He doesn't. And that's an interesting thought; he's not sure what to make of it.
"Same," he says, pitched to carry. (He thinks. Enjolras is enough of an orator to be very good at vocal control under ordinary circumstances, but he's still not 100% sure what's the right volume to be heard through a miraculous communication-watch some distance away.)
"I think I went to sleep -- I was upstairs, Feuilly and I had been working on that spreadsheet and plans for Lyon, I worked more before bed -- it's hazy. But I don't remember returning to Paris."
God, Paris. He's never ceased to miss it, but now that memory is newly fresh: being at Milliways, with the sure and unquestioned knowledge that Paris was just beyond the door, and that at any hour he could step back through and immerse himself in its beloved rush and crowds. Paving stones and French soil beneath his feet, France and her citizenry all around.
He curls a hand loosely before his mouth, elbow resting on hand, and listens for Combeferre and Joly's answers.
no subject
He doesn't. And that's an interesting thought; he's not sure what to make of it.
"Same," he says, pitched to carry. (He thinks. Enjolras is enough of an orator to be very good at vocal control under ordinary circumstances, but he's still not 100% sure what's the right volume to be heard through a miraculous communication-watch some distance away.)
"I think I went to sleep -- I was upstairs, Feuilly and I had been working on that spreadsheet and plans for Lyon, I worked more before bed -- it's hazy. But I don't remember returning to Paris."
God, Paris. He's never ceased to miss it, but now that memory is newly fresh: being at Milliways, with the sure and unquestioned knowledge that Paris was just beyond the door, and that at any hour he could step back through and immerse himself in its beloved rush and crowds. Paving stones and French soil beneath his feet, France and her citizenry all around.
He curls a hand loosely before his mouth, elbow resting on hand, and listens for Combeferre and Joly's answers.