2/12/13

I have three things to say:

1 – IT'S DECEMBER AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

2 – Sorry for this taking so long

3 – Sorry it is so short, plot is escaping me at the moment so you may not have from this for a little bit.

Chapter 10

Cosette tore through the apartment cleaning up everything in her wake, leaving Eponine gawping in the centre of the sitting room. She didn't even know who this girl was let alone why she was on a cleaning spree. "Excuse me, but who are you?" Eponine asked when she finally managed to pin Cosette into a corner.

"I'm Cosette, I'm Monsieur Grantaire's intern at the office. Monsieur Combeferre called saying that you and Nic needed help and I instantly volunteered," she giggled before darting off again. "Now you rest and get ready for work. I'll keep Nicolas safe," she smiled and Eponine nodded gratefully before walking back into her room and collapsing on the bed. She was asleep within minutes.

"Hey Taire," Cosette whispered sliding into the dark room. Grantaire's figure was visable through the minimal light squeezing its way into the room. He was curled up on his small stained mattress clutching an empty wine bottle to his chest. Upon closer inspection Cosette could see dried tear tracks staining his face and it was obvious he hadn't washed, eaten or slept since he returned home. "Can I help you?" Cosette asked, sitting down on the mattress next to him.

"I want the pain to go away," Grantaire sobbed, chewing on the blanket as a subconscious calming motion. Cosette's heart broke with those pain filled words and her fingers instantly curled through his hair to sooth his tears. The motion seemed to work as Grantaire moved closer and rested his hair on her lap in his despaired delirium.

"I can't do that … but you can sweetie," Cosette murmured, still continuing to play with his hair. "The pain will go away if you get back on with your life. Find someone else to write about, leave Enjolras behind you," Cosette insisted. It took a bit of convincing but eventually, Grantaire promised to try and got to his feet unsteadily. As soon as Grantaire was in the shower Cosette pulled out her phone and called Combeferre. "Hey Cette, how's it going?" Combeferre asked as soon as he picked up.
"I've got him out of bed and in the shower, it's all up to you now boys," Cosette sighed, massaging her forehead. She couldn't believe that Combeferre had managed to rope her into this harebrained scheme of theirs to get Grantaire and Enjolras back together. At least it was helping Grantaire get better, he was going back out into the world ... That had to count for something in this plot they were planning.

XXX

It was weeks before Enjolras actually managed to find Grantaire. The drunkard had taken to disappearing at unearthly hours in the morning and either coming home really late or not returning for days. However despite this erratic behaviour, Grantaire had made a name for himself as a journalist and was often recruited by the major newspapers. He even had his own online political column. However when Enjolras found him it was purely by chance. For months Enjolras had been telling his friends of Grantaire; and for months his friends had been telling him of a new member to their friendly group. The Amis were the group that planned everything with Enjolras; all his laws, speeches, everything. The day Enjolras found Grantaire was when he arrived at the meeting to words of a spy in their midst. "I can't believe it Enjolras!" Courfeyrac exclaimed. "Over the weeks you were away, he worked his way into our group. We were great friends, almost brothers until we caught him snooping in our files," he explained and everyone else nodded along with him, rage and anger filling the room.
"Take me to him," Enjolras nodded, his face stoic and unchanging as Courfeyrac opened the door to their back room. Grantaire sat there, tied to the table leg. His hands were bound tightly behind his back, mouth gaged and eyes blindfolded. He was oblivious to Enjolras' entrance but perked up at the sound, shifting his body subtly. Courfeyrac moved to pull the blindfold off but Enjolras stopped him with a silent shake of his head. Courfeyrac frowned at Enjolras, one eyebrow raised in confusion but still complied with his leader's wishes. He cautiously untied the gag and dodged Grantaire's spit aimed at his face.
"Let me go!" Grantaire snarled with a venom that Enjolras had never heard his voice contain before. "I haven't done anything Courfeyrac, tell your friend that as well!" He screamed, his head turning to face Enjolras. "Yes I'm not stupid, I know there are two of you," he chuckled manically. Grantaire had lost it; the trauma and lies had corrupted his mind. This was what was left off him now; and it was all Enjolras' fault.
"Let him go Fey," Enjolras whispered, making sure to disguise his voice from Grantaire. He quickly cut off Courfeyrac's objections with a death glare before fleeing the room as fast as his thumping heart could take him. It's all my fault, his mind screamed as Enjolras ran through the poring rain back to his apartment. The mission suddenly became more important; Enjolras wanted Grantaire back. He had to get his Grantaire back.

XXX

Thoughout the next two weeks, Enjolras was shamelessly flirting with Grantaire without actually seeing his ex. He baked cakes, picked flowers, brought wine, bought Grantaire's painting and sent romantic letters. Trying to get Grantaire back was exhausting but Enjolras would not give up on their love. He needed it; he needed Grantaire to be able to keep him grounded while everyone else proceeded to praise his every word. Grantaire had never been back to the Musain and according to Eponine, he had finally settled down and had begun to write a novel. There was no better time to go and see him. But every time Enjolras got into the car to go to his house, the president found himself subconsciously fleeing in the other direction. But this time he was not allowed to back out of it. He was stood at Grantaire's door, with the amis posted in every direction he could run. He raised his shaking fist and tentatively knocked on the door.