If We Had Survived... (Enjoltaire)

Chapter 12

And so awhile passed, Enjolras wasn't sure how long it was; he had lost all sense of time, but that was okay. What wasn't okay though, was the fact that Grantaire only seemed to be getting worse. And Enjolras refused to leave Grantaire's side, falling asleep on the floor often. And so it was one of these nights Enjolras had done his normal routine, his book in his hand, pulling the cot near and grasping Grantaire's hand, and whispered, "Good night, R," And tonight, he felt as if he had to add more, so he whispered, "I love you too, R, I really do,"

"Really?"

Enjolras dropped his book in shock, and it hit the floor with a loud thud. His eyes went wide as his breathing quickened and his heart rate increased.

"Yes, well, I do too. Or well, it's more-"

Enjolras cut Grantaire off with a sob. "Go away! You're dead! You can't be alive now! You're dead! I watched you die, R! I watched you die, dammit!"

Grantaire slowly got up wordlessly, taking a full minute to catch his breath, before limping over to Enjolras, suddenly tripping and landing heavily against Enjolras.

"No, no, no, no, I'm being delirious," Oh, and how it hurt to be delirious. How it hurt to gaze upon someone who was supposedly dead and used his final breath to say 'Enjolras, I love you'. But Grantaire felt so real against Enjolras. His cold hands wrapped around Enjolras' neck. The pained grimace on his face.

"Please, please just go. I can't have any more of this-" Enjolras was cut off by Grantaire smashing his lips against Enjolras's, though he didn't really get far because his breathing became uneven and choked before his eyes rolled back and he became limp, landing heavily in Enjolras's arms. His breathing steadied again, and he looked less peaceful than before - less alarming than before. He was less dead- more asleep. Things were okay now, or so Enjolras hoped.

Enjolras carefully lifted Grantaire onto the cot and laid him down, putting his head in his lap, bending down to kiss his forehead.