Courfeyrac had not slept a wink all night.

Jehan could tell by the dazed way Courfeyrac stared at the table, seemingly fascinated by the grains of wood.

"Courf?" he nudged the boy, handing him a mug of coffee that Musichetta had given him with a smile ("Give it to the poor guy will you, it's on the house").

Courfeyrac looked at the cup with confusion. Jehan took a sip out of his own to remind him what to do with the object in front of him. Courfeyrac began to drink from his own with a sigh and Prouvaire smiled with relief. It would be safe to leave him while he rushed to his Romantic Literature class.

The class was wonderful. His professor was a wonderful middle-aged man with a perchance for scarves and references to modern-day works. Jehan stayed behind to discuss his class project and walked out with a bounce in his step. It had been insightful, hearing feedback. As he walked, he lost himself in his musings. He was going to focus on the poems of Victor Marie Hugo, opening the presentation with the beautiful pacing of Alexandrin couplets. He began to recite to himself under his breath as he crossed the field between the university buildings.

"Le poète s'en va dans les champs; il admire-"

"Jehan!"

He almost tripped over himself in surprise.

"Who-"

Courfeyrac stood panting, a container in his hand. Jean shifted his books in his arms, waiting for his friend to catch his breath. Straightening, he thrust the container into the poet's hand. Jean looked down in confusion. It was filled with…. Pasta?

"Courf- what?"

"Let's ca-noodle." Jean nearly dropped it in shock.

"What?!"

"You are the cheese to my macaroni."

Jehan raised an eyebrow. Courfeyrac was clearly taking his lack of sleep worse than he expected.

"Go to class Courf. I'll see you back at the dorms."

He walked away, ignoring the unnatural way that Courfeyrac pouted, looking like a puppy. Filing the incident under "Strange Things Courf Sometimes Does", he found Grantaire and Enjolras in the library and proceeded to work out the details of his presentation.

Lui font de grands saluts et courbent jusqu'à terre

Leurs têtes de feuillée et leurs barbes de lierre,

Contemplent de son front la sereine lueur,

Et murmurent tout bas : C'est lui ! c'est le rêveur !

The loud buzz of his phone startled him, causing Enjolras to glare up from the Politics textbook he had been busy studying (and making corrections in, judging by the frequency that he took his red pen to the pages). Grantaire shifted from his sleeping position.

Looking down at his phone, he stifled a laugh. The odd choked sound caused Grantaire to look up as well.

"Are you alright Jehan?"

He mutely passed his phone to Grantaire.

"What does it say?" Even Enjolras was curious, peering over the abused book.

Grantaire cleared his throat with a grin.

"14:37 [Courf]: u r the Apple of my eye. We make a perfect pear. i luv u liek toast yearns for butter. lettuce go, fair gent ;D"

Enjolras looked horrified.

"What?" he sputtered as Jean took back his phone, while Grantaire laughed hysterically, rolling under the table.

14:40 [Jehan]: Aren't you in stats class? pay attention :(.

When Enjolras finally retrieved Grantaire off the floor, he repeated his question.

"He didn't sleep, I think it's affecting him." Prouvaire replied. His phone went off again. Enjolras and Grantaire came around the table to read over his shoulders as the texts came in.

14:43 [Courf]: but olive u :'(! and that is more important than macadamia so i donut carrot-all.

14:44 [Courf]: it's a pity we cantaloupe (i had to ask eponine how to spell that jesus christ fuck. im sitting be-cider).

14:45 [Courf]: i want u 2 move in with me but im afraid my place does not have mushroom. we should taco about this.

"Dear god." Enjolras looked torn between amusement and horror. Grantaire couldn't stop his chuckles.

"Prouvaire, it's like Valentines Day came early this year." he remarked, opening up his sketchbook.

"What are you doing?" Enjolras peeked at the page.

"Designing cards to go with these quotes."

"Designing- no, that's awful!"

"Don't worry Enj, I'll send you one."

"That's not what I meant!"

Javert, the campus security head (who suspected a few of the Amis for reported count of noise complains, vandalism and other offences but did not have the proof the charge them) glared at them across the library as Grantaire waved at him cheekily.

Jehan typed out a reply.

14:45 [Jehan]: Stop

14:48 [Courf]: won't u recite sum sweeeet poetry, honeydew ;D?

14:51 [Jehan]: Roses are red/ Violets are blue/ OH MY GOD COURFEYRAC/ I'm going to stab you -an original composition by Jean Prouvaire, dedicated to a friend who really should be paying attention in class.

14:53 [Courf]: ur cruel words make me feel MELONcholy :(.

Combeferre arrived with Joly, both out of their immunology course they took together. Seeing Enjolras' pinched expression and the other two being red (Prouvaire's red with embarrassment, Grantaire's from laughter).

"What's wrong? Who did it?"

Joly peered around Combeferre.

"Are you two sick? We were going to ask if wanted to go to the café, but if you are sick, you should go home and sleep."

Prouvaire tried not to hit his head against the table.

"Courf is trying to seduce me via groceries."

Combeferre's brows snapped together.

"Let me see."

Jean wordlessly handed over his phone for Joly and Combeferre to read. Joly raised his eyebrows and began giggling.

"Oh, Musichetta and Bossuet are going to love this. I'm off to the café." He waved as he walked off, laughing to himself.

Combeferre handed the device back to Jean.

"I'll take care of this." He reassured. Pulling out his own phone, he striked a few keys and put it away again.

Prouvaire's phone did not go off again.


Later, back at their dorms, Prouvaire stole Courfeyrac's phone once they had forced him to take a nap before dinner. He was curious to see what Combeferre had said to stop Courfeyrac's awful pun. Flipping through the message history, he found the conversation log and began to read.

14:55 [Ferre]: Courfeyrac. Pay attention in class and leave poor Jehan alone. I will come and put you in a penitentiary.

14:56 [Courf]: : don't put me in custardy. i only mint well. i am appled u are so mean :(. don't beet me.

14:57 [Ferre]: I know that Ep is sitting by you. She'll take away your phone if you don't stop.

14:58 [Courf]: TIN-FOILED AGAID;SFASDFNFKLSDIG

Jehan couldn't stop laughing. He could only assume that the last text was when Eponine had reached over to wrestle the phone away. Staring at the phone log and his homework spread across the couch, he reached for a pen and scribbled a few words down.

Sneaking back into Courfeyrac's room, he placed the phone on the nightstand and placed a stick-it note overtop, for Courfeyrac to find.

Dear Courfeyrac.

You are a nin-com-soup.
Olive you too.