A/N: This is just a short little thing I wrote after reading the Amis
deaths for the 10th time on the plane to Florida. Morbid, Angsty. Call it
whatever you may. My sister called it a waste of time. My first serious LM
fic. (It was brought to my attention that I was using the feminine version
of Courfeyrac's name so this is just modified to be without the extra e's)
Disclaimer: I do not own Les Mis, the barricades or Courfeyrac. Wait no...I do own Courfeyrac. :: Devilish grin::
Courfeyrac was killed. The single thought shot through her a million times at once. No matter what she tried to think about she was driven back to that one thing: René. /Her/ beloved René...was dead.
She could bear the pain in the empty flat no longer. For a day now she had sat there on his bed waited for him to return from the barricades; he had not. Not even Marius, the dreamer boy who resided with Courfeyrac had returned.
Now she feared he was dead. She /knew/ he was dead. She had heard news of the barricade being taken full-force by unyielding soldiers from people passing by and talking loudly in the hallway. She shuddered at the thought of her René being mercilessly slaughtered at the hands of some black-hearted pig when he was only fighting for what he believed in. What /they/ believed in.
She had begged to go to the barricades with him. He would not permit it. He didn't want her to die a needless death. The words he used as he sent her away still rang in her head, "Angeline, I love you, but I cannot let you come with me. Especially carrying my child. Go, live a long happy life and carry on our legacy." At that she had managed a weak smile. No, it was a grimace. Now she had regretted she had let him go so easily. She should have refused to go away without him; she had not.
Slowly, she fingered the knife she had bought despairingly from a street beggar after she had left him. "René my life /is wasted/ without you." A single tear rolled down her pallid cheek as she plunged the dull knife into her heart.
Disclaimer: I do not own Les Mis, the barricades or Courfeyrac. Wait no...I do own Courfeyrac. :: Devilish grin::
Courfeyrac was killed. The single thought shot through her a million times at once. No matter what she tried to think about she was driven back to that one thing: René. /Her/ beloved René...was dead.
She could bear the pain in the empty flat no longer. For a day now she had sat there on his bed waited for him to return from the barricades; he had not. Not even Marius, the dreamer boy who resided with Courfeyrac had returned.
Now she feared he was dead. She /knew/ he was dead. She had heard news of the barricade being taken full-force by unyielding soldiers from people passing by and talking loudly in the hallway. She shuddered at the thought of her René being mercilessly slaughtered at the hands of some black-hearted pig when he was only fighting for what he believed in. What /they/ believed in.
She had begged to go to the barricades with him. He would not permit it. He didn't want her to die a needless death. The words he used as he sent her away still rang in her head, "Angeline, I love you, but I cannot let you come with me. Especially carrying my child. Go, live a long happy life and carry on our legacy." At that she had managed a weak smile. No, it was a grimace. Now she had regretted she had let him go so easily. She should have refused to go away without him; she had not.
Slowly, she fingered the knife she had bought despairingly from a street beggar after she had left him. "René my life /is wasted/ without you." A single tear rolled down her pallid cheek as she plunged the dull knife into her heart.