Grantaire remembers well the first time he met Enjolras. He had been wandering around the dusklit streets, drunk. He stumbled into a rowdy crowd and got lost in it. The people pushed and shoved and yelled, angry about something. They jostled Grantaire around, disorienting him. That chaos continued until a golden voice rung out above the noise. The crowd instantly fell still and quiet.
Grantaire turned toward the sound of that lovely voice and saw him. Standing on a table in the street was a beautiful being, too gorgeous to even be called a man. He had a halo of blonde hair that whipped around his face in the wind. His eyes were a startling blue, the shade of the purest noon sky. His lips were pink and mesmerizing, moving quickly to form eloquent words. His cheeks were red with passion that lit his whole face up. He spoke so brightly, and his young face was filled with so much hope that Grantaire almost began to believe his optimism. This man—no, this god—captured Grantaire's heart in an instant. He shone like Apollo, and his light was infectious. Enamored, Grantaire listened on.
Suddenly, the crowd stirred in panic. The police had arrived to arrest the rebel god that spoke of hope in the streets. The crowd began to scatter, and the table toppled over, the blonde with it. Grantaire pushed through the mob, trying to find his new god, the Apollo that had so quickly captured his heart. He was in the center of the chaos, sitting shocked on the ground.
Grantaire pulled him up and dragged him into an alley between two buildings. His Apollo began to yell at him.
"What on Earth are you-" Grantaire clapped a hand over his mouth and gently pressed him against the wall when he began to fight.
"Please stop. I am trying to help you," He whispered. The blonde fought harder, not trusting the alcohol on Grantaire's breath. He bit Grantaire's hand hard enough to draw blood, and the brunette drew back.
The blonde stayed against the wall, Grantaire's blood dripping down his lip. He glanced out to the streets, where the police were searching the crowd for him. He stepped out the alley and was immediately swept away by a sea of panicked citizens. Grantaire followed him. He was glad he did. There were officers everywhere, all looking for his Apollo. Grantaire caught up to the blonde and grabbed his arm.
"Now will you let me help you?" The blonde looked at him and nodded, overwhelmed and frightened. Grantaire tucked him underneath his arm and led him back to the alley. He led him deeper in this time, where almost no light reached in between the building's shadows.
"You there, what are you doing?" An officer was walking down the alley toward them. Grantaire pressed himself against the blonde and looked back at the man, hoping he couldn't see the blonde.
"We got caught in the middle of those filthy heathens, sir, and my wife was frightened," He smoothed the blonde's long hair and smiled. "We were going to wait here until the crowd scattered, and then continue on our afternoon stroll,"
"Good day, sir. Madam," He tipped his hat at the blonde and turned away, continuing his search.
Grantaire and the blonde stayed silent and still, staring at each other. Grantaire took the opportunity to memorize his Apollo's face. His deep eyes, high cheekbones, full lips. His jaw was rounded, not sharp like Grantaire's. Looking closer, he realized the blonde was a few years younger than him, and barely older than a boy. It showed, too. Though he talked big, there was fear deep in his hope-filled eyes.
"What is your name?" The blonde broke the silence.
"Grantaire,"
"Enjolras," He held out his hand and Grantaire shook it.
"The way you talked… It gave me hope. I have never been an optimist, so that I a very rare thing. Enjolras," Grantaire looked down into his eyes. "If anyone can bring about this change, it is you. People are drawn toward your unwavering hope. They will stand with you, and I will stand with you," Grantaire said the words without thinking, but he meant them. He had never believed in anything, but he believed in Enjolras. "Be strong, and others will follow suit,"
Enjolras stood a bit straighter, the fear gone.
"I will,"
I wanted to write about Enjy and Taire's first meeting, and this happened. The speech in this was one of Enjolras's first, and definitely the first one to attract the police's attention. I imagine that, despite all his optimism, Enjolras was secretly terrified, but he never let it show.
I also think there's more to Enjolras's disdain for Grantaire than just his drinking. Grantaire's little pep talk about hope made Enjolras believe Grantaire was for his cause, but the drunk's cynicism showed that he really didn't. Enjolras would've been pretty upset about that. Especially after realizing that the pep talk was just empty words.
Of course, he would never let his feelings of hurt and betrayal show.