deux: it must be done

[untamedantinous]

Enjolras has not held a musket since the barricades. However, there's no time like the present. Through trial and error and various annoyed thoughts directed to the closet in his rooms, he has found one that will suffice. It feels ...strange, to have one in his hands again, to know that not so long ago he had held one and killed more than once with it. But he is pushing aside any lingering apprehensions he may have and heading outside to the shooting range some helpful person had set up in the recent past. Perhaps no one will bother him here, he hopes, it is fairly far afield; and the whole purpose he has will make it difficult to have any conversations.

The slight tension in his shoulders may belie his earlier anxiety, but it has not affected his aim as of yet. Should anyone follow the sounds of gunfire, they will find Enjolras as well, loading, firing, and reloading his musket with some determination.

Comments

[futaille]

Grantaire hears the sound of musketfire from some distance away and something draws him inexorably toward it. He follows the sound with a bottle in hand, and as he approaches, he huffs a bit to himself as he ascertains the source.

He doesn't particularly want to intrude or interrupt, but neither does he want to leave, so instead he sits on the ground several yards behind Enjolras and just watches contemplatively.

[untamedantinous]

At some point, Enjolras turns and bends to get something, catching sight of Grantaire. It's very faint, imperceptible if you haven't spent the greater part of five years watching him, but the tension in his shoulders is getting slightly higher.

However, Grantaire doesn't seem to want to say anything, which is perfectly fine for Enjolras. He gives the other man a look for a moment, long, cautious, but turns back to his firing without a word.

[futaille]

For someone who has spent the greater part of five years watching Enjolras, though, it's a glowing beacon. A solar flare, if you will. He frowns absently at the signs of tension but says nothing. He knows deep down that anything he could say would resonate quite differently outdoors, and without another eight people to completely change the acoustics.

So he continues to watch, also without a word.