Even after the situation had been discussed and reviewed, no one left just yet. Books were packed away, but everyone just perched on the edge of their desks, wanting to keep the company a little while longer. Thankfully, at long last, it'd cooled down at least a bit, the sun taking a break behind some clouds and giving the students a few minutes of freedom from the heat of the afternoon. However, nothing good lasts forever, and even as they said their goodbyes to the teacher and headed outside onto the grass, all were moaning about the humidity soon enough. They settled in a large sort-of circle in the shade of a cluster of trees, some laying back with bags as pillows, other finding a lap to rest in.

After some harsh words were exchanged, Montparnasse ended up being the only one of his trio of friends to remain with the group, standing off to the side, as if he required an invitation to enter the social circle. And at first, it appeared that he might have regretted deciding to stay behind, given that his presence wasn't exactly welcome – until Jehan beckoned him over, moving over to give him his own space.

As the black haired boy made himself comfortable, his companion pulled his hair back into a half-hearted ponytail, most of the shorter strands escaping his grip even before he'd finished with the tie. But even if most of it came out of its restraints, having his neck exposed meant that the thin layer of sweat found there had the chance to cool him off. Those with thicker, darker hair had long since given up trying to combat it, though when Courfeyrac felt someone gently tilt his head forward, with short bursts of air dusting across his nape, he found himself grinning in relief, shooting Feuilly a look of theatrical gratitude over his shoulder has he fanned him.

"Just so we're clear - out of three rounds, we only won one of them. Fantastic."

"Does it matter?" Said Marius, meeting Courfeyrac's raised brow-look with a short shrug, and a smile of his own.

"I mean, I thought this was really interesting; it made us all think, and it was memorable. The rest of my classes haven't nearly been this good."

"He's got a point – all we did in English was watch a movie." Agreed Joly.

"So…what now? Are you all just going your separate ways, or are we invading someone's place and then not leaving until the wee hours of the morning? Because, I for one am up for that."

Grantaire's suggestion was met with general anticipation, though the decision of whose house they should all invade came up soon after. Eventually, it came down to either Bahorel or Musichetta, and after a text or two had been sent and some debate had, Musichetta caved, and thus the situation was resolved. Times were set, and so their evening was planned out. But for the time being, the class decided to while away some more of the afternoon outside, savouring each other's company in this particular setting. Some fell asleep as music was put on, and while the conversation wasn't loud or too deep, even in the peace and quiet the group found themselves content.

Jehan and Montparnasse continued their flirtatious exchanges, much to the surprise and uncertainty of some of the others. Montparnasse was not thought highly of in the group by any stretch of the imagination, and when it came to the youngest among them, although Jehan was more than capable of looking after himself, a select few watched the scene unfold through protective, distrusting eyes. These looks were ignored, however, as both boys let themselves enjoy the moment, knowing it wouldn't be interrupted this time by infectious disease.

Across the way, on the other hand, Grantaire and Enjolras were sat against one another, hands tentatively entwined and the words and thoughts shared quiet and shy, but honest. Neither of them had expected one class to open this particular door for them, but as farfetched as it might have seemed when the bell had first rung, neither were complaining now that it was over. One thing none of them had really thought about was what they planned to do once the summer was over, once they'd graduated – but until then, they were happy to live in the moment, and enjoy their time together while it lasted. And who knows? Maybe a fourth round of the Philosophy game would take place later that evening, at 3am when all were just a little inebriated on wine and good company. Grantaire knew he wasn't alone in the hope that they'd get one more chance to play; after all, what good is a game if it doesn't leave you wanting 'just one more round'?

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