#enj threads

[antoinecombeferre]

@barricadedfreedom continued from X

Stubborn as he was, Enjolras would never admit he was cold. He had to be though. This protest was an overnight sit in. It was winter. All Enjolras was wearing to stay warm as his red faux leather jacket and black gloves. Oh, and a black scarf someone had gifted him. It was warm enough for short walks but definitely not warm enough for an overnight sit in.

Somehow the blond had managed to keep his teeth from chattering and his body from shivering. His lips betrayed him though, turning some shade between blue and purple.

Almost everyone had fallen asleep now, whether it be from the liquor they consumed before or being tired; each equally likely. Enjolras was leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around himself as if he could somehow keep himself warm.

Combeferre’s voice startled him. Enough that if he were near to falling asleep, his voice definitely woke him up. Enjolras looks over at him and shakes his head. “I’m fine.” He looks ahead again. “I thought you were asleep.”

Combeferre was mentally taking note of all his friends, all the volenteers, some had blankes or sleeping bags wrapped around their shoulders, others were huddled under huge coats. When everyone was accounted for his eyes fell back on Enjolras, the man didn’t even have a true winter coat. His lips were nearly purple, Combeferre didn’t need to be Joly to know his friend was cold.

He ignored Enjolras insisting he was fine, it would be a losing battle. His friend clearly wasn’t but there would be time for that later. “I drank enough coffee to make it though....probably.” Combeferre wasn’t sure if that was true, at least not yet, he did have two thermoses full of coffee though to make sure he was awake. They had a rotation set up, to make sure someone was up at all times, but still Combeferre worried enough for his friends that he couldn’t sleep. All it would take is one asshole with a hose and they’d all end up with hypothermia.

Combeferre reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a knit hat, he’d brought it for Courf, the man was always forgetting a hat, but someone else had brought a spare and was closer when Courf started complaining about his cold ears He held the hat out to Enjolras. “Here, if you wont come sit with me, at least take this.” In truth getting Enjolras to sit with him was as much for Enjolras as it was for himself. He was getting cold, and if the Weather Channel was on to anything, it was only going to get colder. Besides, if Enjolras was sitting with him he couldn’t get up and go smoke. “Your hair is wonderful, but it can’t be keeping your ears very warm.”

[bastiengrantaire]

@xspectabund​ said ->  " here's a strange look in your eyes." [ enj ]

Grantaire couldn’t help but roll his eyes at this. “Perhaps it’s the weed.” There was however a truth to what Enjolras said, there probably was a strange look in Grantaire’s eyes, in addition to the weed of course. He’d spent the night listening, actually listening to Enjolras. He’d not spent much time trying to come up with anything to say to Enjolras, it was quite unusual, he’d hoped it had escaped notice. 

In truth Grantaire didn’t have much excuse for his silence. Perhaps it was the jacket Enjolras had worn today, maybe he was either too high or not high enough. At any rate he’d taken to listening rather than talking, glad to watch Enjolras. And Enjolras had taken notice.

“it’s usually the weed.” Grantaire grinned as best he could. “with me at any rate” that and I’m in love with you,  Grantiare thought. 

[antoinecombeferre]

@xspectabund​ continued from here X

As always, there was reason in Combeferre’s response. It was true that in pain laid feeling and feeling meant an emotional response to a stimuli. Which ultimately meant that though responding naturally to other things was lacking, it was still there. There was knowledge that led to this pain—since in this instance the two were discussing emotional pain, rather than physical— and there was still life and living, experiencing to have had that occur. Or to even have a preconceived notion of if to feel pain in that instance— rejection.

               They were discussing romantic rejection.

Sure, Enjolras’ game had never been the most fresh, due to an unmeasured amount of self inflicted workload. Reasonable: if one’s attention was in a single thing so passionately, it couldn’t often be spared for others. But as the aforesaid sentence stated, it was self inflicted. Meaning that Enjolras could grant himself the space and time. He had no excuse. And Combeferre was calling him out on it, as a good friend should. Enjolras had said something along the lines of that “besides, he had (I have) no time for rejection”. Hence the reminder.

           “Look— as I said, it just takes too much energy and time and all for it to possibly amount to nothing. I would rather spend my time in this”, the blond lifted the papers and waved them lightly, “Than the pretence that some person and I will live a cherry merry happy life– when most of those dates, regardless, I’m bound to never see the person again. So, there.” That swerve ball had been thrown olympically as to avoid the matter of rejection. Enjolras didn’t fear or care for rejection. Right?

Combeferre had always loved Enjolras. They’d been friends for a long time, close friends. In that time neither of them had done much for their romantic lives. Though for many different reasons. This however was far more silly than any other of their reasons. They’d always fallen back on not having any time at all, even when Bahorel had them all download Tinder. 

“Enjolras,” Combeferre set his coffee cup down smiling “Listen, if you didn’t have time that would be one thing,” the gods knew Combeferre didn’t have time, though he’d occasionally tried to make time for it. This though, this was quite different. 

“If you don’t want to go out on dates simply because you didn’t want to that would be another thing but this-” Combeferre waved his hand at the papers. “It’s important I agree, we all do important work, but you have to make time for other things, for life Enjolras.” Combeferre shook his head. Combeferre cound understand his best friend’s drive, but he also knew that that drive could be dangerous. How often had they stayed up

[bastiengrantaire]

@barricadedfreedom Continued from X

What the hell just happened?

Enjolras was standing in front of Grantaire, wide eyed and confused. One minute they were arguing about the importance of social justice in modern society and then somehow in the middle of that Grantaire was complimenting Enjolras? Enjolras couldn’t even remember what he said but somehow it didn’t quite fit with the topic of conversation. Enjolras was done. He turned to walk away from the stoner but didn’t even make the full turn when Grantaire asked him to stop.

“What?”

“don’t leave.” Grantaire said again pushing his hair out of his face. “you heard me.” Typical Enjolras, walking away when things didn’t go the way he liked. ANd apparently light flirting was part of something he didn’t like. Too bad, he’d have to grow up and say he didn’t like it not just walk away.

“You weren’t listening to me, you- I didn’t say.” Grantire huffed as his hair fell back into his face, he pushed it back again. “you, you can’t just walk away.” 

In truth Grantaire loved these discussions. Everything Enjolras was saying was absolute bullshit, and nothing was going to change the world. But Enjolras, there was something about the passion with witch Enjolras believed he would change the world, that was addicting.

[nadirfeuilly]

@barricadedfreedom Continued from X

Enjolras was in the process of changing the bandages on his arm. He did get shot at. A protest went a little far, things were set on fire, the cops showed up. It was a mess and he couldn’t quite say what was the deciding moment that made the police draw their weapons. The shots missed but trying to get away, and lead protesters to safety, he cut his arm on a stray piece of metal. Joly did him the favor of stitching him up so he wouldn’t have to go to the hospital and instantly become a suspect.

“You sound surprised.” Says Enjolras, looking up from his wound as he finishes removing the bandage it was wrapped in, the gauze sticking to it due to the dry blood. “Glad you guys left early. It got ugly.”

“Surprised?” Feuilly raised an eyebrow looking up from picking the nail polish off his nails. “Only a little. I’m more surprised they missed in your bright red jacket.”

He went back to his fingernails, lucky his job almost always required gloves, however he wasn’t going to chance it a second day, showing up at the steel mill with painted nails was too dangerous, he shouldn’t have done it once but time there was only so much time in a day.

“Well, the night shift waits for no one.” Feuilly usually tried to only do things on his off days, but this was important, and he didn’t have a union meeting like usual he was going to be awake anyways.

“The Miners are striking up North, They are sure people are going to be arrested and I was wondering if we could do jail support? Some of the steel workers are going to be there but you know, bigger groups are always better for that sort of thing, more phones and cars and cash to help people get home and tell their family they’re fine.” 

In general Feuilly didn’t like asking that of his friends, it always seemed better to him to keep the two groups separate. He knew his colleges hardly likes spending time with “university brats” no matter how well intentioned, but it didn’t sound like they could put enough people together for jail support, Feuilly knew how much it sucked to come out the other side and not have anyone there. Besides he trusted his friends not to start shit, they were good guys and at the end of the day everyone needed to work together if things were going to change. 

“It doesn’t have to be the whole crew, I won’t make it it’ll be my second of three night shifts I think, I’ll have to count again, but I’m pretty sure I’m working at any rate, but if we could just have three or so people there, it would help.”