quatre: they will put away the sword

[untamedantinous]

There are a number of kitchens to be found in the mansion, as most people know. Enjolras is in one of them, flour speckling his flannel shirt and black jeans. There is a recipe book open on the counter near him, open to a page on baguettes. The young man in question is currently absorbed in kneading some dough: once again, something new to concentrate on. (Yes, he had known that Combeferre and Courfeyrac were only here for a day, but that does not really make it much better.) So, inspired by Laertes -- and, perhaps, the underwhelming boeuf bourguignon the mansion had provided the other day -- he is attempting a French classic. Perhaps a homemade baguette will taste better than mansion-provided food.

Comments

[untamedantinous]

"No, of course not, though I am astounded I haven't bored you yet." Throughout their conversation, he has been dutifully turning dough out and covering it at certain points, and by now they're on their way to the second rise.

[futaille]

He laughs and polishes off his drink, tossing the empty bottle in a nearby trash can. "I cannot even imagine you doing anything to bore me."

[untamedantinous]

"Not even sleeping?" with some amusement.

[futaille]

He stops dead, contemplating a sleeping Enjolras for a moment. "You know, I think I would manage to avoid boredom."

[untamedantinous]

"Mm. I cannot imagine how." --The thing is, he truly can't.

[futaille]

He huffs out a little laugh. "Perhaps I'm simply easily entertained." He hops off the counter and back to the fridge to grab another beer.

[untamedantinous]

"....I suppose I should not contradict someone who is an expert in entertainments, self-styled though it may be," he says teasingly, and returns to take a sip of his coffee.

[futaille]

"Oh, you may contradict me all you like. It wouldn't make me less correct." He returns to his seat on the counter and gives Enjolras a wry smile.

[untamedantinous]

"I suppose not." He shrugs and continues sipping at his coffee.

[futaille]

"Well, if you should ever like to test it," he says airily, "do let me know."

[untamedantinous]

"What am I being meant to test?"

[futaille]

He waves a hand absently. "Don't worry about it."

[untamedantinous]

He looks a little dubious, but nods. "Very well."

[futaille]

"So yes, you are not boring." He looks over at the rising dough. "But the bread is. You are truly lucky I am here, or you may have fallen asleep just from this waiting."

[untamedantinous]

“I had brought a book. Or if you had not shown up, I would have set a timer and gone to find Temeraire.”

[futaille]

"Between the two, I would have recommended the book." He grins. "Not because of a dislike for the dragon, but because I think your conversation would have made you forget to heed your timer."

[untamedantinous]

“It would depend on the conversation, I think. I have been reading him Rousseau, lately.”

[futaille]

Grantaire laughs, delighted. "Of course you've been reading him Rousseau. What else would a dragon need but the Social Contract?"

[untamedantinous]

"He does enjoy it, he's quite a philosophical fellow."

[futaille]

"And therefore Rousseau. It makes complete sense."

[untamedantinous]

"That's what I thought, yes."

[futaille]

"And I return to my previous point. You would absolutely forget your timer, dulled as it would be by the raucous delight of philosophy."

[untamedantinous]

"--Very well, you are probably right."

[futaille]

"Precisely. So you're lucky I'm here."

[untamedantinous]

“I do not recall saying I wasn’t.”