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Enjolras Needs a Roommate: Part Two

LINK TO PART ONE

•in the two weeks since Grantaire moved in, things weren't so bad.

•if he was being honest, he expected the house to be in flaming shambles within a week without 'Ferre.

•('Ferre did also)

•Grantaire did an awful lot of keeping to himself.

•which was totally fine, don't get Enjolras wrong, but he was used to having Combeferre, the overly affectionate, mother hen roommate.

•but he missed Shark Tank Saturday, and he felt like he didn't know a thing about the guy living in his extra room.

•Enjolras walked down the very tiny hall from his room to 'Ferre's 'Taire's one day, after a particularly boring lecture and before a particularly long shift.

•then he knocked.

•the soft guitar inside the room stopped and Enjolras already regretted knocking. he would rather have never knocked and just stand there listening to that guitar.

•again.

•the door swung open to reveal Grantaire's unkempted everything.

•"what can i do you for?"

•Enjolras hadn't really put any good thought into what he was going to say. he's been told he's a powerful speaker or some shit, but he knew, deep down in his heart, that he was a flounderer.

•a flounderer with a grand total of three friends and know idea how to make new ones.

•"so, erm, how're you? your guitar... you're really good at guitar."

•oh dear god.

•Grantaire leaned up against the door frame. everything he did was effortless, which grandly pissed off Enjolras.

•"thanks, man."

•"ha, yeah, anytime."

•"so..."

•"so... shit, right. can i make you a cup of coffee or something? i realized i know, like, nothing about you, and i mean, we live in the same place, so let's talk. if you're busy, or don't want to that's—"

•"yeah, okay."

•look at you!! a d u l t i n g

•Enjolras wasn't one to brag, but he worked at a café for a reason, he made a decent café latte so, that's just what he did.

•Grantaire wondered if this deal could get any better. dirt cheap rent (because the place was a shithole. you take what you can get), quiet, hot roommate, hot roommate who can make good coffee.

•he couldn't stop staring at Enjolras. steaming milk wasn't the most interesting task, but Enjolras' bone structure, and the lip biting.

•fuck.

•Enjolras opened with: "so, did you hear about the plot to assainate Macron?"

•"as a citizen of France, i did."

•"ha, yeah."

•well, this was awkward.

•"so, what're you at school for again?"

•thank god.

•"oh! I'm a poli-sci major. and working towards being pre-law."

•"fancy."

•"not really, just expensive."

•it was quiet again, but it was less weird this time.

•Enjolras set down the two cups of coffee.

•"how long have you been playing guitar for?"

•"fuck me, uh... forever and a day?"

•"you're really good. do you play shows? because you absolutely should."

•"shut up. selling my art already makes me feel like a sellout, but that? too much for now."

•"so, you paint?"

•"and sketch. and sculpt. whatever."

•i hope he doesn't ask to see my art.

•"could you show me your art sometime?"

• G O D D A M M I T

•"maybe."

•the next fucking day, Enjolras had gotten up, showered, gotten dressed, and ran down the hall, trying to leave for school, when he saw it.

•above where the TV, and the TV stand used to be, across from the couch that was no longer there, in place of the former Kingcade painting

•was a Grantaire original.

•it didn't have a frame or anything, but it was beautiful.

•late for school, or not, he stepped in to examine it.

•it was signed with a capital R, and dated yesterday. the title was also written in the bottom right corner.

•Brutus at the Pulpit or Twink Speaks his Mind in oil and charcoal.