"You're good for nothing, fool,"
"You useless drunkard,"
"You are incapable of believing, living, and dying,"
Enjolras' eyes were cold as he stared at Grantaire.
"You are good for nothing, fool"
Grantaire trembled slightly. He couldn't speak. He so badly wanted to ask 'why?'. Why was he doing this? Why was Enjolras always so cruel to Grantaire? Why did his words affect Grantaire so much?
"You. Are. Good. For. Nothing." The words were like daggers.
And then Grantaire woke up. It was just a dream, that was all. And yet, everything Enjolras had said in the dream was things he had said to Grantaire.
Grantaire wanted to lay in his misery and die alone. What good was living when you meant nothing to the person you loved most?
And of course, Grantaire still would blindly stumble into the dark, if it meant following Enjolras.
Surely Joly would have something to say. But that was the thing- why did Grantaire have to survive instead of any of the other Amis?
"R?"
Oh god.
Oh god.
Dammit.
Grantaire didn't reply. Just stayed quiet, refraining from pulling his cramped arm up from its position, hanging off the cot.
He could hear Enjolras get up, where he was going, only Hell knew.
YOU ARE READING
If We Had Survived... (Enjoltaire)
FanfictionGrantaire wasn't afraid of dying, and with the Leader in Red, holding his hand, nothing could be better. Or perhaps it could've been... The confusion was real on Enjolras' face when he woke in Grantaire's arms. He was...alive?
