@courf-the-lawstud-ent Continued from X
Courfeyrac had been moving around over the past few weeks, never staying in one place for too long and trying to keep his ears open for any news on friends. Some had not been so lucky to get away and had been rounded up, some he was sure were dead, others… he had no idea and he only hoped that no news was good news.
He had been staying with friends he trusted and hoping to not get them in trouble, but he also knew he needed to gather a couple of things from his quarters before figuring out what he would do next. He was sure Enjolras would want them to rally and continue, but it just seemed too dangerous now. Especially when he had hardly heard from anyone, which concerned Courfeyrac as he was used to always knowing what his friends were up to.
He took a deep breath and tried to quietly limp around the room. He was dirty and had scratches all over his body and knee had been hurting ever since he had fallen on it too hard in his escape. He quietly opened a drawer, stuffing a couple of cravats, a pair of breeches, and shirts into a bag. He looked around once more and walked towards his book shelf when he suddenly heard knocking on his door. His heart dropped and he waited, terrified he had been found. He looked around but couldn’t find a hiding spot and waited with bated breath in the dark. When nothing else happened he slowly crept towards the door. He adjusted the cap low over his head, before he opened the door a sliver.
Upon seeing Feuilly at his door and involuntary sound escaped him and he threw the door open before hugging Fieully fiercely, tears already cascading down his cheeks
Feuilly had watched Bahorel die, his best friend, who truthfully had been more than a friend. though they’d not let anyone know. He’d watched him die, and Feuilly didn’t know if he could go on. He wasn’t sure who else had escaped. He’d stayed at Bahorel’s place, not sure if it was because he knew no one would look there, Bahorel was dead, or because he didn’t want to leave his friend behind. Eventually though, he knew rent would run out, he’d have to leave before the rooms were rented out to someone else.
The first place he’d gone was Enjolras’s rooms. It was stupid to think he’d find anyone there, or that he’d find Enjolras at least. He had taken as many of Bahorel’s waist coats as he could, he didn’t think he could ever wear them, but he was certain that he couldn’t part with them. Enjolras hadn’t been in his rooms, so Feuilly went to Combeferre’s. It was harrowing, traveling across Paris not sure if the Friend he was calling on would be home, and not know if they weren’t there because they were on the run, or because they were dead.
Then he’d gone to Joly’s place next, it was closest to Combeferre both of them living near the hospital but no, such luck. He had a long list to work though, so many more friends that he couldn’t count on being alive let alone being at their home. So he’d made his was across Paris, stopping at Marius’s rooms, something had been off about Marius when he’d come to the barricade, it was as if he was fighting for his own death, he was not surprised when he was turned away. He was surprised to hear that Marius was rich now, that he’d married. Feuilly shook his head, Courfeyrac, was next, both the closest and the best to find out what was going on.
He wasn’t expecting anything when he knocked on Courfeyrac’s door, but then, seeing Courfeyrac there, it was like a weight lifted off his chest. He wasn’t alone, not all his friends had died. He hugged Courfeyrac back, despite never being one to love displays of affection he couldn’t help but hug Courfeyrac back.
“Courfeyrac, how, oh Courfeyrac.” Feuilly pushed his face into Courfeyrac’s neck dropping the bag that held his meager belongings. He wasn’t alone, was the only thing he could think, He wasn’t alone.
