Grantaire was a worshiper and Enjolras was his religion. Enjolras was the immortal and untouchable god that was placed on a pedestal by Grantaire.
He was unworthy of Enjolras in so many ways. Enjolras was perfection personified, while Grantaire exemplified the complete opposite. Nothing about him was perfect. He drank, he was harsh, and he was ungrateful for the life he was given. Nothing hurt him more so than being in the presence of Enjolras, the one he was in love with; the one who was everything that he himself wasn't.
And yet, every week, Grantaire would grace the Café Musain with his unworthy presence just to steal a glance at the leader in red. When glancing was not enough, he would stand up, and under the influence of alcohol, proclaim that Enjolras' work for the Cause was bound for distaster. This was not done in jest, but to provoke Enjolras into arguing with him. It was not healthy, but Grantaire lived for the moments when his fiery Apollo would berate and scorn him with a zealous passion in his eyes; the passion that he wished was bestowed upon him. Every hurtful word that was sent in his direction made him want to stand up and walk away, but he kept coming back week after week to hear the beautiful voice and see the magnificent passion of Enjolras that was directed strait towards him and him alone.
After every argument, Grantaire would go back to his flat and sit on the terrace starring at the stars, reliving each moment from the past few hours in his memories. Sometimes, at the darkest of the night, in the black abyss of twilight with only a few cold and miniscule stars hanging in the sky, Grantaire would pretend that the stars were imparting their celestial wisdom upon him. They told him that he would never be worthy of Enjolras', or anyone else's, love.
With the light starting to appear back in the lonely sky at dawn, Grantaire would finally sprawl himself upon his narrow bed and fall instantly into the embrace of sleep, the only thing that loved him. On these nights, sleep would send tendrils of dreams into his mind of the only star that was not cold and harsh: the dazzling sun that was Enjolras, where he would be content and happy, until he woke up once again.