The sixth day was spent apart, Grantaire finally leaving Enjolras' side for more than a few minutes. Enjolras was moved out of the ICU and his living friends could visit. Grantaire watched from outside the window, leaning against the nurse's station, before finally departing. Enjolras looked so happy to be surrounded the people who'd always been at the bar with him. The eccentric one brought a large plant, the bookish one brought Enjolras' backpack.
Grantaire travelled to the park where he'd often visit Bossuet and Joly. The man sat waiting on a bench for what seemed like hours, watching families picnic and children play. It was about midday that Grantaire found himself displaced from that bench when a rather large couple came to take their lunch break there.
The couple looked so happy, their gazes catching each other and smiles erupting. Grantaire felt so helplessly alone, terribly aware that he could never have that with anyone - partly because he was dead, partly because he'd never had anything so intimate in his entire life (and death).
Sure, he'd had pages of physically intimate lovers over the years, most of whom couldn't even be bothered to go to his funeral and pay their respects. But, never had he been with someone who deeply cared for him in the way that this couple cared for each other.
"This sucks." He told the couple, except they didn't seem to hear him.