Grantaire gingerly followed the blonde man to the basement. He found himself transfixed with the man. Grantaire watched as they descended the stairs, the man's slightly wavy hair bouncing at every step.
The benefit of staring at someone from behind was that they could not catch you in the act. However, the downsides were that you rarely see their visage, so Grantaire became very acquainted with the man's hair.
"I'm Grantaire, by the way."
The blonde man gave no reply.
They walked through the narrow stone hallways to reach the damp storeroom. The man pointed vaguely to the numerous barrels and roughly tossed a tankard at him.
Grantaire cleared his throat. "Thanks," he mumbled.
The man had left already.
Grantaire sighed and shuffled to the barrels. He turned the taps and started filling up his tankard.
Grantaire sat down on a barrel and tipped the tankard towards his mouth. His thoughts returned to the blonde man once more. His memories drifted to earlier that day at the crowded square. His voice was loud and full of passion. His stance commanded respect and attention.
He was a believer, an optimist, while Grantaire was the exact opposite. Yet despite the difference in beliefs and attitude, he respected him, admired even.
Grantaire was jolted out of his thoughts by the familiar lilt of Montparnasse.
"I see you've hit the jackpot," Montparnasse said as he slithered towards him.
"I assume you're here looking for your share of treasure as well," Grantaire said, patting the barrel.
"Sure am! Pass me a cup, mate."
"No can do," Grantaire said. "I've got the only one, you better get back up and ask for another,"
"Ugh, I don't want to talk to that grumpy chap again, he looks like he wants to murder me. Guess we'll have to share."
Montparnasse chuckled as he reached for the tankard. Grantaire very reluctantly passed it to him, but only because he felt the struggles of attempting to converse with that blonde man.
Montparnasse slurped up the content of the whole tankard much too fast, all the while dribbling large amounts of it down his uniform.
"Montparnasse you slob," Grantaire laughed. "Don't you go wasting so much, this is quality wine."
"We've got so much though," Montparnasse said while filling the tankard up again. "This family's mighty rich. Heard there's roast chicken and steak for supper."
Grantaire and Montparnasse stumbled up the stairs once they felt adequately drunk. They had great difficulty ascending the steep, wet, and dimly lit staircase. They did eventually get to the ground floor, but it wasn't without a copious amount of falling.
They followed the sounds of merry-making to the dining room.
"Ah! There they are, you've come too late. We did send Gueulemer here after you, but god knows if this ape is even capable of intelligent thought. Well, I suppose there is some bread and gravy left."
"Roast chicken?" Montparnasse asked, slurring his words.
" 'fraid not."
"Well, I'm going to bed," Montparnasse muttered while heading off in a random direction. He was saved fortunately by a passing servant who directed him to the right room.
Grantaire tripped after him.
They passed through identical hallways, turning here and there, the world blurring. When they finally reached the makeshift bedroom. Grantaire all but collapsed into the small cot laid out for them.
Grantaire woke to footsteps and hushed laughter. He rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the lantern night.
"Oh! Sorry didn't mean to wake you there."
Grantaire's head felt like exploding.
"What's the time?" Grantaire asked
"Should be around four, such a pity you missed the card game, I'll fill you in once the sun rises I suppose, you should get some sleep."
Each syllable was like a nail in his brain. Grantaire squinted his eyes, looking for Montparnasse. He was fast asleep and snoring.
" 'm going out," Grantaire stumbled to his feet.
"Oh alright, but I'm going to bed."
Grantaire shrugged on his discarded jacket and relieved the man of his lantern. He needed some fresh air. He wandered the massive halls of the manor for quite some time, feeling completely clueless. His hangover was not helping him either.
It was by sheer luck that he came upon the door. Pushing it, he stumbled out into the cold but refreshing air. Grantaire took a deep breath, sighing in relief as it seemed to have calmed the storm in his head.
He raised his lantern and took in his surroundings. Grantaire inferred from the neatly trimmed bushes and beds of flowers that he had somehow discovered the back gardens.
He took to strolling the gravel paths, admiring the fountains that he sometimes found.
He did not intend to come upon any others on his trip.
Chance has it was the blonde man.
Grantaire could hear him audibly sigh in exasperation. Grantaire did not blame him. He would not like to meet himself either.
"Good evening." Grantaire said hoarsely.
The man scoffed and pushed past him.
"Can you stop following me?"
Grantaire looked around, it turns out he was following the man. To be honest, he had completely no idea why.
"I didn't catch your name." Grantaire said.
"Enjolras," He said, seething.
Grantaire vaguely remembered that name being mentioned back in the pub.
"Where are you heading?" Grantaire asked? Words still slurring together.
No reply. It was completely silent save for two pairs of footsteps crunching on gravel.
Grantaire had no idea why he was still following, but he decided to trust his feet.
" How much fucking wine did you drink? " Enjolras turned around, face twisted in irritation.
"Not sure." It was true.
They walked in silence for a few moments longer. Grantaire could see a dark blob in the distance, which Grantaire assumed was the manor.
Then, they were somehow indoors again. Grantaire rubbed his eyes, he could hold alcohol better than this.
Before long, they arrived at the bedroom, Grantaire was roughly shoved inside.
" Goodnight," Enjolras said, slamming the door.
Grantaire toyed with the idea to go out and annoy Enjolras further, but he decided that he liked the idea of sleep better. After putting out the lantern, he let sleep come to him.
Grantaire was roused by Montparnasse violently shaking him.
"Javert will have our asses, get up! It's that damn accursed wine. I'm to scrub the toilets again and wash the uniforms. You'd better go report to Javert's if you want a lesser punishment."
"Eurgh?" Grantaire mumbled.
"Javert wants to see you, and don't act so drunk."
Once Montparnasse felt that Grantaire was sufficiently awake, he left, presumably to start on his tedious tasks.
After freshening up a bit, Grantaire began his journey of doom. He had gotten into trouble many times, Javert was no doubt thoroughly sick of his antics, yet he does seem to visibly lighten up when doling out punishment.
Grantaire needed much help from the servants to find Javert's temporary office.
"Grantaire sir, you asked to see me?" Grantaire said, knocking.
Grantaire was met with silence.
"Sir?"
The silence was replaced by a flurry of closing and opening drawer doors. Thinking it was strange, Grantaire opened the door.
"I'm coming in sir."
The door swung open, Javert was not in his office.
A pair of dark blue eyes stared up at him.