a/n: I am currently writing a longer oneshot, but I have a rather bad case of writer's block. My lovely muse had this idea and I just couldn't wait to write it. Hopefully it'll help me get over my writer's block so I can finish the other story. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Oops. I forgot this earlier. Heaven forbid I be sued by a dead guy. On second thought, lawyers are scary (except Marius, because he's cuddly) so... I don't own Les Mis.
You were a nice young boy; you really were. Perhaps you acted a bit young for your age, but that was okay, because I was much older than my nineteen years. In a way we balanced each other. I know that you had many mistresses, but you never had more than one at once. You were faithful to me for the three months I knew you. I loved you and you loved me. I knew it wouldn't last forever. Somebody new would come along and take my place, but you would still be kind. Perhaps we would meet for coffee occasionally, or share a smile when we saw each other on the street. I would enjoy it while it lasted, even if, deep down, I knew that sons of the aristocracy didn't marry grisettes.
Although you never spoke of your political opinions, I knew you must have been a republican. You loved people too much to be anything else. You attracted people to you like a magnet. So many different types of people orbited around you: students, grisettes, bourgeois, workers, and even gamins would flock to you. You fancied yourself a dandy, and always kept yourself looking your best, but behind the carefully curled hair and freshly polished boots lay a selfless man. Giving was a natural reflex to you. It came without thinking. You would hand a franc to a gamin on the street and never once think to stop and check the contents of your purse to ensure that you would have enough for your own bread.
When the riots broke out, I knew you would be in the midst of them. There was no way that you would be able to resist the call. Although I feared for you, I didn't try to stop you. I knew it was where you needed to be, and you knew it too. I knelt by my bedside and prayed that night. Although my tears muddled the words, I know the blessed virgin must have heard, for they say the grape took you fast, and you didn't suffer at all.
I knew that it wouldn't last forever and I always assumed that you would be the one to move on. I was correct, but not to a better lady, but to a better world entirely. I only hope now, that they put your name correctly upon the gravestone, leaving off the 'de' so that the world may remember you properly as the fine young man you were and as the fine young man I remember you to be. As Courfeyrac.
a/n: Nothing really special, but I figure it's not bad for a half an hours work.
Jehan: If you liked it even a little bit, leave us a review. We'd really appreciate it!
Yes, reviews would be lovely. Constructive criticism would be wonderful as well. Hopefully we can get over this writer's block and get that other story up soon!