Based on something I saw on Tumblr.
Fictional siblings ruin my life.
The fifteen-year-old sat on her brother's lap, like she would when she was younger and couldn't sleep. When she was scared or sad, and the older sibling would comfort her. Their parents neglected them, not giving a damn for either of them.
"One last bedtime story before I say goodnight," Grantaire mutters, trying to attempt a joke, which would far too soon become reality.
The sister gave her brother a look. "Don't say that!" she blinked back her tears. The thought of him being gone, she could not handle.
Grantaire swallowed. Before he could say anything else, Marius came running in, clasping a hand on his shoulder, and both siblings look up. What did he want?
"Get your ass up it's begun!" he cried, before running off. Suddenly the sister felt nervous.
She turned to face her brother. "When this is all over come back to me and finish the one about Apollo and the moon who only shone under his light. Promise?"
Grantaire nodded, kissing his sister on her forehead.
His story was finished.
As herself, Enjolras' mother, and other women scrubbed the blood away, she realized something.
The story about Apollo and the moon was finished on the barricade.