Hi all, this is the first time I have ever shown my writing to anyone. Reviews are welcome, but just having somebody take the time to read it is amazing. Thanks!
Grantaire burst through the door of the bar and headed for the table he usually shared with his friends. He careened around waitresses and patrons before slamming into the table and snatching Combeferre's drink out of his hand, downing it in one. The group looked at him in surprise. It wasn't unknown for Grantaire to like a drink or eleven but the problem hadn't yet reached the point where he was stealing alcohol from his friends.
"What the hell, Grantaire?" Combeferre shoved his friend away and grabbed for his glass. Grantaire sat heavily in the vacant chair beside Bahorel and leaned his head on the table, squeezing his eyes shut and muttering to himself. Cosette slipped off Marius' lap and came around the table to rub Grantaire's back in concern.
"What's wrong, Sweetie?" She asked in a soothing voice. Grantaire shook his head and shrugged, continuing to mutter incoherently. The others looked at each other in concerned amusement.
"Girl trouble?" Courfeyrac ruffled Grantaire's dark curls.
"Problems at work?" Lesgle nudged him with his elbow.
"Money worries?" Bahorel asked, hoping he wouldn't have to give him a loan.
"Is it that outfit?" This from Prouvaire, who was dressed head to toe in designer labels, sipping a champagne cocktail with a paper umbrella in it. "Because if not, we need to talk." Grantaire lifted his head to scowl at him.
"I just saw something...odd. No, completely unbelievable. I must have been daydreaming. Yes, I expect my alcohol levels are too low." He reached across the table and picked up Marius' drink, bringing it to his lips. He gulped it down and smiled round at the group, who were still looking at him expectantly. His smile waned and his shoulders slumped. "Oh, it's no good! I didn't imagine it. You're never going to believe what I saw! I don't even really believe it, and I was there. He was in a doorway. A doorway! Where anyone can see him. And he doesn't even really like anyone talking about stuff like that, let alone actually doing it!"
"For God's sake, Grantaire!" Marius, usually calmed and collected, made everyone jump as he exploded with pent-up curiosity. "What the hell are you on about?"
"Enjolras!" Grantaire's eyes sparkled with pleasure, as he realised how exciting this piece of news really was. "In a doorway!"
"What was Enjolras doing in the doorway?" Provaire asked, in the way adults do when speaking to a small child.
"Was he peeing?" Courfeyrac asked, incredulously. Everyone looked to Grantaire for an answer. He laughed and shook his head, making his curls bounce.
"That might actually be easier to believe." He paused dramatically. "He was there with a girl." Everyone continued looking blankly at him. "KISSING A GIRL!" Grantaire said, eyebrows raised. There was a moment of silence before the group erupted into gales of hearty laughter.
"Good one Grantaire."
"You really had us going."
"I thought you were being serious, you idiot. Have a drink, you're imagining things."
Grantaire frowned. Had he imagined it? Perhaps it had been someone who looked like Enjolras. No, nobody else had those dirty-blonde curls. He'd spot his best mate's hair a mile off, even with some girl's fingers tangled in it.
"It was him, I tell you. I'm not imagining it. Why would I make that up?"
Cosette went to sit on Marius' knee again. "Who was she then?" She asked, still skeptical.
"I don't know, I only saw her hands. It felt like I was spying on them. I wasn't, I mean they were on the street in broad daylight, but I felt a bit...voyeuristic. It's Enjolras, for goodness sake!"
"How come you only saw her hands?" Prouvaire asked, confused.
"He had his back to me. They were in his hair. Gripping pretty tightly, actually." Grantaire said, with a shudder. He didn't really want to think about what Enjolras was doing to make this mystery girl hold on to him so forcefully. The group knew how uncomfortable Enjolras was around women. The fact that he was comfortable enough to kiss one in public must mean that she was special to him.
"How wonderful!" Cosette exclaimed, clapping her hands and making Marius groan as she bounced up and down excitedly. "He might be in love! I've always thought what a waste it would be if he lived a celibate life." She sighed wistfully, gazing into the distance. "Those eyes. That hair...That body..." She trailed off into her own little world. All the boys stared at her as if she'd grown an extra head. Marius cleared his throat, looking annoyed. Cosette snapped out of her reverie and giggled self-conciously. "I didn't mean...Not that I've ever...He isn't my type." She finished quickly and gave Marius a kiss on the cheek. He wasn't mollified however, and stared at the floor, seething. Cosette looked embarrassed and took quick sips of her wine to distract herself. Courfeyrac caught Joly's eye and they both tried to hold in their laughter. It was no good. Joly snorted so hard into his glass that beer came out of his nose. Everyone around the table joined in the laughter, except Cosette, who turned scarlet, and Marius, who was still fuming.
"Cosette loves Enjolras. Cosette loves Enjolras." Prouvaire sang, playfully nudging Cosette's shoulder.
"Shut up! I do not! I love my Marius." Cosette whined, encircling her boyfriend's head in her arms. Marius put his arms around her and pulled her close, seemingly in better spirits now that his face was pushed into her cleavage.
"Cosette loves Enjolras. Cosette loves Enjolras." The rest of the boys took up the chant and Cosette glared at them, whined at them and hit them lightly on the shoulders, growing more and more frustrated. Eventually she jumped off Marius' lap, planted her hands squarely on the sticky table and shouted loudly; "For God's sake! I am not in love with Enjolras!" The table quietened, all eyes drawn to a point above Cosette's left shoulder.
"Well, that's good to know," a familiar voice said from behind her. Cosette turned quickly, blushing as her eyes met Enjolras' intense blue ones. He glanced around the table at the amused faces of his friends and mumbled something about getting a drink, before striding off to the bar. His friends watched him walk away before huddling over the table to discuss the girl again.
"His lips are very red."
"He seems short of breath."
"His hair is rather unkempt."
"Ask him, Grantaire. You're the one that saw him."
"You ask him Marius, if you're so curious."
"He won't tell us anyway, you know how private he is."
By the time Enjolras sat down, his friends were nudging and kicking each other under the table, each daring another to ask about the mystery girl.
"So, what have you been doing today?" Lesgles asked, as casually as he could. Enjolras glanced at him in surprise. His friends didn't usually ask about his day.
"I went to the library." He said simply.
"Did you meet anyone there?" Joly asked. "Anyone with hands?" Enjolras frowned. He didn't understand why everyone was trying not to laugh. He was obviously missing the joke again.
"I met the new librarian." He said, uncertainly, as Cosette leaned forward, nodding her head encouragingly. "He was nice."
Everyone exploded with laughter, whooping and giggling like children. Courfeyrac laughed so hard he fell off his chair.
"How big were those hands, Grantaire?" Prouvaire asked, wiping his eyes. Grantaire shook his head.
"Definitely a woman." He gasped, as he tried to control his laughter.
"Am I missing something?" Enjolras' expression was a mixture of confusion, anger and boredom. He was used to being the butt of the unexplainable, often unfunny joke.
"Grantaire, tell him what you saw today." Marius said, trying to put an end to the hysteria. He was desperate to know the identity of Enjolras' mystery woman.
Grantaire cleared his throat dramatically and leaned forward. Enjolras leaned across the table also, curious despite himself. "I saw a man," Grantaire began in a slow, deep voice. "In a, shall we say, out of character situation. A man known to us all as serious, stoic, virtually emotionless, unless you count anger of course. Unaware of the opposite sex. Practically made of marble."
Enjolras looked even more confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Have you been reading romantic poetry again?"
"Grantaire saw you snogging the face off a girl this afternoon and we want to know who she is!" Prouvaire announced, banging his fist on the table for effect. All eyes were on Enjolras, whose expression changed from one of bewilderment to embarrassed understanding. He cleared his throat and looked away as a scarlet blush lit his face.
"Well?" Cosette practically screeched in his ear. "Who is she?"
"Nobody important." He shrugged, not meeting any of his friend's eyes. As the silence continued and he realised they wouldn't let him go without an answer he scowled and waved a hand dismissively. "It was just Eponine."