Waiting Here/// Les Mis.✔

20

Morning has come and it was painted red.

A fairly young man decorated in metals unmounted his horse going to the nearest officer. "My Prince Timothée we were not expecting you my apologize you have to see this mess", the officer was slipping through his own words.

"Please drop the titles, is this the last barricade", Timothée went straight to bussiness after searching through the last two hearing rumors of his sister.

"Yes, they sure had pulled a fight to the end. I was there myself and we've lost three times as they had but we still put them in place", the officer had a smug smile. "You shouldn't get all cocky you had killed the same blood and name that flows through you", Timothée never agreed with the government nor the man he called father. But, he couldn't just drop his family name. He couldn't drop Clara if his father was giving his the support he needed to find her.

"All them are here except for the three on the loft. They have quite the death lock on each other", the officer reported before excusing himself leaving Timothée anxious. He looked above the building to see a man around his age hanging halfway. He had a red flag in his right hand as barely in his left you see another holding his. The man seemed almost like a greek statue made of flesh to Timothée.

Through the street bodies were layed down of the young and old men as women scrubbed the blood off the pavement. Some of them frozen in time with blood scattered other smiling which he found strange. A little boy he passed had a metal on his coat, that some soldier had left.

Entering what use to be a Cafe was in ruins. The tables and chairs were missing and instead were replaces with bullet holes and blood splatters. Timothée looked to find a way to the loft but the staircase itself was missing its stairs. "They must have really pulled a fight", he slightly laughed pulling himself up to the loft.

"Clara, Grantaire", his voice was shaky when he saw the other two bodies. She was propped against the wall holding the hand of the man who was half way out of the window and her other on Grantaire. Grantaire was  head was leaning against the crook of her neck, his eyes already closed. It looked like he was sleeping but it was impossible from the noticable shot wounds bleeding through his shirt.

Slowly Timothée pulled back the body hanging from the window inside. Clara was stuck in the position of staring at this mystery man forever. The fabric of her burgendy dress barely showed the shot wounds and blood. He hugged the remaining of his sister dispite the less uncomfortable position now. Tears were spawning from his eyes and falling on her. He wanted to unhook there hands from her when he notice the rings.

"So, this is why you wouldn't drop and come back", Timothée wiped his face in his sleeve. "For your country, for your friends, and now for your lover", he kissed her forehead which was colder then ever and looked at the matching ring on the man in red.

He slowly pulled out his own locket that was one of a pair. Inside was the picture of himself and Clara, Timothée never had the heart to fill in the other side if his sister was the one who kept him going all these years. He looked at the locket he gave her and saw the same picture he had. The other side was a drawing of Grantaire, Clara, and the man in red.

"You will have my heart always, and I will live on your legacy", he put both lockets around her neck and closed her eye lids. "Thank you for caring for her when I wasn't there", he faced Grantaire. "Thank you for loving her til the end", Timothée closed the man in red's eye lids and wished he got to knew him before.

"I want all of them buried, the three on the loft they must all be together. Have the residence identify each of them. This is an order", Timothée's face darkened while he barked at the nearest officer. They had nodded and went straight to work. From the corner of his eye he saw a stray teen wandering around.