Hey guys! I'm so sorry I haven't updated, I went away and thought I would have internet access but the hotel was shit but here's chapter four with some MAJOR PLOT TWIST/s.
Enjolras and I had decided on a date when we would take our relationship to the next level. Our one year anniversary was in the middle of our spring break, luckily enough. He would be accompanying my mère, her boyfriend and me on a trip to Spain. I would get to show him my room too, since he would be spending one night at my home.
Of course, even though I was more than comfortable with him, I was still nervous about my scars. But as I often saw him shirtless, saw that tattoo that mirrored the scar, I began to grow more and more comfortable wit myself. He had gotten that tattoo because of me, for me. Because of him, my greatest downfall would be my greatest uprising.
"Mon dieu, I'm nervous," Enjolras said, glancing at me. I smiled at him and he put his arm around my waist. "Never thought I'd be meeting the parents."
"Parent and her boyfriend," I corrected halfheartedly. I kissed his jaw, turning to glance around for my mère. "You should not worry, she liked you for that brief moment when you and I first met."
He nodded. "Yes, and since you and I have met your hair has grown longer. She'll think me to be a punk!"
I laughed, kissing his cheek. "No she won't, she'll love you. I know she will, I promise."
My eyes scanned the crowed that bustled around the airport. There were several women there that somewhat resembled my mère, having curly brown hair and pale skin. There was one woman, though, and she was blond and was obviously pregnant; she looked exactly like Maman except for these two features.
The blonde looked to me, her face lighting up suddenly and she waved, waddling over to Enjolras and me. "Grantaire, chéri!" she called, and once she made it over to us she pulled me into her embrace. She had changed drastically in the few months since we had been apart, but I was glad to be back in her arms.
My mère's arms brought me such comfort, and at first I wondered if anything would compare to hers. But then I realised, as much as they did, Enjolras's arms were the best. I glanced to him, clearing my throat.
"Maman, this is Enjolras," I said, reintroducing my boyfriend and my mother. "Enjolras, mon ange, this is my mère."
"Call me Evangeline," she asked with a smile.
Enjolras bowed his head, but then Maman hugged him; I imagined this was the best hug in the world. Maman kissed both of his cheeks, doing the same to mine.
I motioned to her baby bump. "Maman, you did not tell me!"
She blushed a little, smiling. "Claude and I are engaged to marry now!"
I laughed, beaming. "Maman, c'est magnifique!" I looked to Enjolras, and he smiled before stepping behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.
"Congratulations, Madame," he said.
"Come, you two. Claude is outside waiting." She took the bag from Enjolras's hand, and he voiced his protests; she ignored him and walked on.
I turned around in Enjolras's arms, putting my arms around his neck and kissing him softly. He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to the tip of my nose. Excited couldn't even begin to describe how I felt. Around him, I was as happy as a clam. As far as I was concerned, I was unbreakable and invulnerable when I was with him.
"Oi! Grantaire!"
At first, I expected it to be someone friendly towards me. I was excited to tell whoever it was about Enjolras and how happy I had recently become, to explain that nothing was better and how nothing could make me sad again.
But when I turned I found it was not as I hoped. The boys that had destroyed me, that had led me to become suicidal (which I no longer was thanks to Enjolras) were all standing there. Jean-Luc had grown a beard, which was often a sign saying that he had hit manhood. (If that is the case, I hit manhood before him because I had started shaving when I was fourteen.) In fact, three of the four had facial hair. And they had all grown, their shirts and pants too tight for the extra muscle weight.
Jean-Luc walked down the driveway, and by pure instinct I stepped back. My back touched the rear end of Claude's car, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I knew at this point packing the car was coming to a pause.
"I thought I had rid my life of you," I said quickly. My hands clenched into a fist, but I wasn't sure it would be effective if I should chose to defend myself. Silently, I was happy that Enjolras was inside; but at the same time, I thought I would need him.
"You're never getting rid of us," Yves purred, stepping forward.
I cleared my throat. "That's not true," I retorted. "I've got a new life started and everything, I've made it by and I got rid of you."
"A new life?" Michel snorted. "Please. How did you start a new life?"
"I have a boyfriend now," I said, speaking as though Enjolras and I had only just started dating. "I've got friends who except me for who I am, who like me. I haven't done a thing to myself since I left."
Jean-Luc scowled. "This wasn't supposed to happen!" His hand launched forward, but instead of him hitting me he grabbed the front of my shirt. I blinked in surprise. "You were supposed to get bullied at your new school, you faggot! You were supposed to go over the edge when everyone treated you like shit, you weren't supposed to come back alive!"
Suddenly a fist came out of nowhere and struck him in the jaw, hard. My eyes widened as his grasp on me loosened, and he glared at me angrily. I shook my head, thinking it hadn't been me. But there was a small scrape across my knuckles that hadn't been there before.
I had hit him.
"You little shit!" he hissed, pouncing on me.
His hand hit my jaw, as though returning the hit. I growled, and in response I hit him again. He looked utterly surprised, seeing as I had fought back for the first time in my life. And once I had shown what I was made of, I felt confidence in myself. All the same, I did not want to hit him unless he hit me first. I was not a violent person.
The front door of my mère's small house opened and I saw Enjolras stand in the doorway as another punch was now delivered to my gut, knocking me back against the car for the second time. I hit Jean-Luc back, huffing as Enjolras ran over, an arm going around me once he was beside me.
"What is going on here?" he demanded, glaring bullets through Jean-Luc.
My attacker blinked, taking a step back. "H-Hey, we didn't mean any trouble…"
"You obviously did," Enjolras said, shifting his weight onto one leg. "I mean, you were just trying to beat up my man."
Jean-Luc shook his head, and Léonard stepped forward. "Your man is a piece of crap!" he snapped.
In one swift motion, Enjolras hit the boy's jaw as hard as he could and I buried my face in his neck. His grip on me tightened.
"You should remember me, kid. You're the piece of crap, not Grantaire." He let go of me, and suddenly he had knocked Léonard to the ground. He looked to the other three, and Michel cleared his throat before he and Yves ran as fast as they could to get away.
Jean-Luc bent over and picked up Léonard, and the latter's shirt slipped down off his shoulder. I covered my mouth as I gasped, taking a step back.
'Murderer' was carved (obviously by a knife) in Léonard's shoulder. I swallowed nervously, then leaned back as the two bullies walked off. Enjolras's back to me, he was breathing heavily and his fists were clenched. It did not take a genius to see that he had done that to the boys that had ruined my childhood.
"Enjolras?" I asked quietly.
He ducked his head and I stepped forward, touching his shoulder. He sheepishly turned his head, looking to me. There was visible fear in his eyes, visible pain and anger. I was more than a little surprised when he threw his arms around my neck and held onto me tightly.
I patted his back, and together we sank to the ground. I didn't understand what was going on, and I tried to think it through. But I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard him sob.
What was going on?
Enjolras was strong. Stronger than strong, even. He was emotionally stable, always had been. His mother was a sweet lady, I had met her because she worked at the school. He was spoiled beyond belief, he had no worries. But he was crying. I looked down at him. "Enjolras, guerrier," I whispered, "what's wrong?"
"I did that to them, the scars," he sniffed. "I couldn't stand it, I couldn't...What they did to you…" His fingers clenched. "They deserved it!"
Despite showing weakness, he was still full of that passionate fire I had come to know and love. Once he found a worthy cause, he was devoted it until the end, no questions asked. And I was a worthy cause to him. He had told me before that I was worth everything in the world, in his world.
"It...It gave me another bullet...I'm sure of it, there's only some time left…"
A bullet?
"A bullet? Guerrier, what are you talking about?"
He shook his head, pulling back. Tears stained that gorgeous face of his, and I could not help myself and kissed those blasted tears away.
"I-I can't tell you, you'll find out soon enough…"
It worried me, to hear the fear in his voice. Enjolras was scared, so I had to be brave. For him. I knew I never wanted to find out what a 'bullet' referred to, I was almost sure of it. But I had to if I wanted to return the favour and protect him. I wanted more than anything to keep him safe as he had done to me.
"Boys!" Maman called. "Où êtes-vous?"
I turned my head. "We're outside, Maman! The packing is done!"
"Come inside, you'll catch cold! We leave in dix minutes!"
I looked at Enjolras. "Guerrier, stay strong. I love you, I love you, I love you."
He looked to me, then nodded and leant up to kiss me. "Chéri, je t'adore." He kissed me again.
Nodding, I pulled him to his feet and let him lean against me. When he wasn't strong, I had to be. For once, I was going to be his person to lean on, not the other way around. This was for him.
He sniffed the air, and then stood up straight. "Do I smell beer?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Go figure he would notice now.
"No, of course not," I said, a little too quickly.
"Chéri," he started.
"I haven't been drinking!"
He exhaled slowly and rocked back onto his heels. "I didn't suggest that you were drinking," he said in a quiet voice.
Way to go, me. He found out from my basic stupidity, my simplicity. I let the cat out of the bag and I just hoped he wouldn't tell Maman.
"You...You drink?"
I nodded, shyly at first. He pursed his lips, nodding in return. Silence devoured us rapidly, and for the first time in a long time it was not the most comforting silence. This one was tense and a bit awkward. I was the awkward one; he was the one full of tension.
"How long has it been?" he asked. "Since you started?"
I paused before answering. "Two years."
He nodded again. After a moment, he cleared his throat.
"You've been an alcoholic for two years." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
"I-I never said—"
"But you have been."
Finding myself in defeat, I nodded. He avoided my eye, and I took note of the contemplative fire that was often there. But this flame within him was burning brighter, larger than before; and it was obvious that he was full of anger and, what seemed to be, hurt.
"You should have said something."
"You should have told me about this bullet thing too. But you won't let a word out."
He glared at me. "I can't tell you because I'm forbidden."
I returned his look, unable to feel a bit pained. "Well maybe I didn't tell you because you worry about me enough as it is."
His worrying bothered me more than my mère's worrying. It was more natural from her, after all these years. With him, it was still alien to me; I was not accustomed to people outside of my family worrying for me. And then I realised: He is my family. Nobody was closer to me than Enjolras was. He had every right to worry. He was worried because I was getting hurt, whether the source of my pain was physical, emotional, or mental, and whether it was because of an outsider or within me. He was going to worry about me as long as we were together, and even beyond then.
He was going to worry about me for eternity.
"I wish I could help," he said, voice faint.
I shook my head. "You don't need to. It's just going to kill me one day anyways, my alcoholism."
"I'll give you my fucking liver if I have to, I'm not losing you."
"Enjolras—"
"Not in a million years. I'm not ready to lose you, I don't think I ever will be. As much as I despise Rick Astley, I agree with that bloody song of his. 'I'm never gonna give you up.' I love you more than life itself, Grantaire. God, I-I've never felt this way for anyone in the world! I met you, and everything changed. I've known for the past two months that one day I'm going to marry you. You and I are going to adopt kids, take in a dog and a cat and a hedgehog. We're going to get jobs and enjoy each other's company. We're going to be the happiest people on earth, no matter what! We're going to watch our kids grow up and go off to college. We're going to depend on each other for a million years. I'm going to grow old with you by my side, and I'm going to die with you by my side. I wouldn't have it any other way. I need you more than I ever thought I did.
"I'm going to make sure you don't die. I will give up everything in a second for you. If you need a liver? Take my liver. You need a kidney? Take a kidney! If you go blind, please! take my eyes. I'd lay down my life for you. If we were both to be tested against each other, and one of us was to be killed, I would make sure you never saw my demise and ensure your happiness as much as I can. You are the most a-amazing guy! Hell, I've never stuttered before, but when I'm around you...I can't seem to stop!
"I don't get nervous often, you know that. I bet you didn't even know that I rhyme when I'm nervous. But one day, when something happens to you, I'll be talking like a madman and rhyming everything I say. And one day, that day you and I are up there on an altar exchanging our vows? I'm going to be fucking Shakespeare up there, rhyming as if my life depended on it."
There was a long pause.
"Marry me."
