a mess, but something deep in her gut didn’t want the music to stop.
When the song was apparently finished, his silence felt strange. The human sighed deeply. His chin sagged to his chest and his dark eyes fell to the lone figure beside him—noticing her, but not alarmed. “I wrote it myself you know,” he said, raising his eyebrows at her.
Her heart hammered under the closeness of him, the weight of his attention. Still, she made sure he saw her displeasure. “Most of that was nonsense, so I wouldn’t be boasting,” she said. “Look, can you be drunk somewhere else?”
“You didn’t like it?”
“You’re keeping the entire sector from sleeping.”
The keeper’s unfocused gaze lifted, noticing for the first time the illuminated windows on either side of him; curtains all drawn, curious eyes fearfully peeking between the shutters.
He giggled like he was laughing at his own joke. “Oops.”
Her blood boiled at his stifled snickering, making her bold enough to storm closer. “Is that really all you have to say for yourself? You fucker.”
His laughter tapered off, and he leaned down closer to eye her with a bemused frown. If not for the faint smile lifting the corners of his mouth, she would have bolted. “Wow. You’re mean,” he said. “Why are you so mean?”
Everly drew in a deep breath and let it out as an even deeper sigh. “Because. I’m sleepy.”
“Then why don’t you go to sleep?”
She wasn’t sure which was worse—that he might be toying with her, or that his question might be genuine. Dropping her chin for a moment, she pressed her fingertips to her forehead.
“I can’t,” she said, stretching out each syllable like she was explaining something to a toddler. “Because there’s a giant fucker drunk off his ass and singing like it’s his last night on earth.”
“Why are you talking so slow?”
Throwing her head back, she groaned. “In hopes of piercing the fog occupying the wasteland between your ears!”
As he pursed his lips, she could practically see his inner cogs turning as he processed what she said. “Huh. You’ve got a way with words,” he decided finally. “Ever thought about writing lyrics?”
“What is wrong with you?” She started pacing, feeling like she might spontaneously combust if she didn’t get the energy out. All the while, she kept her eyes trained up at him. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to have no control over anything? No! You don’t! Do you have any idea what would happen if I showed up drunk to work? Hell, they’d probably make me a trinket if I even seemed a little hungover! But here you are, barely able to stand. The worst part is that I can’t even be at your level to tell you off properly! If you remember this when you’re sober, you’re probably just gonna laugh—”
He was so sloppy in his motion, she had plenty of time to react and dodge his incoming hand, but she froze up like a rabbit cornered by a wolf. She didn’t react until his hand wrapped around her waist and swept her off the ground. Weightlessness left her short of breath. All at once, she was a mass of flailing limbs, a scream starting to tear through her.
“Shh.” He stole her voice, pressing his free index finger over her mouth. She went still, trying to lean away from his touch as her shallow breaths ravaged through her. He frowned deeply, as though trying to make sense of her fear. “Easy. I just saved you from getting soaked.”
He nodded at the ground. Water glinted under the starlight—a dip in the asphalt she hadn’t noticed in her rage. She brought her gaze back to him and nodded as best she could.
“Not going to freak out?” he asked.
She shook her head, and he tentatively pulled his finger away, briefly pressing it to his own lips in a shushing motion as his stupid smile returned.
“Great,” she breathed, hating how her voice cracked. “My hero. Now put me down.”
It felt like a reasonable and straightforward enough request to her, but apparently he didn’t see it that way. He shifted where he sat, folding one long leg up close to his chest. Much to her horror, he brought her over his knee and set her down atop it. She sat up straight, bracing her hands behind her and grasping fistfuls of fabric. Her shoes scrabbled against his thigh, trying to find solid purchase.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” She didn’t have to crane her neck to glare at him now, at least. “I said down! This is not down!”
“You said you hated not being at my level.” He cocked his head and pouted, as if he had really thought she would be pleased with his idea.
“You’re…” She would have thrown her hands up if not for the fear of sliding down his lap and dangerously near his crotch. “I don’t know what you are. Sing all night if you want, just put me down so I can go home. I’ll have one of my roomies knock me out with a blunt object.”
“Hang on, hang on.” His gaze danced over her inquisitively, making her go rigid. “One of those guys said you had a long shift. Where does an angry girl like you work?”
She bit her lip and gathered patience, praying he’d let her go if she humored him. “For an electric company in the city. Now—”
He chuckled. “What are you, like an electrical engineer?”
“Are you this funny when you’re sober?” she deadpanned. “No. When there’s electric problems in building walls or heavy machinery in need of maintenance, I go inside with a camera, and my handler guides me on how to fix it. It’s really not that fascinating.”
"So... what's your name?" the keeper asked.
She narrowed her eyes cautiously. "Why?"
"So I can put it in a song. To make up for keeping you awake tonight."
She figured he meant to put her in some incident report, but he looked too hammered to even think about doing his job right. When he continued to stare expectantly, she sighed.
"Everly."
"Everly... A song for Everly..." His eyes lit up. "What if I called it Foreverly?"
Sparing the ground a longing glance, she made a face at him. "What if you put me down and we call it a night?"
~~~
(Author's note: Once again, I am at the mercy of the sunshine/grump trope :') Though I imagine that being around a drunk, unfamiliar giant would put anyone in a wary mood aslkdjf. BUT Micah's a good boy 💕 What do you think of their first meeting?)
Phil Everly was one of my great heroes,” McCartney wrote. “With his brother Don, they were one of the major influences on the Beatles. When John and I first started to write songs, I was Phil and he was Don.”
The Everly Brothers profoundly influenced 1960s-era artists ranging from Beatles John Lennon and Paul McCartney, who early in their careers called themselves the Foreverly Brothers, to Simon and Garfunkel, the Byrds, the Hollies and the Beach Boys.
I’ve had this album for a while. I like it a lot. Decided to pick up the vinyl when I saw it at the record store yesterday. Wow! The vinyl sounds really good! #cute #records #vinyl #billieandnorah #music #everlybrothers #foreverly https://www.instagram.com/p/BnEVBPtn0kp/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1werhuy1sf4nu
