"And I never even got my beer," Courfeyrac said with fake displeasure.
"Oh quit your whining, the beer wasn't even that good," Combeferre said.
" But I paid …" Courfeyrac attempted a manly scowl followed by a sexy smolder.
"It's not working, I don't know how you even manage to pick up women with your constipated expressions."
"Boys! Hear this! Is wittle Enjy jeawous?" Courfeyrac said in his annoying baby voice.
"Your immaturity is truly astounding, do remember the posters this time and try not to get yourself killed before our next meeting". Enjolras said while trying not to smile.
December 9th, 1774
The morning sun beat down on the pavement. It was finally clear for once, however, the glare from the snow had everybody squinting their eyes. Enjolras stood upon the creaking wooden platform as he watched and listened to the crunching through snow made by civilians rushing to and fro and the little clouds of frosted breath that they left behind.
"Uh, do we start yelling now or what?" Combeferre said from beside him.
"I thank you for your enthusiasm," Enjolras replied. "But no, let's wait for the others first."
"Right, although I am quite cold."
Enjolras agreed.
They stood shivering upon the platform for a few moments more as they scanned the crowd for the rest of the group. Soon, the boisterous laughs and familiar hats alerted them of their presence.
" You pigs! I can't believe you addlepated idiots went to get coffee while leaving us stranded in the cold." Combeferre said, indignant while Enjolras glared.
"Supporting the cause, that is all," Courfeyrac smirked as he toasted Joly.
"I am so going to kick your sniggering faces into cow manure," Enjolras said.
"Anyways, the posters are up but Bahorel did almost get decapitated by the tories," Joly added, while Bahorel nodded in confirmation.
"That's great. I suppose we better get started." Said Enjolras, chuckling.
A clear voice rang out through the square, accompanied by various shouts of agreement. People started gathering near, often nodding in support and occasionally joining in on the yelling.
Eventually, even loyalists joined in on the fun, small fights were breaking out as the crowd grew and grew. It took no time at all before the square was filled to the brim. There was a cacophony of thundering voices, most of them advocating for the same thing.
However, the clopping of horse hooves effectively silenced the symphony.
" By the order of the King, you are to all return to your tasks and cause no more disruption."
Everyone was adequately frightened by the pointed rifles. The crowd soon began to disperse, but not without looks of disdain and fists of dissent aimed at the redcoats.
"Next Friday! We meet again next Friday!" Courfeyrac shouted when he realized Enjolras wasn't saying anything.
Enjolras was scrutinizing the soldier upon the horse. It was undoubtedly the same chap that he beat up at the bar a week ago. But the real feature of interest was the soldier's curly-haired friend.
Enjolras found himself staring at him, he couldn't bring himself to look away. It was only a matter of time before the redcoat's chestnut brown eyes locked with his.
"Ahem, we should clear up now," Enjolras said, clearing his throat and looking to the ground. He tried to ignore the feeling that the soldier was still looking at him.
The square was mostly empty by now and the clopping soon resumed and the redcoats rode away.
"Britain keeps sending more and more soldiers," Combeferre fumed, "Those nosy, corny-faced, scrubs". This was met by many nods of agreements.
"Enjolras, are you alright?" Courfeyrac said when he realized that he was still silent.
"Me? Oh, I'm fine, perfectly fine. Why would you think that I wasn't fine? I'm perfectly fine. Wait, don't you still owe Combeferre and me a cup of coffee? C'mon, everyone! Coffee's on Courfeyrac!"
Courfeyrac was a bit skeptical of the jarring change of subject, but he did not bring it up.
The gang made their way to a tiny but lively cafe near the harbor used almost exclusively by patriots. They were long friends with the owner so they were allowed into the usually inaccessible back room and received many free treats courtesy of her.
Grabbing their steaming cups of coffee, they bustled along to the back.
"Oh, how I miss tea," Bahorel said.
"Well, don't let Enjolras hear you say that," Courfeyrac noted.
"I did hear that!" Enjolras said grinning.
Plopping into their chairs, the conversation started.
"Next time, I'm going with Courferyac on poster duty to make sure he doesn't slack off and get food without us." Declared Combeferre.
"True! And someone needs to go with Marius to make sure he doesn't go and run off with the baker's daughter again." Feuilly added.
"Speaking of Marius, he's not with us," Enjolras said, worried.
"Oh, don't worry, probably snogging his nose off with Cosette somewhere. If Marius can get a girlfriend with his despicable flirting skills, there's some hope for you Enjy after all."
Courfeyrac remarked.
"Well, that really reminds me to knock your head into manure," Enjolras said, unamused.
And so the conversation continued, laughter and shouts filled the room while the drinks slowly depleted.
"Is it too early for wine?" Asked Courfeyrac.
"I've seen you drink at ten in the morning, it's never too early for you," Combeferre responded.
"Wait, what time is it?" Said Enjolras.
"Should be around two." Answered Joly.
"Oh, I've got to go pick up eggs and bread for my mother, she said we might be having guests."
"Having guests huh? A party I expect, how come I wasn't invited?" Joked Courfeyrac.
"We all know that the amount of food you eat would bankrupt any host. Anyhow, I'll see you guys tomorrow."
Words of farewell were spoken as Enjolras pulled on his coat and tied his scarf.
It had started to snow again outside. It had grown considerably colder, the afternoon sun was still high in the sky, but it did little to warm the air. Enjolras walked quickly to his mother's favorite bakery. He set a quick pace, shoes clicking fast against the cobble.
"Hullo, mister!" Announced Gavroche. Gavroche was the regular helper at Valjean's bakery, he didn't earn much money but he was allowed to bring home as much bread as he liked at the end of the day. He was very outspoken and would have joined Enjolras's protests if he was old enough.
"Hello Gavroche, I'll have about five loaves." Said Enjolras.
"Five loaves? Is it someone's birthday? Can I come?" Gavroche asked as he went to fetch the loaves.
"Sadly no, but when it is, you can definitely come." Enjolras laughed.
Gavroche wrapped up the bread and handed it over the counter while Enjolras pulled out some coins.
"Here's a little extra to buy what you would like, although if you buy candy, don't tell your mother it was my money, or else she'll have my head."
"Oh thank you, mister! I'll be careful." Gavroche said, grinning, ear to ear.
Enjolras headed over to the marketplace to pick up the eggs. After haggling with the shopkeeper about the price because he might have given a bit too much to Gavroche, he received the two dozen eggs and started the journey to lug the food back home.
The snow was worsening and the wind was starting. Enjolras sorely regretted the fact that he did not bring enough money to get a carriage. It was quite a distance from the town to his family's manor, and he had to lug way too many fragile eggs with him.
He arrived back home after about an hour, cold, wet, and very red in the face from the wind.
"Enjolras honey, thank you so much, did you have to walk through that horrible weather? Oh, I'm so sorry, if I had known, I would have sent a servant. But they're all needed for cooking right now." Said Enjolras's mother.
"Who are we having over?" Enjolras asked, confused.
It was then when he saw the soldiers in the parlor.
"Mother, it's our house, they have absolutely no right to barge in like-"
"Honey, don't get too mad in front of them, they won't like that. I had to kick your father out of the house because he was enraged and he couldn't calm down. He's probably somewhere out in a bar complaining about this to his friends. Oh, and do help me set up the table dear."
Enjolras grudgingly followed his mother into the dining room. He grabbed the plates and started placing them down aggressively.
"Dear, do be careful with the china."
Enjolras did not become any less aggressive. He was positively fuming. It would take a great deal of self-control to not murder them in their sleep.
A mess of curls poked through the doorway.
"Um, where do you guys keep the wine?" Said the same soldier that Enjolras kept on meeting.