Slow Fade
Written by: Adventure-Seeking-Juliet
When: The night before my AP test, fml.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N E/R Grantaire x Enjolras. Prompt: Enjolras's happiest memory of Grantaire. Reviews are appreciated. :) By the way, if you have any prompts for E/R I'll gladly take them. You can PM me or add them to your review.
Warning, the content below is angsty as fuck. Please excuse my french.
Loving Grantaire was a slow fade.
It happened in stages-in the small moments when Enjolras allowed himself to think his little life might actually count after all.
Enjolras couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love. Day by day he was amazed by the little things; the gleam in Grantaire's eyes when he made a particularly snarky witticism, the way he laughed too loud when he drank a little too much…and the way his eyes, which were usually guarded and hard, became soft and vulnerable when he noticed Enjolras staring.
Enjolras wanted nothing more than to love him, but he couldn't let himself lose sight of what mattered. If he let himself love Grantaire, his goals would vanish into long nights in loving embraces, empty cups, and Grantaire's eyes. No.
There is always a price for leaving a mark. Enjolras gave up his love in favor of lonely nights spent bathed in harsh candlelight, planning battles that would never come. Yet despite all of his best efforts, the cups were always empty.
The world didn't care about his lonely soul, so he tried to pull away from Grantaire. Love is a weakness a leader cannot possess. He ignored his friend, and Grantaire suffered, he knew, but Enjolras couldn't allow himself to be deterred. Loving Grantaire was wrong.
But as Marius decreed, what is wrong can seem right in the light of love.
He fell in love with Grantaire one day at a time, but when it came time to stand atop the barricade, he realized it all at once.
That night, Enjolras sat alone, pouring himself one last drink before the coming battle, but he didn't drink alone.
Grantaire set by his side, well into his fourth cup of the night. In the dark, Grantaire's eyes seemed a much brighter light than all of the stars in the sky.
Enjolras drained his cup in one long swallow," The people will come," he said, more to himself than anything," If they don't-"
Grantaire shook his head, swaying a little," I do not fight for the people, Enjolras."
For a moment, Enjolras felt his blood run cold. His skin tingled and his chest tightened at the thought of Grantaire abandoning their cause.
His friend caught the look on his face, but he only smiled," I fight for you. It's always been you."
Enjolras turned away from Grantaire's gaze. It was both penetrating and exposed. It was a look of love, a happiness Enjolras had never allowed himself to know.
But, it was the eve of their revolution, and a revolution was not a place for love. There would be time for that in the years to come.
Enjolras placed a hand on Grantaire's shoulder, making a promise with his actions that he could not say with his words.
It was then he knew. His little life wasn't defined by revolution or the people; it was defined by the love of one man.
He could only hope his love hadn't come too late.
A/N :/
