Pops up, chucks a tiny angsty ficlet, disappears again…
Enjolras shouldered the door open, shivering against the sudden sting of icy air as he stepped outside. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to keep his teeth from chattering as he crossed the alley behind the Musain to where Grantaire was lurking next to the dumpster, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. “Thought you quit,” Enjolras said in lieu of a greeting, tucking his hands into his armpits to keep them warm.
Grantaire didn’t look remotely affected by the cold, and as he raised the cigarette to his lips, the orange glow from the tip lit his face in sharp relief. “Well,” he said, exhaling a puff of smoke, “you know what they say about bad habits.”
Enjolras jerked a nod. “Hard to quit,” he affirmed.
“Something like that anyway,” Grantaire said. He took another drag, tapping the cigarette against the top of the dumpster before asking, “Did you need something?”
Enjolras frowned. “What do you mean?”
Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Just out here to get warm, are you?” he asked, amused.
Since Enjolras’s teeth were now audibly clacking together, he supposed Grantaire had a point. “Just wanted to check on you,” he managed between shivers.
Grantaire rolled his eyes and reached out to draw him close, wrapping his free arm around Enjolras’s shoulders. “Idiot,” he said, with no small amount of affection. “Pretty sure the point of the whole breakup thing means you don’t have to check on me anymore.”
He said it lightly, but his arm tightened around Enjolras’s shoulders, just a little.
There were any number of things Enjolras wanted to say to that, but the problem was, when he was tucked like this against Grantaire’s side, warm and safe, the point of the whole breakup thing just seemed like a terrible idea.
He didn’t say that, though, just reaching out to pluck the cigarette from Grantaire’s fingers, raising it to his own lips. “Well,” he murmured, “bad habits, you know.”
