Lams And Enjoltaire Oneshots

Take The Watch - Enjoltaire

Grantaire threw himself to the ground, exhausted and hopeless. He looked around the dull scene, not a smile in sight. All memories of summertime, as dead as their comrades. It felt as though all colour had drained from the scene, along with all hopes of freedom.

"Courfeyrac, you take the watch, they may attack before it's light. Everybody, keep the faith for certain as our banner flies. We are not alone, the people too must rise," Enjolras said from the top of the barricade in a desperate attempt to keep people hopeful. Marius threaded along the piled chairs that made up the barricade in a mindless wonder. "Marius, rest," Enjolras called. He nodded before sitting, an almost mournful expression on his face.

Feuilly stood up, bottle in hand, much to everyone's surprise.

"Drink with me to days gone by," He requested, handing a bottle of liquor to those around him "Sing with me the songs we knew."

"Here's to pretty girls who went to our heads," Jehan laughed as he raised his bottle to the dreary sky.

"Here's to witty girls who went to our beds," Joly smirked weakly, trying to find some memory of who he once was.

"Here's to them and here's to you." They said together mournfully.

"Drink with me!" Grantaire announced, standing from his dark corner. "-to days gone by."

"R-" Enjolras sighed, trying to signal to him to sit down. He promptly ignored him.

"Can it be you fear to die?! Will the world remember you when you fall?" He laughed an empty, forced laugh. "Could it be your death means nothing at all?" His questions were answered with chilling silence as happiness was again shot down.

"Is your life just one more lie?" He asked, softer, his gaze travelling around to all whose optimism blinded them. He scoffed, raising his bottle to the sky, before the glass touched his lips, the liquid courage pouring down his throat. His sip was the only sound that could be heard in the silence of les amis. He cleared his throat, before entering the cafe.

He slumped against the wall with a pained sigh. As death neared closer, the more his heart began to race at the thought of it. As he sunk to the floor, he closed his eyes, trying to block out talks of friendship and drinking that continued outside. Emotions swirled in his chest as though a balloon was inflating in his heart. Potential tears burnt his eyes as he poured more wine down his throat. His hands covered his face as tears threatened to show themselves.

He let out a shaky sigh, waiting for the pain to numb once more as he took another swig of wine. Though, at the sound of footsteps entering the room, he instinctively turned, shielding his face from the intruder.

"Go away," He growled, trying to hide the quiver in his voice under anger.

"Grantaire." The angelic voice of Enjolras floated through the space, causing Grantaire's eyes to shoot to him. He was taken aback at the sight of Apollo. He simply stared at the man's golden hair, his diamond eyes, the scruffiness the barricade had blessed him with. He was transfixed with the way his red jacket draped off his figure so seamlessly, how his shirt was covered in dirt. The realisation he was staring hit him like a bullet as he lowered his gaze to the man's feet in shame.

"What?" He hissed, cursing himself for showing even a moment of vulnerability in front of him. Silence again hissed in his ears.

"You're right," He sighed, taking a single step closer, causing Grantaire to further retreat into the wall.

"Right about what?" He asked softly, highly alert. Enjolras had never admitted he was right about anything.

"That our lives may be lost and nobody will care. That all this is just one more lie, that our lives don't count at all... you're right," He said, defeated. He fought back any visual signs of emotion, trying to maintain his cold, cool demeanour.