Happy (belated) Barricade Day, fellow Mizzies!
Our babies live forever in our hearts (n_n) So in celebration of this sad (but momentous) day, here's a LM fic about the baby of the group! This was a prompt I did when I was younger from .uk. Vive La Revolution!
As he placed the last box on the floor, he grinned proudly as he surveyed his surroundings. It was bare, sure, but once he'd start unpacking, then it wouldn't be for long.
He was thankful he'd accepted Courf's offer before the school year started, he knew he wouldn't get a better deal than this.
The fading, sky blue walls were clean and intact, except for that one spot Bossuet had spilled paint on (which no one had bothered to clean). The couch and coffee table were left behind, and he knew that if you lifted the table, you'd see the dent Bahorel made when he and Courf had played football indoors. The appliances were left behind as well, seeing how Jehan had his own set. Otherwise, everything was bare and new. A new start.
The apartment was big for just one person—of course, that's comparing it to when he used to still stay with his sisters. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he made his way to the kitchen and pulled out the lunch Éponine had packed for him before he'd left.
He felt a pang as he stared at the cheesy chicken sandwich, feeling much like he was ten again and not twenty-three and taking a masterate. The sandwich was cut to a circle, with two drops of soy sauce near the sides and a smoky, burnt curve of cheese under the dots, making a smiley face.
He knew that his childhood hadn't been the best, but his sisters had done everything in their power to make sure he had a happy one. And Éponine's silly cheesy chicken sandwich always reminded him of that.
A reminiscent smile tilted his lips as he took a bite, staring at the scattered boxes across the room. Everything really was bare and new. A new start.