6/7/13

Sorry for the long wait guys! Urg, I have been so busy lately!

I am now doing Camp NaNoWriMo so updates will be slower on all my fics and my aunt is sort of dying so I'm going through hard times at the moment … updates will be few until I am back to my normal self.

Chapter 6

Jehan drifted in and out of sleep. He didn't want to sleep while anything could still happen to Courfeyrac. He needed his 'Fey to wake up now; his little heart could not take much more of this wait. Every moment his mind flashed with images of their days together and he felt on the verge of tears once again. Grantaire had been like a rock in these troubled times. His best friend was all you could need in a disaster; he was cool, collected and soft. The complete opposite to how he was in normal life. Some people broke down and crumbled into rubble in an earthquake, like Jehan; but some people stood tall even if their foundations were trembling, like Grantaire. All the other Amis had gone home but Jehan refused to leave Courfeyrac and Grantaire refused to leave Jehan in this weak state. Grantaire was currently fast asleep, cuddling close to Jehan's slender feminine form as if Jehan would blow away if he let go of his arm. Jehan didn't trust himself not to blow away if Grantaire let go of him.

It was hours of this dreadful limbo state before the world kick-started once again. The machines began to bleep and both men jumped awake. Courfeyrac was struggling on the bed and Jehan was instantly at his lover's side. Grantaire, for once being the rational one in this situation, pressed the emergency button and people almost instantly flooded in to help save their friend. The sober drunkard prised Jehan away and cradled the young poet in his shaking arms. However, Grantaire then buried his head in Jehan's hair unable to watch what was happening in front of his eyes. Both men were ushered out of the room back onto those painful waiting room chairs that lingered in the corridor. Jehan was sobbing once again and Grantaire could feel his own resolve starting to waver. He needed a drink but he really needed to be sober; the inner turmoil was painful and was taking its toll on his body. His usually slender frame was shrinking by the day and his skin fading from its usual slightly tanned complexion to a shade white as Courfeyrac's. Grantaire closed his eyes with a sigh as Jehan continued to cry.

It was hours before the two men were let back into Courfeyrac's hospital room, this time with good news for them. Courfeyrac was awake and coherent. He was still incredibly tired and fragile but for once his friends could see him healing. Jehan was overjoyed and the only thing that stopped his pouncing on his boyfriend was the grip Grantaire had on the little poet's shoulder. Jehan nodded thankfully at Grantaire. He sat down timidly next to his boyfriend and Grantaire gave them their space. "My baby," Jehan whispered with tears in his eyes as he brushed Courfeyrac's hair behind his ear tenderly.

"My poet," Courfeyrac smiled weakly leaning up to kiss Jehan. Jehan took the time to examine all Courfeyrac's injuries. Fortunately they were not too serious; it was the head injury that had caused this all. But as well as that his right leg had a nasty break and his whole right arm was battered and bruised.

"Never do this to me again alright?" Jehan begged with tears streaming down his face.

"I won't Jean, I promise," Courfeyrac nodded, sitting up. He gave a little nod to Grantaire who was still leaning in the doorway. Grantaire frowned then shook his head in response. Jehan's head darted between the two of them with confusion etched on his features. Eventually after a few moments of this nonverbal communication, it seemed like Courfeyrac had won. Grantaire sighed with an exaggerated eye roll before kneeling next to Courfeyrac's bed and hurriedly passing him some object. Grantaire retreated away again; Jehan was growing ever more confused by the second.

"Robin, darling? What's going on?" he asked his injured lover.

"There's something I have been meaning to ask you for a while, my Jehan," Courfeyrac smiled, holding Jehan's trembling hand. "And when I thought I was never going to see you again it made it all the more urgent to say," he added, and started massaging the top of Jehan's hand. Courfeyrac pulled out a golden ring in a black velvet box, "Jean Prouvaire … will you marry me?"