โGrantaire! Youโre early!โ Enjolras, honest-to-God, smiled at him, like he was glad to see him. Grantaire wanted to pinch himself. He was worried he was hallucinating. Except delirium tremens was supposed to be over after like, six days sober, max.
Thankfully at least part of his brain recovered enough to remember his gifted watch, and he took it out with a flourish, opening it to check the time. โWhy, yes, exactly eighteen minutes early, a personal record.โ
He looked up to see Enjolrasโ reaction but was once again left frozen when the man grabbed his hand to check the time for himself. Grantaire felt goosebumps race up his arm as Enjolrasโ hand made contact with his. It felt cool and perfectly smooth. Enjolrasโ lips were slightly quirked up as he examined the watch, apparently pleased to see his gift in perfect condition. Grantaire felt light-headed.
Grantaire was sure heโd reacted, in some way. Jehan must have, for sure. But for a moment, all he could see was the carafe, suddenly on that windowsill, one third full still, red-tinted fruit slices bobbing decadently.
His throat was so dry. Fuck, this was a mistake.
Why couldnโt he be normal, like every-fuckin-one else, just happy having his one or two or seven drinks, tipsy and chatty and decent fucking company.
He didnโt even know if heโd refused, or if Jehan did it for him, or if a higher power had intervened, but suddenly Courfeyrac, his pitcher of sangria and everyone else were leaving, and he was sitting on the windowsill right where the carafe had been. He took his head in his hands.
After an eternity, or no time at all, a body settled next to his. โPenny for your thoughts?โ
Grantaire huffed a laugh. Yeah, who else would it be?
โSorry, I justโฆโ Enjolras started, and Grantaire had to look at him, suddenly couldnโt stand to not knowing Enjolrasโ expression anymore. โIโm not sure how to be friends with you.โ
Direct as always, his Apollo. But never untruthful.
โIโm not too worried, you always seemed to champion impossibilities...โ He replied, and even he himself didnโt know if he meant it as a jab or a compliment.
Enjolrasโ eyebrows did an odd twitch, and he elected to take a sip of his offensively pink drink instead of replying. He looked violently beautiful, in this corner of the world, black sky at his back and lips tinged rose. Grantaire was desperate for a drink, to dull the sharpness that made his mouth taste metallic.
