Pacing back and forth through the room, Jehan kept rambling on about everything and nothing, nervously tucking strands of hair out of his braid.
"Stop." was the single word muttered from the corner on the other side of the room. The young poet stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face Courfeyrac, who was slouched down on the couch, a blanket lazily slung around his legs and a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. Jehans eyes went wide and his fingers stayed where they were, tangled in his hair. His mouth fell open and he had his gaze fixed on the curly haired man in the corner.
Courfeyrac slowly rose from where he was sitting, put his cup on the table next to him and made his way over to Jehan. His hands found their way on the poets back and he pulled him into a tight embrace. Jehans head was resting on his chest and Courf placed his chin on to of it.
"Stop." he mumbled again and wrapped his arms tighter around the other man's shaking frame. "I'm sorry." he said. "I didn't mean to get you all worked up and worried about it. I just thought you wanted to know..."
"I did... I do. It's just, what if it doesn't work out?" Courfeyrac offered his boyfriend a gentle smile. "They will be just fine, you know they will, Jan." Feeling the smaller man shake his head, Courfeyrac couldn't help but chuckle. He ran his fingers through the loose strands of blonde hair that were falling down his chest. Slowly being calmed by this motion, Jehan stopped shaking after a few minutes had past.
"You alright?"
"No." he stuttered out, being honest. "But can we just... cuddle?"
Courf pulled his boyfriend down on the couch, wrapped the blanket he had discarded earlier around them and planted a soft kiss on Jehans forehead. He intertwined their fingers and glanced down at the small band of gold that was wrapped around the small digit that was Jehans ring finger. Jehan was his fiancée. Even after two months, Courfeyrac still felt as excited and joyful as he did the night he asked his poet to marry him.
"I love you." he said, simple and matter-of-factly, but the reply he was about to receive was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone on the table. Within the blink of an eye, Jehan jumped off the couch, his legs still tangled in the blanket, and immediately landed on the floor with a loud thud. Not being held back by his fall, he scrambled back to his feet. Stumbled over to the table and eyed Courfeyracs phone with wide eyes. Suddenly a squeal escaped his lips and within a second, Jehan was in Courfeyracs lap, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug.
"He said yes! Enjolras said yes! They're getting married!" He was dragging out the end of his sentence, and with a giant grin plastered on his face. Jehan looked like a little boy on Christmas morning.
"Told you so!" Courfeyrac replied, a smile on his face and the mocking tone clear in his voice. Jehan playfully hit his shoulder. Courfeyrac didn't tell his boyfriend that he had felt a little uneasy, too, because even though he knew how much Enjolras loved Grantaire, he hadn't been certain that the blonde man would be ready to get married yet. But now, everything was good. Tightening his arms around Jehan, who was now excitedly babbling on about flowers and love and how some people were just meant to be together, Courfeyrac couldn't believe his luck.
"I love you."