(Hi guys! First of all, thank you for following and reviewing this story. Means a lot! Second of all, yes, I know… This has been a looooong time in coming. Well here it finally is! I hope it doesn't disappoint.)

Enjolras rolled over onto his stomach and placed the pillow he had been clutching over his head. He didn't know who Combeferre had invited just now, but he didn't care and he definitely didn't want to hear them talk. His head was hurting too much, his eyes burned and he was so, so tired. He wanted to be left alone. To be alone in his cocoon of a blanket without having to interact with the world.

A little voice inside his head chastised him. That voice was always present. Scolding him, mocking him, hating him. Ordering him to get his act together, to stop behaving like a little girl, to forget about Grantaire and move on. Enjolras knew it would be good if he listened to the voice. He knew that he needed to someday if he ever wanted to get his life going again. Sooner rather than later. But there was something there that blocked all rationality from his mind. Something he couldn't quite place or fathom. But it was always there. Eating away at him. Pain, grief, guilt and sorrow.

He had cried so much in the past week and a half. There wasn't a time in his life where he had ever shed so many tears. It was ridiculous and yet he couldn't help himself. They just kept coming. And the harder he tried to keep them at bay, the more viciously they came.

No matter what he did, Enjolras' mind was always on Grantaire. He couldn't stop replaying what happened. In his dreams, he was reliving it. During the day he kept going over it. He overanalyzed every detail of their fight. It was an obsession and it made him sick to his stomach. If you'd asked him two weeks ago, Enjolras would've never told you that he believed in broken hearts or shattered souls. But now, he was seriously doubting himself. He'd even considered asking Combeferre to take a scan of his chest just so that he could discover if everything was still whole and in place there. Because it sure as hell didn't feel like it.

There was a knock on the door and a soft voice calling out for him. Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut and choked out a frustrated sob. He loved Combeferre, he really did. But the past couple of weeks were just too much to deal with. He couldn't handle Combeferre's concerned looks and pressing questions. He couldn't handle his friend's gentle pushing and his attempts to take his mind of things. But the more he ignored Combeferre, the heavier his guilt weighed on his shoulders. It wasn't Combeferre's fault that what he and Grantaire had was ruined. Enjolras knew he shouldn't be frustrated with his friend. But he was. He couldn't help it. He was annoyed and frustrated with everyone, including himself and it was so exhausting. He just wanted to be left alone, sulk in his own misery.

Another knock. Little louder this time.

"Enjolras, can you please open the door? It's important…"

He didn't answer. He didn't care that it was important, he was in no mood to talk or listen to anyone and he didn't want to open his door. He wanted to just lie there in his bed and not think about anything or anyone.

"Enjolras… I'm honestly getting tired of your silent treatment. Please open this door now?"

He pressed his pillow a little tighter over his head in the hope to block out Combeferre's voice.

"Fine, be like that. I'm done with this. I'm done trying to be the patient one. I have a spare key anyway. I didn't want to do it this way, but if you want to act like a child, then so be it. Enough is enough."

It took a few seconds for Combeferre's words to sink in. But even when they did, Enjolras couldn't care enough to sit up and let his friends in like an adult. He just curled on his side, away from the door and moved a little deeper under the blankets.

"Leave me alone, 'Ferre. I'm not in the mood to talk to you," he muttered quietly when the lock turned and the door opened. "And I don't care what you have to say anyway."

Enjolras frowned when there wasn't an answer. There was clearly someone else with him in the room, he could hear someone breathing and there was definitely the sound of feet shuffling. Was Combeferre just going to stand there and wait until Enjolras made the first move? Well then he could wait a long time. No one could outshine Enjolras in stubbornness.

It was quiet for a few long minutes. Tension growing by the second. Then there was the hesitant scraping of a throat and a deep shuddering breath.

"E-Enjolras?"

That voice. He had not expected to hear that voice. His heart instantly dropped down to his knees, yet it started beating very loudly in his throat at the same time, constricting his airway. He threw away the blankets and pillow in one fluid motion and found himself face to face with the one person he really didn't want to see ever again. When his eyes locked with those deep green ones of Grantaire, he could feel his heart break all over again.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

TBC

(Hope it was kind of okay… Please let me know what you think? Thanks!)