Grantaire’s skin has gone cold. It’s smooth and cold and not at all like him. It’s pale and waxen and his curls are flat and his lips are thin and white. His eyes are open and he’s not breathing because that’s what people do when they die.
(But Grantaire doesn’t lie to him, and he’ll be right back,rightback, just in a moment and—)
The tears don’t come with any fanfare. They’re not introduced by sobs or shortness of breath. They come and they fall and they keeping falling andshitno they won’tstop—
(“One of these days, you’re going to cry during the Pianist and I’m going to wipe away all the snot and tears and spit and you’re going to be just as beautiful as ever.”
“I think you may have just sickened me.”)
Enjolras brushes Grantaire’s hair away from his forehead.
He won’t be able to see when he gets back unless he does. ( X )
yeah because situational irony feels