The night was cold, a howling wind whistling in the dark air. Snow pounded down around a small house, that seemed incapable of holding through the storm. Inside the wooden cabin were two young boys, seated on a couch together, huddled under blankets. The fireplace was right in front of them, and a mattress on the floor was where one of them slept, the other on the couch. One had long, lovely blonde hair, pale skin and determined blue eyes, white shirt and red cardigan. Someone might describe him as like an angel, glowing, determined, undaunted by his surroundings. His personality could be matched up with one as well. The other had messy, short black hair, olive skin, shaded, dark green eyes. He seemed like the type of guy who had just drunk too much beer and thrown up everywhere. Let's face it – one was beautiful, the other was ugly. Enjolras, the angel. Grantaire, the joke. That's what they were known as.
"Enjolras, I'm still cold."
"Be quiet Grantaire, you're the one who got us into this mess in the first place. I just hope the others found safety from the storm as well. Marius is still unconscious, is he not?" The blonde pointed to the back where there was a small room with a few candles lighting up the room. "We should take him to your mattress. He needs fire more than we." At this, Grantaire nodded and rose.
The two headed toward the indicated area of where the one called Marius was out cold, laying on a wooden table. It was cold in that room, colder than in the other. The burly Grantaire picked up Marius, bridal style and carried him to the room where the fire was raging strong and warm. He laid him on the mattress closest to the fire, and walked back to join and talk with Enjolras.
Enjolras was sitting on the table, hand on his chin, lost in thought. Grantaire couldn't help but watch him in awe. Although the room was only dimly lit, the angelic man seemed to light up the whole room with just his presence. Grantaire stood at the doorway, absorbed. He shook his head with a small frown. "I can't believe we forgot to pack beer."
"We didn't forget. You packed it, and I unpacked it. How many times must I tell you, you can't keep drinking all the time!" Enjolras scolded him, breaking his train of thought. Grantaire came closer and sat beside him on the table, looking down and fiddling with his thumbs.
"It's hard to stop." Was all the man said, not looking at Enjolras.
Enjolras had already moved on from the topic, and was analyzing their situation out loud.
"So, if we send up a flare, that will likely give the others our location, but we can't do that because of the blizzard. The flame would be put out as soon as it reached the treetops, so…" Grantaire had already zoned out and was thinking up a plan in his mind. Why did Enjolras have to be so oblivious?
