A/N: I don't own any of the characters, please, don't sue me. Also, if
you like the story, please review. I'm not sure why I began writing this,
but if enough people want me to, I may continue it. Enjoy!
Buried under a teetering stack of textbooks, the young student made his way through the
crowds of people congregating in front of the university. "'Scuse me, monsieur. Do you happen
to know the way to the classroom of Professor Blondeau?"
"Yes, it's- say, you're new, aren't you?"
"I am, monsieur."
"First time in Paris?" The young man, little more than a lost, frightened boy, nodded his
head, and a wisp of thin blond hair fell in his eyes. "Well, come along. Blondeau will have your
name erased if you don't hurry along. He's been known to do that, y'know. It's happened to
friends of mine before. I am called Bossuet. And you are, little one?"
"Enjolras."
"No first name?"
"Pardieu, but I did not hear yours." He shot back. Enjolras followed the one called
Bossuet through the crowds of people, careful not to upset the monumental tower of books before
him.
"Fair enough. Where're you from, Enjolras?"
"South of here. You?"
"Paris. If you like, I can show you around, introduce you to some of my friends. What
do you say?"
"I say, that sounds fine, monsieur. The more people I know, the better. Merci."
Buried under a teetering stack of textbooks, the young student made his way through the
crowds of people congregating in front of the university. "'Scuse me, monsieur. Do you happen
to know the way to the classroom of Professor Blondeau?"
"Yes, it's- say, you're new, aren't you?"
"I am, monsieur."
"First time in Paris?" The young man, little more than a lost, frightened boy, nodded his
head, and a wisp of thin blond hair fell in his eyes. "Well, come along. Blondeau will have your
name erased if you don't hurry along. He's been known to do that, y'know. It's happened to
friends of mine before. I am called Bossuet. And you are, little one?"
"Enjolras."
"No first name?"
"Pardieu, but I did not hear yours." He shot back. Enjolras followed the one called
Bossuet through the crowds of people, careful not to upset the monumental tower of books before
him.
"Fair enough. Where're you from, Enjolras?"
"South of here. You?"
"Paris. If you like, I can show you around, introduce you to some of my friends. What
do you say?"
"I say, that sounds fine, monsieur. The more people I know, the better. Merci."
