1 Month Later-
Grantaire practically danced through the house. Marius and Courfeyrac were out and she had the house completely to herself since it was the maid's day off. She was blasting her favorite music and painting a picture of the door way in the grand hall because the light was fantastic. She was taking a large swig of a bottle of wine when the door opened.
"Can you not?" she said, without even looking, she had a just put a paint brush in the side of her mouth. The door shut.
"I thought you were going to be gone all day," She said, still not looking.
"Well, I would wonder how you would know anything about my day," a majestic voice said, "but I'll just assume you were talking to someone else."
Grantaire stuck her head around the canvas and saw Enjolras. Her eyes got wide. She had paintbrushes behind both ears and a paint brush.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, she ducked behind her canvas again and removed as many of the paintbrushes she could remember, forgetting the one shed placed inside her messy bun.
That done she quickly moved around to greet Enjolras.
"Hi. Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone."
"And yet, the door was unlocked."
"Courfeyrac," Was all she said. She wiped her hands on her paint stained jeans, regretting her decision to only wear her ripped, paint jeans and a green cami.
"Ah well, he is rather trusting of humanity," Enjolras said with a small smile.
"Foolish thing to trust in if you ask me," she returned.
"That's rather cynical. A little trust is necessary for humanity to improve."
"Well I've never seen much improvements in my life," Grantaire said, deciding that the best course of action to keep her ability to speak was to go back to her closed off painting, she moved behind the canvas and picked up a brush.
"So that causes you to believe that it's impossible for society to change?" Enjolras questioned, moving to see her better, it rubbed him the wrong way how she chose to ignore him.
"I choose to believe that until there is actual proof of a change in society that it won't happen," Grantaire said leaning forward and adding some more paint to the canvas. Enjolras was even more irritated now.
"But if people are like you and believe things like that, then nothing will ever change."
"Hmm but then there are the people like you Apollo."
"Excuse me?"
"Apollo. Greek god. Son of Zeus, twin brother of Artemis. He was an archer, the god of music, healing, light, and truth. It was his duty to ride his golden chariot across the sky to move the sun," Grantaire said as she continued painting.
"Okay? And why are you calling me Apollo?"
"Because, my dear Greek god, you are the human incarnation of Apollo, I'm sure of it."
"I can assure you that I'm not."
"Alas, and to think I'd finally found a god to follow," Grantaire said sarcastically. Finally, Enjolras moved to see what she was painting and stopped.
"That's beautiful," he said breathlessly.
"Nah," was all she said. Enjolras looked at her and shook his head.
"It is."
"It's not done yet. As far as I'm concerned, it will never be done."
"Why not?"
"Because, I'm and artist. An artist's work is never done."
"That's how a revolutionist is."
"Except that a revolutionist is constantly trying to fix the same things because humanity always falls back."
"Again. A rather cynical statement."
"I'm a rather cynical person," Grantaire said still painting.
"Do you ever get paid to do paintings?"
"Sometimes. Not often enough that I could live on it."
"What if there was something I wanted to you to paint?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck.
"You would ask and I would ask how much you want to pay for it."
"And then?"
"I'd say sure. Because I need money."
"What if there was a painting that I needed made for something special?"
"Same deal."
"And it had to be very specific."
"You'd have to be very specific," Grantaire said. Finally she stepped back, "I think that's good enough."
"Good enough? Mon Dieu, that's magnificent."
"Then take it. Ten bucks and its yours."
"Twenty."
Grantaire looked at him.
"Ten."
"Thirty. Trust me I won't go lower."
"Fifteen."
"Forty."
"God damn it. It's not worth forty."
"Yes it is. In fact it's worth closer to $400," Enjolras said. He pulled out his wallet.
"NO nonononnono," Grantaire said as she backed away, hands up. Her face paled as she looked at the money.
"No," she said firmly. Enjolras raised an eyebrow at her.
"Fine. $400 for this painting and another one that I want done."
"I can't-"
"You're supposed to say sure," Enjolras said with a smirk. Grantaire pressed her lips together.
"You see, this painting is going to be for a child's foundation that is opening in a few weeks. The others and I have been helping get this thing started, and I want a painting made to commemorate the occasion. It needs to be big. What's the biggest canvas you have?"
"I don't know. I was going to go shopping the next time I got paid. I might have a 20x20," she said, crossing her arms.
"Which is how big?"
"It's a square with a 400 inch area," Grantaire said, rolling her eyes.
"Okay is that a really big one?" Enjolras asked.
"You really know nothing about art do you?"
"I'm a politics major," he replied, absentmindedly playing with some of her clean brushes. Grantaire sighed and pushed a stray, black curl out of her face with the side of her hand, she had paint on her fingers. She suspected that she still managed to get paint on her forehead because Enjolras smiled while looking at the top of her head.
"I would suggest, if you want a really large canvas, that you have me get a 36x48. It does cost more but it's a really large canvas."
"Okay," Enjolras said slowly. Grantaire suddenly turned into a business woman and started talking about numbers and such, mostly to herself.
"A 36x48 would cost about $100 at my normal place, plus the cost of paint since I'm low would figure to anywhere from $100 to $200, add that to the cost of time spent on the painting and the cost of talent... that painting alone should cost $400," She was saying to herself, right hand over her mouth in a thinking stance.
"So what about $500?" Enjolras asked. Grantaire looked over at him as if she'd forgotten he was there.
"$500 for the painting I'm ordering and this one," Enjolras clarified, motioning to the painting that Grantaire had just finished.
"Fine. But I owe you a drink sometime," Grantaire said, making a hand motion as if she were dismissing some thought.
"Is that a promise?" Enjolras asked. Grantaire looked up at him, she paled slightly.
"Um... I don't know," She stuttered. Enjolras was confused by her reaction. They stood there in awkward silence for a little while, Grantaire's music was playing "Once Upon A Dream," by Lana Del Rey. Grantaire suddenly jerked away towards another room. Enjolras followed her, curious. She was mumbling something to herself.
She speed walked to the stairs in the hall and took them, two steps at a time, up to the third floor. Then she walked down another hallway to another set of stairs and followed those up to the attic. Enjolras followed her.
Enjolras was winded by the time he got up to the top. Grantaire was breathing heavy but seemed focused on something else.
"I'll need a picture, a big one. Not quite as big as the canvas of course, but big enough to get the details big," She said, half to him half to herself. Quickly she poured herself a drink from a bottle of wine sitting on a box. Then she moved to the window and pulled the curtain to the side, she repeated this action with the two other windows.
"The light's good, if I need another light fixture, I can always ask Feuilly. He keeps some on hand when he's painting his fans," this time it was obvious to Enjolras that he was just something for Grantaire's voice to bounce off, "Of course, I'd need to allow time for eating and sleeping, but I can do that while the paint dries. I might want to take some extra time to- no I need to see what the picture is like before I- but it doesn't hurt to plan ahead- except that I- well actually I might not..." Finally Grantaire looked over at him.
"I need a picture before anything else," She said firmly. She moved past him, refilled her glass of wine and exited the attic. He frowned, while he'd been there, he'd seen her consume the equivalent of four glasses of wine.
He followed Grantaire down the three flights of stairs and into the sitting room. She sat and looked at him.
"Why did you come here in the first place?"
"Three things," Enjolras said, almost surprised she was asking, "Marius had borrowed a book of mine on the battle of Waterloo-"
"Oh I know where that is," Grantaire interrupted.
"Oh, good. Second was too ask you about the painting. I'd originally planned on asking Feuilly or a professional to do it but after talking to Feuilly, he said that you were slightly less busy than he, and that you were better. Third I wanted to ask Courfeyrac something. I didn't know he was out today," Enjolras explained. Grantaire took a drink of her wine before setting it down and getting up.
"I'll get your book."
"Well I didn't know whether he was done wi-"
"He is. He was actually telling me before he left this morning that he needed to get that back to you."
When she returned with it, Enjolras was looking through her sketchbook, she felt a sudden bit of panic.
"Um," She cleared her throat loudly, Enjolras looked up at her before looking back down at her sketchbook, "I brought you your, uh, your book."
"Thank you."
"Can I take a message for Courf?"
"Mm I was just going to ask him about the rally for this weekend."
"What's it about?"
"It's a rally for a little girl fighting a disease that's never really been investigated. We're rallying to raise awareness for the disease."
"Hmm," Grantaire hummed, bouncing nervously as Enjolras immediately went back to flipping through her sketches after explaining everything. She loved the look of passion he got when talking about the rally.
"Would you like a drink?" she asked.
"No thank you."
Grantaire quickly set his book in front of him on the coffee table and left the room, he was getting dangerously close to the sketch of him and she hoped that by her leaving, he would feel like he should too.
She checked her painting and added one last touch and her name at the bottom.
She went into the kitchen and poured herself a bit of scotch. She sat at the bar, thinking and drinking.
"Is this me?"
Grantaire turned to look and saw Enjolras pointing at the sketch she'd made at the meeting. It was of him, but dressed in Greek tunics, bow raised.
She nodded and took another sip of the scotch. Enjolras frowned at the scotch then looked back at the sketch.
"When did you do it?"
"After I met you, obviously," she said vaguely.
"It's... um, flattering."
"Yeah well, glad you're flattered by it," she muttered before taking another drink.
"Why do you drink so much?"
"Because I can."
"Why waste you're money on alcohol when you could use it to further good causes?"
"Because I find that I'm a lot better of a person when the terrible, ugly, human race around me, is blurred by the sweet, loving embrace of the bottle."
"The human race isn't ugly," Enjolras said, angrily.
"You're right," Grantaire said, standing up and downing the last bit of scotch, "It's not. It's cancer. Trying to live by killing everything good around it. It eats and feeds and kills and sickens the beautiful creation around because it wants to live. Because it's just superior enough that it can do it."
"That's a rather cruel way to view things," Enjolras said coldly.
"The universe is cruel. Humanity is cruel. Kudos to you if you can fix that," Grantaire bit out sharply. Enjolras set his jaw but shook his head.
"You mock my cause?" he suggested angrily.
"I don't mock your cause. I wouldn't dare. No I just choose to have a realistic realization of reality that you hold a rally in a public place to raise awareness for something and most people will just drive by and forget about it. Because that's what people do. They say, 'oh yeah, that's a good cause. I'm glad someone's doing something about it, I hope they do well,' but then they forget about it and it ends up all for naught," Grantaire ranted.
"That's why the Les Amis De ABC are here," Enjolras practically shouted, throwing his hands in the air, eyes flashing with passion, "Because people don't do anything about these good causes around them. Because they say, 'oh good I hope they do well' and forget. Because someone needs to remember. Because someone needs to try. If nobody tries than all you get is 'oh that's nice' and nothing comes from it," Enjolras started pacing back and forth, moving his hands and head as he talked. Grantaire watched in awe, "Because the truth of society is that if someone doesn't take initiative and start a good cause, nobody will. That's what our group is for, to take initiative with the goal of changing society. Because we believe that it's possible to change."
As his rant slowed down his conviction and passion didn't. Grantaire just gazed at him as if in a vision. Finally he was finished and he looked at her.
"What?"
"I can see why they follow you," She said slowly, "If I were a changeable woman, I would trust you to start that change."
"You may yet."
"Nah," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. Enjolras opened his mouth to reply when his phone went off. He pulled it out and read a message.
In that time Grantaire had poured herself another glass of wine. He looked back up at her and frowned.
"I have to go. Combeferre needs my help with something."
"It's all fine. The painting's not done drying yet. But I can have it delivered."
"Just bring it to the next meeting," Enjolras said walking out of the kitchen and into the Main hall. Grantaire followed him to the door.
"I'll get you that picture," he said as he was about out the door, "Good day mademoiselle."
"Monsieur," Grantaire said by way of good bye. He gave her a nod and left, closing the door on the way out.
Her dreams featured Apollo that night.