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Marius sat down next to Combeferre at the bar, “Alright, let’s do this!” He was looking forward to his impromptu night out with his friend- he didn’t spend nearly enough time with him, and honestly he was surprised the other man agreed to it. “What’ll you have? I think I’m gonna do Grantaire proud and get some absinthe!”
Eponine, how have you been?
Oh you know combeferre just hangin in that’s about all I can do these days :)
29, 48, 52, 68, 81, 108, 112, 113, 135
29: What would you say is your best quality?
Enjolras is mostly good with words, though he doesn’t like to admit it aloud and he usually says it’s just due to the fact that he reads a lot and is always trying to learn new things. As it has also been mentioned before, though, he’s an excellent cook as well—something he surprisingly takes more pride on.
48: Say 10 facts about your room:
1. Every single corner of it extremely clean, tidy and spotless all the time, except from his desk, which is pretty much a mess, always full of books and papers.
2. The walls are painted blue. Enjolras initially thought of red, obviously, but he ended up forgetting about that idea because all his friends agreed/convinced him that red would be tiresome.
3. There’s a huge flag of France hung up on the wall next to his bed.
4. There is no TV, but Enjolras does have a laptop. He rarely gets hooked on any TV shows, but when he does, he likes to watch them online.
5. Needless to say, the shelf is filled with books… although he has so many there’s no room for all of them in it.
6. Enjolras’ closet is rather large having into account he’s not big on fashion and doesn’t own that many clothes. Guess what’s the use he’s giving to the free room in his closet? (Hint: it’s the rest of his books)
7. The bed is always made. Always. Enjolras’ friends normally wonder how he does it.
8. There is a second, small shelf that he uses for his CDs, because he’s very much into music as well as into books and he thinks there is nothing like purchasing the original stuff rather than downloading it.
9. He’s not a fan of having a ton of pictures scattered all over his bedroom wall, but there’s this particular one he and Les Amis took a couple years ago, and hanging it was actually the first thing he did when he, Courfeyrac and Combeferre moved in and he started organizing his room.
10. The rest of the pictures he owns are in a small box under his bed, along with some other things that are, in some way, special to him. Said things can be such as the first poem Jehan wrote for him or a messy sketch of him and Grantaire, which he drew on a paper napkin one day they were hanging out at the café.
52: Ever broken any bones?
Surprisingly, no. Enjolras grew up surrounded by people who always made sure to take good care of him, although he always felt more restrained than protected. As he grew up and left his parents, he’s been the one to take care of himself ever since.
68: Someone you’d like to be for a day and why:
Enjolras is one of those people who follow the ‘be yourself because everybody else is taken’ way of life and he’s rather proud of who he is, but if he were to choose he would probably pick anyone who’s got a great power so that he would be able to make all those changes he’s always dreamed of more easily.
81: Dogs or cats?
Cats, hands down. This can come off as a surprise because dogs are loyal and everything, but the truth is Enjolras doesn’t think he has the time enough to be in charge of an animal that needs constant care an attention. Cats, on the other hand, are way more independent and he believes he would be able to live with one if it were to happen. Of course, if it were in his hand, he would choose not to own a pet at all.
108: Who is someone you never tire of?
Combeferre and Feuilly. Seriously, he can get annoyed by any of Les Amis except for these two. (Though the actual truth is he would never get tired of any of Les Amis for real, because he cares too much about them, but still.)
112: If your best friend died, what would you do?
He just wouldn’t be himself again until he fully accepted it. He would probably shut himself off the world for a few days, lock himself up in his bedroom and cry until he thought there were no more tears left, and then he would bring the rest of Les Amis back together and make sure they were okay, and he would pretend to be okay and fight so hard to make things seem normal but he would still be human, and he would randomly burst out crying in the middle of a conversation or yell at anyone that mentioned his friend’s name because it’s just too soon.
113: Something you’ve lied about.
He usually lies to his friends about his sleeping/eating habits, though Combeferre and Courfeyrac mostly know him better than that.
135: Say 1 fact about the person you like:
At this point, Enjolras doesn’t like anyone so if you asked him this personally he would just huff and shrug, maybe tell you that if he ever started to like anyone he would let you know, but that’s about it. Then he would think it better and say that, no matter whether or not he ended up liking someone, and no matter who that person were, he would probably like someone that’s passionate and someone who can trust him and who he can trust completely.
Meet me (when they were young, you decide the age)
Gabriel Enjolras was like a little man.
Even though he was only seven years old, most of the things he did, or said, were proper of an older, more mature man—or, at least, that is what he had been told and what he had heard about himself. Of course, being only seven years old, that was mostly endearing for all the adults that got to meet him.
Still, as much of an “adult” he might look or sound like, he would not release his mother’s finger on his first day of school.
“Come on, Gabby,” his mother would tell him, ruffling his golden curls and giggling a little at his huff, an usual reaction from her son, “go play with the rest of enfants.”
“Don’t call me that, mama.” He pleaded sending her a terribly upset look—way too terrible for a seven-year-old kid—and pursing his lips together. Please, he was Gabriel Enjolras, the little man. There was no way in Earth he would accept being called Gabby.
“Alright, monsieur Gabriel, I shall not call you that in front of your new partners again,” she replied as seriously as she could, though she was obviously teasing him. “Now go find some new amis!”
Enjolras groaned silently and gave his mom’s thumb a last squeeze before hesitantly let go of her—after all, he was still a kid and it was still his first day of school—before looking around. The scenario in front of him was all but appealing: dozens of kids screaming and fighting against one another and refusing to share their toys (refusing to share their toys!) and crying because their moms were leaving.
This was not going to be a good first day of school, he told himself as he kept looking around, slowly and thoroughly analyzing every single little person in that classroom. His eyes stopped in a corner of the room, and he raised one eyebrow as his eyes widened ever so slightly when he got to see what was in front of his eyes. There was a kid holding a book on one of his hands and fixing his glasses on the bridge of his noise with the other. He was not screaming, not fighting against any other kid, not refusing to share his book—though there was no one around who seemed interested on it, so that was something Enjolras would have to wait and see—and certainly not crying because his mom was leaving.
Before he could stop himself, Gabriel was already slowly making his way towards the unknown kid.
“Bonjour, my fellow citizen,” he started after a few seconds once he had realized he was in front of the other child, clearing his throat rather loudly. “Excuse my impertinence, but I could not help but noticing how you are not… crying, like the majority of children in this classroom.”
The kid flashed a surprised look at Enjolras after fixing his glasses again, as if he could not quite understand his words or was just impressed that someone was talking to him. The blond child was unsure.
“Why would I cry?” He finally said, but Enjolras found he could not find a good answer to that question either, so he merely gave him a shrug of his shoulder and took a seat on the floor and leaned his back against the wall, next to him.
“What are you reading?” Enjolras was genuinely curious, because he loved reading and he loved that there was someone else in this place that seemed to love reading, as well.
“Animal Farm by Orwell. My dad says it’s a book that children can read, but it’s also a book for adults,” the kid explained, clearly proud to admit that he was smart enough to read books that were also for adults. Enjolras, on the other hand, was staring at him wide-eyed from the moment he pronounced the title of the book, and it took him a few seconds to respond.
“I’ve read it.” He shrugged, also proudly, but the smile he flashed to the other guy made him look like he was not trying to be smug. This time, it was the other boy’s turn to be surprised, his mouth gaping a little at the fact that maybe he was not the only kid smart enough to read a book that was also for adults.
“That is super cool!” He exclaimed before chuckling loudly. His laughter was soon enough accompanied by Enjolras’ because, after all, they were children and they would, sometimes, randomly laugh at the silliest things.
“My name is Gabriel. Gabriel Enjolras,” the blond child said after a while, when they had managed to calm down from laughing.
“I’m Frederic Combeferre. Can I call you Gabe?”
Enjolras considered it for a moment, even narrowing his eyes a little, and he reached the conclusion that it was not as serious as his name was, but it also wasn’t as ridiculous as Gabby, as his mama liked to call him.
“Sure.” He replied, smiling widely at Combeferre as he held his hand out for him.
Fight me.
“You cannot just act like you are a damn hero all the time, Gabriel!” Those words hit the blond man particularly close to home due to the fact that he indeed tried to be a hero all the time. Enjolras would probably not admit it out loud, or even to himself, but he did try. “You may think yourself capable to beat all of those men you confronted back there quite easily, but the truth is you are human and—”
“Just let it be!” Enjolras did not take much longer to finally snap at his best friend, his eyes filled with anger and disappointment—probably just on himself, though. “I am alive, am I not? They did injure me, but I surv—”
“They injured you!” Combeferre’s voice was, for once, louder than Enjolras’, and that did not fail to surprise the leader. Nevertheless, the other man was not willing to remain quiet when all he wanted was to state a point. “You cannot afford getting injured like that every time someone gets you angry! That is exactly what they are trying, Gabriel. They will try to get to you but you cannot let them. Besides, you are alright this time, but who knows if next time…” Combeferre sighed, shaking his head as he avoided looking at the other man.
Enjolras knew deep down that his friend was right. He—his comrades, even—needed his strength and health to be better than ever in order to be a good leader for the upcoming battle. He might not be the best at controlling his urges and nerves, which normally resulted in chaos whenever he confronted someone—chaos mostly for him, but he would have to try and fix that flaw of his personality if he wanted his friends to keep trusting him, if he wanted to remain healthy and, eventually, to succeed.
“You are right.” He muttered, sighing quietly as he looked down at his bruised knuckles. Combeferre’s eyes widened as he glanced up at his injured friend, probably not used to getting such words from him too often. “I apologize. I should not have risked my own well-being only because someone thought it opportune to get on my nerves, and I shall attempt to remain quiet and calm if that situation were going to happen again. You have my word.”
A comfortable silence followed Enjolras’ words, but soon enough, Combeferre nodded at him and patted his back a couple times before standing up from his chair and walking a few steps away from the blond’s bed.
“I will come check up on you later, mon ami. Take care of yourself.”
“Merci,” Enjolras added, smiling gratefully at one of the people who normally cared the most about him.
sleepy, drafts
Sleepy:
Gabe: [to Combeferre and Courferyrac] Morning, sunshines! Remember we're going to run today so I expect you two in the kitchen in fifteen. I'm making breakfast as I type!
__
Gabe: It's the first time in my entire life that I don't want to get out of bed. What did you guys do to me last night?
Drafts:
Gabe: Most of the time, I have no idea what I would do without you. Thanks for keeping me sane.
[He ended up sending it eventually, but the text was drafted for so long before he did so it counts shhh]
In a rage!
Gabe: WE RAN OUT OF COFFEE.
Gabe: IT’S FOUR IN THE MORNING AND WE RAN OUT OF COFFEE BUT I NEED COFFEE.
Gabe: I DON’T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND HOW UPSET I AM RIGHT NOW.
Open late!
Gabe: I heard that damn noise again and I swear if it's Henri fooling around again I'm going to set his bed on fire.
Gabe: Remind me why we're living with him again?
Gabe: ...fine, yes, he's our best friend. But he's a mess.
Gabe: A complete MESS.
Gabe: Alright, fine, I'll control myself. But he's cleaning tomorrow.
