He arranges his shoulders at that, a bit like a cat who is grooming themselves back to their natural state after some unwanted touch. Still uncertain ground, it’s true, but at least he has a raft to stand on now instead of drowning.

“I don’t know,” Enjolras replies, and it rings as true as anything he’s ever said on the barricades. He really doesn’t, he can’t —or chooses not to —comprehend what passed at the barricades just yet, excepting that it was not at all what he had expected from Grantaire. “He has surprised me in more ways than one.”