Just Another Barricade

"Carolina." His voice was weak. "Just promise me you'll stay away from the barricade."

I swallowed, bobbing my head. "I promise, Enjolras."

He smiled, patting my head. Swiftly looking from side to side, he grabbed the bayonette and set off, his expression wild. It was one of my favorite expressions.

I silently stacked the cups on the table of the tavern, pushing in the empty chairs to the now empty tables. I let out a sigh, wiping my forehead.

"Having fun, Mademoiselle?"

Gavroche.

I rolled my eyes, flipping my hair at him. "None of your business."

He smiled, pulling out one of the chairs with a scrape of the wooden floor, plopping himself high on the table. "Mad you're told away from the barricade?" he asked, his crooked smile making my skin itch.

"No," I lied, wiping off the table one last time. I had to have it in perfect condition for the boys' next arrival.

"Oh, s'il te plaît." His voice became soft. "I know you want to."

"Stop," I demanded, standing before him. I adjusted my dress and spit in his face as I turned to leave, marching down the creeking staircase.

"You know you can't resist me, Carolina!"

"Tu as sont seulement douze, Gavroche."

He huffed. "Three years isn't that long once you think about it!"

I rolled my eyes. "You wish."

~Later~

"Listen everybody!"

The room quickly grew silent. As I lifted my gaze from my journal, my eyes locked with Gavroche.

"General Lamarque is dead."

The boys exchanged glances, and Enjolras swallowed. "Lamarque... His death is the hour of fate. The people's man... His death is the sign we await!"

I smiled, watching as they planned the uprising. I knew I'd be there no matter what my brother would say. It was my decision. My life to live.

"Carolina."

I jumped at the sound of my name. "Oui, Monsieur?"

"Another wine, s'il te plaît." Grantaire smiled as I gladly popped another cork on a bottle of wine, handing it to him, our fingers brushing. He smirked, winking, downing another shot of wine.

"Don't let the wine go to your brains," Enjolras sang as he leaned over the table with Joly and Lesgles. He eyed Grantaire with a smirk, shaking his head.

He smiled over his shoulder at him, continuing to stand next to me. "A little tense, are we today, Enjolras?"

I smiled softly to myself, watching as his blue eyes connected with mine.

"Grantaire, you're incapable of believing or thinking or willing or living or dying."

He rolled his eyes, taking one last sip, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his stained white shirt. He waved one last time before slipping down the stairs after Lesgles.

I let out a dazed smile, and soon everyone was off. Enjorlas sat alone at the table, sighing heavily to himself. I rolled my eyes, taking my rag to the table he sat at. "What's wrong today?" I asked him jokingly.

He stared blankly at the table, his expression unchanged.

I set down my rag, walking behind him, resting my hands on his shoulders and rubbing them unit he wasn't as tense. "Relax, mon frère."