pro_patria_mortuus: Enjolras's dead body hanging symbolically out a window (a tomb illuminated with the dawn)
Enjolras ([personal profile] pro_patria_mortuus) wrote 2015-05-13 04:39 am (UTC)

It's a complicated question, with a complicated answer. Enjolras has another swallow of coffee while he considers his words.

"Strange."

"I would have liked to have seen more of it to answer better. We were only there a little while. And there were crowds everywhere -- it wasn't an ordinary morning."

"It was -- inexpressibly good to be back." Enjolras has never been a man to conceal his emotions, especially from a friend. His voice is quiet, but it's not to hide; his feelings are bared, in that quiet admission.

"But it wasn't our Paris. 1885!" They've learned, at Milliways, to speak knowledgeably of years in the 20th century, the 21st; all the same, 1885 was the unimaginably far future once, and in some ways still is. "After all Haussmann's work -- Combeferre, we stood on the rue Mondétour. And I didn't know it, until I saw the street sign."

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