(no subject)

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Bossuet is here. Grantaire deserves to be told.

For several reasons, Grantaire deserves to be told. If possible, before they encounter each other.

Accordingly, once he's seen Bossuet to his new room, Enjolras sets out in search of Grantaire. His lodgings first; if he isn't there, then the library, or the lawn after that.

Comments

[the_obverse]

"Only if there's anything else you'd tell me." Grantaire's eyes flick to the closed door, and he takes another step back, to lean against the wall. "I won't keep you here."

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Enjolras considers. Shakes his head.

"No."

"After I've spoken to Bossuet, I'll tell you of it."

[the_obverse]

Grantaire nods.

"I hope I'll soon speak to him myself."

Another flash of a grin, there and then gone.

"He's a man who laughs."

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Enjolras's mind is already on plans and tactics, the autopsy of a failed revolution and the changes that might remedy some of its disasters. But all the same, his lips twitch at that sally.

He knows himself. If lack of laughter's a fault, then yes, it's one of his.

Grantaire is on the other side of the room; it's not so large, but still, it divides them. Enjolras doesn't reach to press his arm or shoulder as he might otherwise. Instead, after that brief instant of humor, he turns to let himself out.

[the_obverse]

Enjolras leaves.

Another man might take a moment to consider the vast tangle of emotions generated by the conversation of the past few minutes.

Grantaire, being Grantaire, takes the far more sensible route of circumventing all emotions whatsoever by going straight back to his interrupted sleep.