What Could've Been

    Grantaire had never been very confident or outgoing, and lately his life has been kind of rough. His parents died and gave all their money to his sister, and he lost his job in the matter of a week. So it was not uncommon for him to be hanging around a bar trying to drink away his problems. At first his drinking wasn't an issue, but soon his life loomed over him like an old rotting willow tree. Threatening to topple at any second and persistently pushing bottle after bottle into his hand.

    Everything seemed to be looking up when he met a gold haired man Enjolras, who's beautiful blue eyes took Grantaire's breath away the first time he'd seen him. Not long after that he found himself with a few of his friends in Les Amis de l'ABC. Everyone there was so passionate about their cause, especially Enjolras. His entire being seemed to revolve around ABC. For Grantaire he was primarily at the meetings because his friends were, and of course because E was there too. He didn't really believe in the cause at all, a result of his incurable, and to Enjolras insufferable, nihilism.

    "He has so much potential to make a real change," Enjolras seethed after a particularly ugly dispute with R. It seemed as though sometimes Grantaire strove to pick fights with him. Of course he knew this wasn't true. He's seen first hand how upset Grantaire gets when he hurts Enjolras during one of his drunken arguments. It was strange to him how someone so helplessly good hearted could have such a negative outlook on life.

    Unfortunately Grantaire had it in his head that he was a completely terrible person, this idea always found a way to cut through the layers of alcohol in his head. He knew the reason for it. It was E. E hated him. Shaming him non-stop, turning him away, and all the looks he gets from him were burned into his memory. One night after a meeting Enjolras stopped Grantaire before he had a chance to leave with the rest of the students.

    "Why are you here?" Enjolras asked searching Grantaire's eyes for any hint of truth in his words.

    "What do you mean, Apollo?" R responded, his voice cracking like a young boys. He hadn't expected this at all, he had thought E was going to start a fight with him again. The level of confusion, honesty, and disappointment left Grantaire bewildered.

    "You don't believe in our revolution, I know you don't. You could be doing so much good if you did, so why are you here? To make fun of us? Ridicule our ideas?" Enjolras took a step back and leaned against the wall, looking at the other man with pure curiosity. Grantaire wanted to draw Enjolras, to save that moment forever. The way his red jacket laid comfortably under his crossed arms, how his hair fell messily around his face. It all seemed oddly beautiful to him.

    "I'm here maybe not because I believe in the revolution but because I believe in you," It was the first time he'd said it before, and it was true. He could see Enjolras' breath get caught in his throat out of surprise, and felt his world closing in with every second his blue eyes stared at him.

    "I- uhm. I see, thank you," That was all E said before leaving Grantaire behind in the run-down room with nothing but empty chairs at empty tables and an empty wine bottle in his hand. Enjolras' taunts got lesser after that but as the rebellion neared Enjolras became more agitated with Grantaire and did not hesitate to vent his disdain at his expense.

    For Grantaire the sudden increase in agitation towards himself caught him off guard and he pondered what he'd done to make the leader so agitated. He found himself completely despondent. Drowning himself once again in alcohol, and disregarding his appearance. He felt like he needed Enjolras to be a whole person, but Enjolras did not need him. To Grantaire, Enjolras harshly repelled and rejected him. Each sharply worded comment was slowly chipping away at him.

    Then came the actual battle. Grantaire had made a mistake and drank too much before the battle, causing him to sleep through it all. When he awoke the room he was in was filled with soldiers guns aimed towards Enjolras. He could have easily lived, he didn't need to tell them he was for the revolution, but he couldn't live without E. There was nothing he wouldn't give to avoid being split from Enjolras. As the gunman took aim and Grantaire took his place next to Enjolras he uttered his final words, "Vive la France." then looked to Enjolras who was smiling at him and taking his hand.

    That night their bodies lie in the street. One right next to the other.