[ Grantaire is a drunkard in the purest sense of the word. “Drunk” and “intoxicated” have become more than just habitual. They’ve become his default state of being, but this doesn’t make him an unwise man. He can see, even through the heaviest of wine-induced fogs, how Enjolras despises him. In fact, he sees it more clearly in those times than he ever could while sober. It really is ironic. He drinks to forget life and living, but ends up being confronted with it regardless of how addled his mind may be.
Even now, he can tell that Enjolras has grown even more displeased with him as of late, and he’s certain that it has something to do with his visit to the Cafe Richefeu. He hasn’t forgotten. For a moment, however brief that moment may have been, he had managed to strike some sort of optimism into his cynical heart. He was able to make himself believe that he could be wholly and seriously devoted to the cause, just like everyone else. It was only a passing fancy, however, and it had passed as quickly as it had come. After another drink of wine, a friendly game of dominoes seemed far more important than pretending to place any belief in the Revolution.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel somewhat guilty.
As his friends begin to empty out of the Musain at the end of a particularly energetic evening, Grantaire clambers to his feet, knocking an empty bottle off of his table in the process. ]
Enjolras.
[ He makes to reach for the other man’s arm, but rethinks this actual surprisingly quickly. A+, good move. ]
Whoever may have told you about the Richefeu—perhaps it was Lesgle. Who else would be unfortunate enough to stumble upon me? None the less, I’ve disappointed you. Let me try once more. I can do as I said. The group at the Richefeu will be half-hearted no longer if you’ll give me one last chance.
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im ruining the timeline here but hope u can deal because it’s SOMETHING amirite okay look a tag
Even now, he can tell that Enjolras has grown even more displeased with him as of late, and he’s certain that it has something to do with his visit to the Cafe Richefeu. He hasn’t forgotten. For a moment, however brief that moment may have been, he had managed to strike some sort of optimism into his cynical heart. He was able to make himself believe that he could be wholly and seriously devoted to the cause, just like everyone else. It was only a passing fancy, however, and it had passed as quickly as it had come. After another drink of wine, a friendly game of dominoes seemed far more important than pretending to place any belief in the Revolution.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel somewhat guilty.
As his friends begin to empty out of the Musain at the end of a particularly energetic evening, Grantaire clambers to his feet, knocking an empty bottle off of his table in the process. ]
Enjolras.
[ He makes to reach for the other man’s arm, but rethinks this actual surprisingly quickly. A+, good move. ]
Whoever may have told you about the Richefeu—perhaps it was Lesgle. Who else would be unfortunate enough to stumble upon me? None the less, I’ve disappointed you. Let me try once more. I can do as I said. The group at the Richefeu will be half-hearted no longer if you’ll give me one last chance.
I went back to read the scene in question and now my heart hurts
ur welcome
I'm too lazy for that small text html
wow well fine
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....I CANT COUNT IT'S SIX MONTHS LATER