#granjolras

I suddenly really miss exR so I thought I’d sketch a lil something.

They don’t have trouble finding each other. By chance, or by instinct, they both end up in Paris at the same time this time. Everything else, however, takes a while. And apologies. And a paper hat.

Recognizing someone from a previous life proves more difficult than expected when you’re both not the same person as before. (OVERVIEW)

Enjolras was coiled up, his head resting in R’s lap, dizzily looking up to him. R had expected it to take at least two hours to convince him that he needed rest, but surprisingly he did not seem to mind at all.

Adrien was coiled up. R seriously needed to stop this.

Unfortunately,Adriendidn’t make the impression that he was about to let that topic go.
“Enjolras?”, he asked in a faint, but oviously determined, voice. R could tell from the way he puckered his lips.
R sighed. “It’s just a name that has been stuck in my brain like forever and spontaneously came to my mind.” And I regularly dream about getting shot next to someone of this name. Nothing to worry about, I’m fine.

Adrientried to recline on his ellbows, but failed, which seemed to bother him for a second, but then R could tell he was about to go all in.
He braced himself.

“So you wouldn’t agree if I suggested that we’ve met previously? If I also suggested that previously meant about two hundred years ago?”
“And by meeting”, R said, numbly, “you mean something like getting shot?”
“At a barricade, yes.”

A barricade…the word somehow seemed to fit. A barricade. Why on earth would he be on a barricade? And why was this the first question that came to his mind, instead of Is it possible you hit your well-formed head when you decided to faint?
He could answer both of them: Because he would believe in Enjolras, and because he knew immediately that it was true. In fact, he had known for a long time, but decided that it wasn’t something he wanted to spend his life thinking about.

“I think”, Adrien…oh whatever, R just liked to call him Enjolras, went on, “maybe, if your last thought in one life is something extremely…intense and…moving, you might remember it in the next one. Or something like that. I’ve spent so much time thinking about it, but it still makes me woozy.”
Suddenly sounding unsure of himself, he eyed the ceiling intensely.
R couldn’t help but smile a little. “So you’re saying you’re some sort of revolutionary spirit that is drawn to this world to fight all of its injustices?”
Enjolras glared back at him. “We’re not going back there, are we, Taire? You know very well that I refuse to believe that things cannot be changed. But this has nothing to do with this…stuff about…previous lives.” His voice trailed off again.

“So this is how you get yourself to learn the symptoms of glandular fever?” R couldn’t resist to tease him a little, maybe still a bit dizzy about the fact that he had just been called Taire, which felt right, even though he didn’t know where it came from. “You tell yourself that it’s a sacrifice you bring because the world will benefit greatly?
"It’s just a different approach this time”, Enjolras said huffily. “Also, if we consider the fact…or maybe better the impressionthat I remember three lives, maybe we can rule this revolutionary spirit thing out for this one.”
“Three?”, R said, taken aback, but quickly recovering. “Okay, how many times were you a girl? I can totally imagine you with long, fabulous hair and…”

There was the death glare once again.
R loved it.

“I think”, Adrien said in a dignified tone that left him again after the first two words, “that maybe I was…looking for you.”

There was a short silence, during which R could only look at Adrien’s face, at Enjolras’s face, feeling incredibly soft. He ran his fingers through his hair, smiling.
“Looking for me in order to pass on whatever disease you’ve been carrying around because you’re to stubborn to admit you’re sick, right?”
Enjolras frowned once again. “You’ve just ruined the moment.”
“I proved that a moment can’t be ruined when I’m with you”, he objected.
“WhenI’mwithyou.”
“Shut up, you sicko, or I’ll draw a two times two meter painting in your bedroom called The Leader In Red About To Throw Up.”
“I’m not sick”, Enjolras protested, “I just forgot to eat while I was studying.”
“Then why don’t you get up?”, R teased him.

Enjolras blushed slightly, biting his lower lip.

“You’re not very good at sign language”, R reminded him.
“You’re just oblivious”, he objected. “I just blushed, that’s enough of an answer. Why do I always have to be the one stammering about my feelings?”
“Because you’re horrendously bad at it, which is extraordinarily cute.”

Their fingers met, intertwining.

“This is just as vague as I was”, Enjolras protested, his voice suddenly a bit hoarse.
“Did your ability to argue in a precise manner suddenly desert you”, R replied mockingly. “Should I get you your notes for the speech you surely prepared a while ago?”

Enjolras interrupted him by reaching up, placing his hand gently around R’s neck, pulling his head down toward his own face.

“Do you permit it?”, he asked, just a breath away from R, his lips nearly brushing against his own.

Grantaire smiled and finally closed the distance between them.