“Please leave. I would have peace tonight.”
Grantaire moves to go, but stops. “I would offer what help I can,” he says finally.
Enjolras turns around, a small agony, and they are face to face though now Grantaire will not meet his eyes. “And what help is that?”
Review: CANON ERA FIC! I just loved the way that this fic hashed out their clashing ideologies in a way that is revelatory and respectful to both of them, but doesn't inherently change anything. They don't fall into each others arms, they're still going to die, and honestly, they both know it. But even when, perhaps especially when, they're angry and exhausted and despairing, they can give these moments of understanding and kindness to each other. It's a harsh kind of comfort, but it is engrossing, for being that.















