(Oh, man, I'm listening to 'Vincent' by Don McClean… It's so much like post-barricade Enjy, I think I'm gonna cry… yup, here I go… damn… If you want Enjolras, listen to that song…)
(fortunately, didn't cry much...)
Several weeks passed. Grantaire recovered, regained his weight and wit. Enjolras softened, if only a little. They grew together, working out or forgetting the past. They were companions in the truest sense. They shared Enjolras' bed, money, and home, but this was of no importance. They shared each other. They became, for all purposes, one person, neither Enjolras or Grantaire, but both. Neither of them could have explained it, but it had happened, so gradually that they hardly noticed.
Finally, the day came when Grantaire was well. In point of fact, he had been for some time, but on this day he got restless. He had, by some wonder, avoided drink of any kind over these weeks, and he was content with all Enjolras had to offer. Or, he had been. He had, in gaining Enjolras, lost his desire for women, seeing that they were only his seeking of Enjolras. But Bacchus, that dark and fickle god, had released his siren song again, and Grantaire was helpless to resist. Enjolras was at class, and none of Les Amis were around, for once. (So far, Grantaire had hidden whenever an ami was around, until the 'right time', as Enjolras put it). Grantaire was alone, with only the cries of the spirits to guide him. He followed them, neglecting the consequences. He walked, a little unsteadily at first, to the nearest wine shop, having found a few francs in his pocket. Returning to Enjolras' flat with his treasures, he silenced his god with tribute.
It was Wednesday, Enjolras had several classes in a row, so it was some hours before he returned, smiling, laden with food and knowledge. He swept into the room, shouting some cheerful exclamation to his new room mate and lover. There was no answer. Mildly concerned, Enjolras began searching the rooms. As he neared the final room, the bedroom, he grinned. Grantaire must be up to some trick, ready to pounce, he supposed. Stealthily, he pushed the door open as slowly as he could, trying to surprise the other man. There was no attack. Bewildered, he poked his head into the room. Grantaire was on the bed, but neither scantily clad or making any effort at seduction. In fact, he was having difficulty remaining conscious. Enjolras blinked, unable to believe what he was seeing. He had, he admitted, been a little in love with the old Grantaire, but the new, improved version was his amour, his everything. This was no longer the man he knew and loved. He opened his eyes. Grantaire was in the same position, surrounded by empty bottles. Without any conscious thought, Enjolras brushed away a tear angrily. He was speechless, for once. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Grantaire must have heard some small sound, for he looked up, slowly and shakily. He had drunk more than he usually would have, even with his tolerance he had once possessed. He grinned, in an attempt to be sexy, but only made Enjolras angrier.
Enjolras finally managed to speak. "Get…out."
Grantaire blinked, still smiling. "W-wha'?"
"GET OUT! GET OUT!" Screaming, tears streaming down his face, Enjolras threw himself toward the man on the bed.
He looked so singularity frightening that Grantaire managed to rise, and beat a hasty retreat, ducking to avoid various objects that followed him. He collapsed on Enjolras' step, unable to go further.
Enjolras fell onto the bed, still screaming. He beat at the pillows, attacking anything within reach. Temporarily exhausted, he fell forward, into the chaos. It smelled of Grantaire, both his usual scent and alcohol. Enjolras stood, tore everything off the bed, shredded it, and threw it out the window. The room looked as if hurricane Enjolras had struck. Anything breakable was broken, the books had been shredded, papers covered every surface, and random objects littered the floor. With a final, desperate sobbing scream, Enjolras fell onto the ravished bed, wishing, longing for the forgetfulness of sleep.
(don't worry, mes ami! It'll be happier next chapter. But, they still have ithues that need to be worked out…)