' I stared at him. So beautiful, yet so untouchable. So warm, yet so cold. So near, yet so distant. He flew, yet he did not. I loved him. Crazy, I know, but it was true.
I guess I should introduce myself, hi, I'm Grantaire, and the man I'm talking about is Enjolras.
I think he hates me though, he always sends cold glares my way, like if he got the chance, he'd kill me in my sleep, like I'm gum that got stuck on his shoe that won't come off. and just kept attracting dog poop to it. I wish he wouldn't, though. It pains me. I don't mean to say those cynical things, well, I do, but for a good cause. I just don't want him to get hurt.
Funny how he wants to help the poor, and there's usually three sitting right in front of him, yet he doesn't even seem to spare a thought for them.
He's coming now. I need to stop talking. Like, now. But I would give anything, just to spend one night with him.
I've loved him since I saw him in the square giving a speech three years ago. He caught my eye
and ear. I was hooked. I knew I couldn't live without seeing this man.
He calls me "Winecask", "Drunkard", "Thing". Once he was nice and called me "It". He probably would call me by name if he knew that he was the one who caused me to drink my life away.
He'd probably hate me for eternity. He's looking over my shoulder right now. I'd better go.'
"Winecask," Enjolras snapped behind Grantaire, who had gotten up. "Is all that true?" he asked. Grantaire turned around to look at the man he adored. Instead of answering, he pushed Enjolras away from him, something he nevr thought he'd do, and walked away, stumbling.
'What have I done?' was the only thing on Enjolras's mind as he dismissed everyone early and sprinted out to go catch Grantaire.