In which Grantaire gets drunk and stays out late, and Éponine comes to find him
Grantaire felt nothing. As he set the empty bottle on the table next to its brethren, he paused as another wave of drunken warmth washed over him, numbing him to the cruelness of the world. The sensation spread over his body like a blanket. His face contorted into the mirthful grin that only the intoxicated can achieve. He loved and hated himself.
As he reached for the next bottle of wine, the doors of the Café Musain opened, and a dark-haired girl entered. Spotting her drunken friend indulging in his favorite pastime at a table in the center of the room, she grimaced and walked over to his table. As she sat down next to him, she reached out her hand and gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze.
"Ah, Ponine," Grantaire slurred. "How are you on this fine evening?"
"Nothing new, R." Éponine returned, staring at the ground. "Marius is over at Cosette's house, and my father is in one of his famous moods. I'm not looking forward to going home."
Grantaire blinked at his friend for a moment, then said, "He didn't hit you again, did he? If he did, I'm going to teach him a lesson."
Éponine laughed darkly. "No, nothing happened tonight. And I appreciate the sentiment R, but you're in no condition to take on my father one on one, much less to confront him and Patron-Minette." Eyeing the empty bottles on the table, she added, "How long have you been in here, 'Taire? I see six empty wine bottles here."
The drunk popped the cork and chuckled. "Ponine, I haven't left since the meeting ended. That was what, three hours ago? I've lost track of time, and my phone's dead."
"Try five hours, R. It's three in the morning."
"Oh. Guess I've been here a while. As you can see, I've been in the company of a host of fascinating people," Grantaire muttered, motioning around the otherwise empty café. "Really, it's been quite riveting. I wish you could've been here to join me."
"I was here, Grantaire. You and Courfeyrac invited me to stay the night, remember? I left with him when the meeting adjourned. You said you'd join us after you had a word with Enjolras. I couldn't sleep, and you didn't come home, so I came looking for you," the girl explained demurely. "What happened?"
"What happened? Shit happened, that's what," Grantaire scoffed. "Enjolras was all business, as usual. He has no time for anything other than his beloved Patria." He grabbed the bottle and took an enormous swig, then wiped his mouth in disgust.
Éponine looked at her hands as she thought of what to say next. She wasn't one for words of comfort, but she and Grantaire had an interesting relationship, as they both had feelings for individuals who didn't reciprocate. Finally, she looked up and asked, "What did he say, R?"
Another snort issued from Grantaire. "What did he say? What does he usually say, Ep? 'Be serious for once, Grantaire!' 'Your drunken commentary is unnecessary, Grantaire!' Or my personal favorite, 'If you'd put the bottle down for once in your life, maybe you'd be useful, Grantaire!' Same old, same old. And the kicker? He's completely blind to something right in front of his face!"
Éponine paused for a moment before offering, "I'm sorry, R. But have you considered he's right? You have been drinking quite a bit lately."
"I've been drunk almost non-stop for the past two years," Grantaire scoffed. "You know that as well as I do, Ponine. You of all people should know why I do this!"
The girl smiled sadly, "I know R, I know. But seriously, it isn't healthy."
"Ponine, does it look like I give a rat's ass about my health? I prefer death over this hell I'm living!" Grantaire declared, shooting out of his chair. As he stood, the bottle slipped from his hand and dropped to the ground, shattering. Grantaire glanced at the red liquid as it spread across the café floor. "And as usual, I've made a fine mess of things," he deadpanned.
Éponine rose from her chair and walked to the supply closet in the corner of the room. She sighed as she grabbed a mop. "I think you're probably done for the night, R. Let's clean this mess up and then get you home."
Grantaire nodded his head resignedly and took the mop from the girl, who then returned to the closet to retrieve a broom and dustpan. She walked back over to her friend, who had begun half-heartedly wiping the mop in the spilled liquid. Éponine rolled her eyes and said, "R, why don't you just let me clean this up. Go sit over at that table."
The inebriated man signaled his agreement and handed the mop to Éponine. After ten minutes, the spill had been mopped up, and the broken glass had been disposed of. The girl looked over at her friend, who had dozed off in his chair. She shook him awake, gently murmuring, "Wake up, R. Let's get you home."
Grantaire awoke with a start, his eyes blinking rapidly. After a few seconds, he stood up shakily and said, "Lead the way, mam'selle. But tell me, why do you put up with me?"
Éponine smirked as she offered her arm to Grantaire, who took it and leaned on the girl to steady himself. As the two friends made their way out the door into the Parisian night, she replied, "Simply because I know you'd do the same for me, 'Taire."
Author's Note: I'm trying something a little new here. I'm intending for this to be a series of unrelated one-shots. I just wrote this one on a whim, and hopefully I've caught your interest. These one-shots are inspired by the textsfromep blog on Tumblr.
Also, I do not own Les Misérables
