Another fluffy prompt for a friend on Tumblr (If you have a prompt, don't hesitate, you can find me under the URL lilyisawriter. Works in French, too. )

And a big thanks to my beta, Seredhiel05.

Nothing's mine. Not even the title, that's a quote by Toulouse-Lautrec.

Four hours in the library, without even taking bathroom breaks. It isn't really an issue, they work well with each other; working quietly, answering each other's questions, helping with any block… But today is literally driving her crazy. Sighing, mumbling, angrily crumpling sheets of paper, striking out every sentence he had written. She's about to lose it. If she hears another of those sighs, she will kill him.

"That's it! Take your coat! Hop to it!"

He looks at her in surprise. "Why? This paper has to be handed in next week."

"You haven't written a word in two hours!" She hands him his scarf. "Come on! On your feet!"

She practically has to drag the reluctant Politics major in the park nearby.

They stop in a quiet place, relatively well hidden from everyone else at the park.

"Now what?"

"Now, you breath."

He snorts and glares at her. "I've been breathing for the last twenty five years, thank you very much."

"You know perfectly well what I mean, Enjolras. Don't play that game because you know you'll lose. Now, close your eyes, relax and breath."

Another sigh… And a deep breath.

"Good boy. Now feel the autumn. What an amazing season it is… Keep your eyes shut!" she commands as she caught him looking at her.

"Do you feel the wind? Do you smell the rain? Do you hear the trees in the wind?"

She takes his hand. "Now, walk with me. Listen to the dry leaves under you feet. Do you feel them?"

"Mmmh…"

"Now, lie down." she orders as she lay down herself. "Do it. You'll see."

He obliges; how is it that she can always make him do whatever she wants?

They stayed on the ground for a while, neither of them talking. They just listened to the silence; the branches dancing while playing with the leaves in their hands. It takes some time, but she eventually hears his breathing slow down to a normal rhythm.

"Now, tell me, what's bothering you? Don't tell me there is nothing. I know you."

He doesn't answer immediately and, for a second, she's certain he fell asleep.

"Oh, come on! You always tell me everything! What's different about today?" She cries out as she throws a handful of leaves at him.

He immediately retaliates, and since they're both competitive arseholes, they end up fighting like five year olds. He ends up winning since he's taller and stronger than her, but it's okay because she'll just beat him on their next game night. She resigns herself to forfeit. But he stays on her, silent, his eyes focused on hers.

What is he doing? Is he OK? Is he having a stroke?

Then she feels it. She feels his lips on her and her minds stops racing and just lets him win. She plants her hands in his hair, feeling, following her own orders. Tasting him. Breathing him. Coffee and soap.

It stops suddenly and he looks at her with a timid smile. "You're what was bothering me."