Enjolras is just lifting the coffeepot away from the second cup. He replaces it on the little burner, and brings both cups back in silence.
"Yes," he says, as he puts Combeferre's cup on the nightstand. "I've thought about that."
Never comfortably, but unavoidably.
His own coffee he sets down too, and sits next to Combeferre, their shoulders once again touching. "I hope that our worlds became one, somehow. Or else that whatever his fate, he's joined the rest of you from my own world, he and Courfeyrac and Grantaire."
The alternative is -- 'unthinkable' is a word that can't apply, because he can think it; he spent months living it. Milliways did feel like a Purgatory of sorts then. And yet, even for the sake of his other self, he couldn't possibly wish any of them elsewhere, unless they all went together.
no subject
"Yes," he says, as he puts Combeferre's cup on the nightstand. "I've thought about that."
Never comfortably, but unavoidably.
His own coffee he sets down too, and sits next to Combeferre, their shoulders once again touching. "I hope that our worlds became one, somehow. Or else that whatever his fate, he's joined the rest of you from my own world, he and Courfeyrac and Grantaire."
The alternative is -- 'unthinkable' is a word that can't apply, because he can think it; he spent months living it. Milliways did feel like a Purgatory of sorts then. And yet, even for the sake of his other self, he couldn't possibly wish any of them elsewhere, unless they all went together.