closed: 'you don't believe in anything.' 'i believe in you.'

[untamedantinous]

The past few days have been less than pleasant. Firstly, it seemed that winter had decided to take an extended stay here at the mansion: yes, he knew this place had odd seasons, but winter has never been one of his favorites, even at home. Enjolras has been uneasy, lately, spending most of his evenings holed up with Laertes and Sagramore in an effort to avoid nightmares.

Today, he is hoping that spending time with the one other person from Paris will do him good: and besides that, it has been some time since he has properly seen Grantaire. It would do to check in on him, he thinks. And so, he has gathered up books and his nearly ever-present notebook, intent on doing some writing as well. --As an afterthought, he grabs the unopened bottle of wine that Dionysus had given him, and proceeds to Grantaire's rooms, where he knocks at the door.

"Grantaire?"

Comments

[futaille]

"Oh, that would be lovely."

[untamedantinous]

"I cannot promise that it will be very good bread, but we must take what we can in this time."

[futaille]

"I wasn't expecting any such promise, so there is nothing to worry about on that score."

[untamedantinous]

"It will, at least, be better than the baguette," with a rueful smile. "I fear I am too impatient for that one."

[futaille]

"Eh, even the baguette was fine. And whatever you make will be better than what the house can make now, anyway."

[untamedantinous]

"Yes, I suppose so. It is easy enough, all you need to do is mix it up and leave it."

[futaille]

"I assume baking is involved at some point too."

[untamedantinous]

'Oh, yes, of course; but that is after you let it sit for a while."

[futaille]

He takes a drink of his wine. "Ah, I have more in common with bread than I thought!"

[untamedantinous]

He raises an eyebrow. “Indeed. I’m sure I could come up with something clever about fermenting, but I cannot think of it just now.”

[futaille]

"If you'd like, I'm happy to pretend you did. Would it be more 'sensible chuckle' clever or 'laughing uproariously' clever?"

[untamedantinous]

He just rolls his eyes a tad. "Neither, if you please."

[futaille]

He grins brightly. "As you wish, of course."

[untamedantinous]

"Of course." He takes a drink of his own wine and settles back in his chair. "How goes the --painting of rabbits?"

[futaille]

"It proceeds well enough. How goes the writing of not rabbits?"

[untamedantinous]

“It goes well. And, perhaps unsurprisingly, contains no rabbits whatsoever.”

[futaille]

"It would be quite the twist if your not rabbits writing actually did contain rabbits."

[untamedantinous]

"If you must know, it's a sort of memoir of Paris."

[futaille]

"Ah," he says. "Well, I do not recall many rabbits in Paris outside dinner plates, so their inclusion does seem unlikely." There's a slight pause. "If... if you would be amenable, I would like to read it when you're done."

[untamedantinous]

"Of course I would be. I would appreciate the proofreading." He offers a small, shy smile, and takes another sip of his wine.

[futaille]

"Yes, of course, I'll be as exacting as ever in my standards. Absolutely eviscerate every incorrect bit of punctuation." His tone of voice completely belies his words.

[untamedantinous]

"You certainly did a fine job with the sheet I made for the meeting." The words could easily turn sarcastic, but they do not.

[futaille]

He huffs out a little laugh. "Well that was the next best thing to a blank canvas I've ever seen."

[untamedantinous]

"--Thank you very much," he says drily.

[futaille]

He smiles brightly. "Happy to be of service."