He Was Antinous

Death, with its inky black tendrils and malevolent tendencies, couldn't haunt him in his dreams, because blue eyes and golden hair and kind hands already did. Death couldn't strike him as absolutely paralyzed as life could, which was pathetic, if Grantaire stopped to think about it, because life had nothing on Enjolras.

'My world starts and ends with you', Grantaire thinks. And somehow, because life is cruel and a dark sense of humor apparently comes with the job description, it isn't even a lie.

But Grantaire can deal. He can deal because he's dealt before and he's never stopped dealing, and stupid, innocuous things like hearts that beat too fast too loud in certain company, and thoughts that stray too far, and skin that prickles hot when you meet the eyes that greet you in your sleep, can't break a cardboard prince if he believes it hard enough.