Enjolras had started dreading the moment the clock struck 5:30 when he was about thirteen. It was then when he started expressing his own opinions, thinking for himself, and taking the shape of the man he would inevitably become. These factors, however, completely did not coincide with the beliefs of his family whatsoever. Over time, both his father and mother became increasingly annoyed with his stance on life to the point of near hatred, the fact that his existence wasn't exactly a planned one only helping in the matter. Ever since that point, Enjolras had fought hard to make sure he was safely tucked away in his room, or better yet, somewhere outside of the house completely at 5:30, when his father came home from work.
However, one day, mere weeks past his sixteenth birthday, the blond had been captured by the words printed on the pages of his book when 5:30 rolled around. He was happily sprawled out on the living room couch when the faint click of a lock registered in his mind. Enjolras' eyes widened as they slid upwards to find his father towering over him.
"Get your feet off of my couch!" was the man's greeting. Enjolras repressed his sigh as best as he could as he planted his feet to the floor and marked his page before closing the book. He sat up straight and tall, not a trace of fear on his being. Expecting his dad to leave him be, the high school student was taken by surprise when his father sat in the armchair across from him. Many moments of tense silence passed until finally, Enjolras cleared his throat. A wicked smile spread across the older man's face. "You still in school? I'm surprised a fuck up like you has lasted this long."
"I, unlike some people, can actually hack it." The blond retorted, resenting the fact that the eyes boring into him were the original versions of his. The nearly violent expression that appeared on his father's face made Enjolras' lips turn up into a half smirk, one battle fought and won. It didn't last for too long.
"Still hanging out with the druggies?"
At this Enjolras sighed, mentally hitting himself for having been found out, but his parents nonetheless, at that stage in his life.
"No, dad, I'm better than that." The older of the two let out a bark that could only barely pass for laughter.
"You weren't back then, what makes you think you are now?" The laughter subsided quickly, but his grin still remained. "Your hair's getting long," he commented, "I bet it's because of your little posse. They're trying to turn you gay or something? Hasn't no one told them it's already done? Bunch of idiots."
It may not have looked like it on the outside, but rage quickly flooded through Enjolras' veins. The constant insults to him were something commonplace. They didn't affect him, nor would they ever. But insulting his friends, the ones that were practically his family at this point was a whole different matter.
"At least they're smarter than you." Enjolras said calmly, almost sweetly. His father seemed to ignore him.
"They're all boys, ain't they? Bunch of homos, just like you." Enjolras stood, this time being the one to look down upon. The advantage height was short lived, for his father was still taller than him when standing. Everything was red through Apollo's eyes. The only things keeping him from lashing out physically was his desire to be above the man who stood before him and the coffee table. His fists clenched as his voice rose.
"So what if they are and so what if I am?"
"Then you can get the fuck out of my house! I don't want no homos hanging 'round here!"
"Fine then!" Enjolras stormed through the house. He flung open the door before slamming it shut, enjoying the sound of the splintering wood. He walked away briskly. He would return for his belongings later.
The bitter wind of late fall nipped at all of Enjolras' exposed skin. He had left the house in jeans and a t-shirt, both of which offered little protection against the weather. Still, he didn't stop until his legs ached and his fingers threatened to fall off. Finally, the blond paused to take in his surroundings. He had made it all the way to the outskirts of the industrial part of town. The location seemed vaguely familiar, but his mid refused to make the connection. His body screaming for rest, he sat against a wall of an abandoned warehouse that shielded him from the wind. His eyes slipped closed as the sun disappeared.
"Hey...Enj...are you still alive?" A rough voice woke him the next morning. He flinched backwards, the smell of alcohol radiating from whoever was trying to rouse him. His blue eyes revealed themselves and focused on none other than Grantaire. Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hey, yeah, I'm okay." Enjolras assured the other boy. He stood, ignoring the protests in the form of aches from his muscles. The grin Grantaire was wearing seemed to be infectious, as it caused a smaller version to spread across the blond's lips.
"Why don't you come inside?" Grantaire asked. "It's really fucking cold." Enjolras suddenly knew where he was. His friend was a fellow runaway, and had found shelter in the warehouse he had been sleeping against. The only difference between their situations was that Grantaire's escape had been a choice.
Enjolras followed the dark haired man into his quite humble abode. He was silent as Grantaire poured him a cup of coffee, murmuring a word of thanks as it was handed to him. Two sides were at war within him. On one hand, Enjolras hated being a burden on anyone. It would be too much for him to ask this of a friend. On the other hand, he had no desire to sleep on the sidewalk another night. At last, some five minutes later, the instinct for preservation won over that of courtesy.
"R, would you mind if I crashed here?" Enjolras asked, a certain hint of brokenness in his voice. "It'll only be until I can find a place, then I'll be out of your hair." The blond watched as Grantaire gave him a smirk.
"The great Apollo in need of help? This is something I never thought I'd experience. But I suppose you wouldn't be too bad of a roommate." The brunet said, agreeing to let Enjolras stay. Grantaire never asked his friend the details of the previous night. To this day, Enjolras swears that was why his feet led him there, and to this day, Grantaire is the only one to know the full story as told by Apollo.