#decourfeyrock

[apxllxascending-blog]

                                       decourfeyrock from (x)

       He coughed quietly and offered up a small smile at Courfeyrac’s intended joke — one that fell FLAT. At the invitation back to the apartment, he swallowed and nodded. He honestly didn’t know if he could go back — if he could face going back. There was just too much s h a m e within those four walls.

           “I’ll… see you,” he said in response, pressing his lips together. There was no “I love you,” no kiss, no hug, and it felt odd, wrong, even.

                          “...I’ll miss you,”

                                        —but too late; Courfeyrac was G O N E.

[intellxctuel-blog]

                                                  {decourfeyrock}

[apxllxascending-blog]

                     decourfeyrock  liked for a {starter} [open]

         Enjolras froze as the man entered the law firm he was interning at. He didn’t know exactly where, but he had a feeling he knew the other, that he’d seen him before, that they had been REALLY CLOSE FRIENDS. But where?

                               “C-c.... Courfeyrac?” 

         The unfamiliar ( yet strangely familiar ) name fell from his lips and he blinked a few times, standing. He couldn’t shake this feeling that the last time they had met... something B A D had happened. 

[lostinyourspxll-blog]

[text] Can u come pick me up? pls?

{ttCour: Yea, are you okay? Where are you?}

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

"Hello?"

13. They’ve just been attacked.

A quiet stroll with the poet, Jehan, consisted of small talk and poppies.  Babet hardly expected any danger to come of it and yet it had.  Somehow he had failed to notice the van that was tailing them on their way home until it was too late.  Men in masks quickly ambushed the two and subdued Babet while taking hold of Jehan, dragging the poet into the back of the van.  He would have stopped them, or at least tried to, if he was given the chance, but the dentist was unfortunately pistol-whipped to the point of losing consciousness.  When he awoke, there was blood pooled beneath his head, matting his hair down to one side of his head.  He saw a phone on the ground and identified it to be the poet’s, immediately calling the most recently contacted number.

“I’m not Jehan as I’m sure you can tell, but– listen I know the last thing you think you should do is trust me right now but please, if you want Jehan alive, you have to help me.”  

[lesamistheabc]

Someone hitting on Ferre? Courf glares from his seat as he watched the other man flirt with Combeferre at the cafe counter. After a minute where Ferre doesn't turn the man down or dismiss him, Courf approaches the two. He slides between them, staring up at the man from his tiny height with his chest puffed out. "Hi, I don't believe we've met. You are...?" He asks, his voice neutral while his body language is completely territorial.

He couldn’t help but smile at his friend. “Cher, calm down. Ruben, this is Courfeyrac, my boyfriend.” he wrapped an arm around the other’s waist.

[idleforce]

"Hey, it's okay. They won't find you here."

Gueulemer panted, his back pressed against the wall. Thanks were thrown by the wayside – there were more pressing matters. “Who are you, and why did you help me?” He didn’t believe for a second that he was safe here. 

[masquesous]

“I want you to tie me up so I can’t get away.”

Sous furrowed his brow. “Admittedly, I’m surprised. What’s this all about?”