Falling In Flames,
A Les Miserables fanfcition
By Aparupa Chakravarty
Chapter 1
It was a cold winter night when the young man walked in blindly into the room. He smelled of alcohol and dirt. "Grantaire, is that you?" said a young man. The lights were out. There was no electricity for a couple of hours now. Grantaire groggily tried to make his way towards his bunk. The moonlight was peeping in through the drapes that hung from the window pane. It was just another cold winter night in the 19th century France.
"Grantaire? Did you drink again?" inquired the same young man. In reply he received an unintelligent laugh. "R, why don't you listen to me?" Combeferre tried to reason as he continued, "drinking like this, without any limit is only going to do harm to your body and nothing else." Grantaire just muttered profanities under his breath. "Did you listen to a single word I said?" Combeferre whispered, making sure he didn't wake the other boys up. Right above his bunk, Feuilly muttered something in sp. "Grantaire?" Combeferre sat up and tried a failed attempt to focus on Grantaire's face but the moonlight wasn't enough. After a brief moment of silence, Grantaire finally replied, "'Ferre, will you please stop talking in God's name? My head is throbbing and I cannot think straight. We shall have this conversation tomorrow morning. But for now, I ask you to leave me alone."
"But R…" Combeferre tried to speak but was cut off. "Not right now." Grantaire said, his voice hinting anguish.
"Do you want me to fetch you some water, at least? You might feel better." Combeferre tried.
"Go off to slumber 'Ferre." Grantaire said, and lied down on his bunk. He could feel his friend's eyes burning holes in him but ignored it. He was in no mood for all of this tonight.
"Alright." Combeferre finally sighed moments later and lied back down on his bunk. He was worried about Grantaire. He had started drinking more often and it was doing him no good. Rather than buying books for his education, Grantaire spent all his money on alcohol and cigars. Their other friends always helped him arrange for the necessities for education but how long could that go on? Combeferre felt that rather than making the amis toil for him, he should take up his own responsibilities. That is how Combeferre was. His friends called him 'Ferre. He adored all of his friends and always worried about them. To them, he was the guide and kind of a life-support. He always made sure that everyone was happy and content. He was a handsome man, with fine blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. While thinking about his friend, Combeferre drifted off to sleep.
Meanwhile, Grantaire tossed and turned in his bunk for he had drank too much that evening. All his friends were asleep and slight snores were heard in the room. His head was throbbing yet he didn't close his eyes. Instead, he looked at the moon and smiled. His smile was weary and he seemed discontent. The moon looked beautiful that particular night and gave away an aura of hope and desire. The moonlight lighted up Grantaire's face. His hair was shabby and his attire was covered in dirt but he did not really mind it. He felt, for a moment, content. As if he was complete. But that feeling was short-lived as Grantaire slowly drowned in his loneliness. It was not that he did not love his friends. He did, with all his heart he did. But he felt that love from his friends was not enough. He wanted someone to love him for who he was. Someone to cherish him. Someone who could give him hope when he lost all.
He was lonely and empty that way. He waited and waited but that special someone never came along. Did his soul mate even exist? Grantaire often found himself wondering. Will he ever find someone? He let out a small laugh. It was probably just the alcohol messing with his mind. He was still looking at the moon. The light got dull as the clouds hid the moon behind them. The room felt chillier so Grantaire pulled the covers up to his chest. The nights grew colder with each passing day and it felt like France would never see the face of summer again. "Oh summer, I wish you would come soon." He said out loud. "Summer who? Did R find himself a girl?" He heard Courfeyrac asking from his top bunk. "Are you out of your mind Courfeyrac?!" Grantaire exclaimed. He got frightened there for a moment. "Well you are the one who drinks without a limit so no, I am not out of my mind, monsieur." Courfeyrac let out a small laugh.
"It was so funny, wow. You should try your hand at comedy, Courf." Grantaire said, sarcastically.
"Now now, R. Tell me about this lady Summer." Courfeyrac tried asking his friend.
"Summer who?" Grantaire was now confused.
"You just said that you want Summer to come soon." Courfeyrac stopped for a moment realizing his stupidity. "You were talking about the season, weren't you?" He said, embarrassed.
"And they call me drunk." Grantaire muttered under his breath.
"Heard that." Courfeyrac replied.
"Glad you did." Grantaire said sternly and that did shut his friend up.
The clock ticked one. It was past midnight and Grantaire wasn't able to sleep yet. His head was throbbing and his mind was going in circles. He was again regretting drinking so much that evening yet, this whole situation seemed some-what hilarious to him. He tried to give up his sleep and focused on the moon again. Being the dreamy character he is, R started imagining things. The moon intrigued him even when he was a child. But then again, he did not use to get drunk and dream about the moon. Things were different when he was a child. Everything was… happy. Grantaire did long for that happiness sometimes but that did not mean that he was not content with what he had now. He believed that lamenting over the past was just a waste of time. After all, the past is the past. One can neither get it back, nor can one change it. It was just there to teach you lessons of life and nothing else. With all these thoughts wandering the drunkard's mind, soon darkness took over him and he fell into a deep sleep.
