"Enjolras, Enjolras, I'm right here. Hey, Enj. I'm right here." Combeferre said quietly, waiting for the teenage blonde in front of him to snap out of whatever nightmare he was in the grips of. The two boys knocked heads as Enjolras sat bolt upright in bed.
"'Ferre…" he sighed, before he melts into the embrace the medical student already had him in. Combeferre held him, storking his blonde curls and rubbing his back comfortingly. Enjolras had been living with the medical studentfor about a month, after Combeferre had found the injured, sick boy wandering the streets of Paris after he had run from his father's house. Combeferre only knew what he could guess ar as to what had happened there.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Combeferre asked the shaking boy in his arms. Enjolras looked up with pain-filled, tear-filled eyes.
"Julien, please, just tell me something." Combeferre was frustrated-not that he showed it. Enjolras nodded.
"He-he found us, here. He tried t-to take me, b-but you stopped him, b-but he took you and-" a sob choked off his words, and he buried his head in Combeferre's shirt. Combeferre absently stroked the blonde curls, considering this new revelation. Clearly, Enjolras was terrified of his father, for a reason the older boy could probably bet on-and win.
"Julien…Enj, look at me." The blonde curls remained stubbornly buried in Combeferre's shirt. "Enjolras, please, it's nearly 3 am. You have work and I have class." Enjolras lifted his head, and Combeferre's mind went blank, so he said "I don't know what he did, and I'm not sure I want to, but I will never leave you. I will not let anyone or anything separate us, ever." Enjolras nodded and the boys laid back down. Combeferre hears the younger boy's breathing even out, but he laid there, thinking. He may have only known the younger boy for a month, but he felt fiercely protective of him. He knew Enjolras' weaknesses, like remembering to east and sleep-Combeferre knows that if he didn't remind Enjolras, he wouldn't-and his past, tonight being an example. On the other hand, Enjolras was fiercely loyal to his friends, and he was an excellent writer; Combeferre had seen what he had written for pleasure. The medical student looked down at the young boy beside him, only to see the bright blue eyes staring back up at him.
"Go to sleep, stop thinking." The blonde murmured, and Combeferre chuckles. "Good night, Julien." he said, and then threw a hand over the younger boy's waist. Sooner than he expected, he drifted to sleep