Grantaire allowed his blond idol inside and invited him to sit. Enjolras sat on the edge of the chair and attempted to control his lip from curling in disgust at the smell of alcohol, drunkenness, and an unkept room.
"you wanted to talk." Grantaire reminded him gruffly and took a swig from a mostly emptied bottle.
"Yes," Enjolras agreed. "I-"
"I know I failed. You don't need to tell me that, my dear Apollo." The cynic interrupted. Enjolras stiffened and regarded the man coldly.
"that wasn't what I intended to say." his tone was cool. "I would like to know why."
"Im quite drunk. You'll have to be slightly more specific I'm afraid." the drunkard replied with an infuriating smirk.
"Why haven't you returned?" Enjolras rephrased.
the cynic emptied the remains of his bottle and looked away. "I knew you would be disappointed in me. Just like you were when you found me playing dominoes or whatever I was doing that day." Grantaire's voice had lost all it's sarcasm and cleverness. Now it was only pain and self loathing.
"I am disappointed, but if you had returned at least you could have explained your actions." the blond countered In the same cold tone.
"what could would it have done?" Grantaire demanded. "You wouldn't understand. You're beyond all weakness! You soar above all us mere mortals and yet you only wish to help us. Your goodness is wasted on an unforgiving world!"
Enjolras was surprised by the outburst. "Grantaire, you're wrong. I am not better than any other man, I only see the world differently than some."
"No," Grantaire shook his head firmly. "You are no mere man. You're a beautiful angel from some other realm." He knew he was speaking far too openly with his hero, but hecouldn't help it. He reached for another bottle. Enjolras took this opportunity to interrupt.m
"I'm a twenty-three year old man. My parents are bourgeois and I attend a university. Grantaire, you are delusional because of your drink." Enjolras stated patiently, but still coldly. "I truly am a man. Just as Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Prouvaire, and the others."
there was a heavy silence once the leader spoke those words.
"You show no weakness. You have no lusts, no pleasures, no temptations, no fear. You cannot make me believe you are less than Apollo himself, god of the sun, for you are more beautiful than any creature I have ever beheld. You shouldn't have come here, Enjolras. You should have left me to my drink." Grantaire spoke in miserable awe. Enjolras was revolted by the adoration in the cynics voice. It seemed as though the man worshipped him, and this Enjolras could not allow.
"Stop." The blond spoke calmly, but with god-like authority and power. Grantaire obeyed and pressed his lips tightly together. "why did you fail? Why didn't you do as I asked?" Enjolras asked to change the subject.
"I wanted to. I walked in and formed a plan in my mind, decided what to say, but then," Grantaire took a gulp of the vile liquid. "They offered to play and bight me a drink. you don't understand weakness, but that is mine. it numbs the emptiness inside of me."
Enjolras scoffed. "You are only empty because you lack belief! You are not capable of living, or eating, or sleeping, or dying! You believe life is a hopeless waste and spend your time indulging far too much in pleasures.
"What good is a life wasted on giving in to weakness and forgetting about other?"
"You're remarkable." was Grantaire's only response. It was spoken as one might sound gazing upon a beautiful scene or into the eyes of a lover.
"If you wish to return, there is no one there who will stop you." Enjolras said as he stood and began walking to the door. He had had enough of this foolishness. Besides, he had wasted valuable time that could have been better spent on France. Enjolras couldn't help Grantaire if the cynic wouldn't help himself.
"No, no, don't leave!" The drunk slurred and tried to stand, but wobbled too much and fell back into his chair loudly. Enjolras looked at Grantaire.
"Sleep away your drunken haze. perhaps then you will see reason." Then the angel walked to the door and flew away.
Jean Prouvaire looked up as Enjolras reentered the café Musain.
"Did you speak with him?" The poet inquired kindly.
"Yes, but it has accomplished little. I cannot say whether he is to return or not, but I did tell him that he could if he wished." Enjolras answered and then turned to the others. "We will hold a rally tomorrow in front of Lamarque's house. Prouvaire, you will be our watchman to see if we've caught unwanted attention.
"Courfeyrac, you will speak with me. Feuilly, Joly, Bahorel, Lesgle, and Combeferre, you will help distribute pamphlets." Enjolras instructed before pulling Jehan and Combeferre aside.
"We must spend the remainder of our time here preparing pamphlets for the next rally. Tomorrow's have already been prepared, but we will need more. They mustn't be the same each time." The leader said. the two others nodded in agreement.
Once the pamphlets were plotted out, Enjolras allowed Prouvaire and Combeferre to leave. The others had left an hour or so ago.
The leader was packing up, putting his papers into his satchel and readying his mind for sleep, when the door opened. Enjolras looked up puzzled and found Grantaire standing in the doorway.
"You've returned I see." Enjolras spoke first. "Although you've come a little late."
"I think I'll come back." Grantaire said gruffly, but then paused and softened his voice and expression a little. "If you don't mind."
"I've already told you I don't. Now go home! There is a rally tomorrow in front of Lamarques house if you care to come. Goodnight." and Enjolras left again.
