open: voici un chat dans le café

[untamedantinous]

It is finally spring. Finally warm enough for Enjolras to head outside and read to Temeraire without the extra heavy layer of a coat. He is intent on doing that, in fact, searching for their latest philosophical treatise amongst his piles of papers on his table. He is also searching for his notebook, planning on continuing some writing while he's outside and making a day of it. (Ballpoint pens are very convenient for that.) Enjolras has nearly found it when he is distracted by some shuffling coming from -- of all places, his closet.

After a moment's hesitation, he peers inside the piece of furniture to find two greeny-golden eyes staring back at him. "Oh," he says, with some uncertainty. "Hello."

____________________________

A good half hour later, Enjolras has made his apologies to Temeraire and can be found in the café, with his new friend curled up on his discarded coat on a chair nearby him. Enjolras is absently stroking her from time to time, engrossed in a book he at last found under his papers.

Comments

[futaille]

Grantaire walks into the café, much like usual. He sees Enjolras first of course and immediately starts speaking. "Good morning! I am at a complete loss about what to--" He stops still. "Wait. Who is this?"

[untamedantinous]

"This is Charlotte," Enjolras says solemnly. "She was on my coats." The lady in question looks up at the new arrival and rubs at her ear with a paw. She will reserve judgement for now.

[futaille]

He shoots Enjolras a somewhat incisive look. "Corday?" He returns his attention to Charlotte herself, then, and approaches but keeps a comfortable enough distance, crouching to be more level with her. "Hello, mademoiselle. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

[untamedantinous]

He nods, and scritches Charlotte behind the ears delicately. "That is her surname, yes," he says, with a small glimmer of humor hidden in his voice. For her part, Charlotte once again stares at Grantaire, and then lets out a quiet honk of greeting.

[futaille]

"Charlotte charmante, I see." He calmly extends the back of his hand for her perusal.

[mothwingofriverclan]

Mothwing's been busy taking care of Qi Yan lately, which has been a time-consuming but honestly restorative activity. Still, she's starting to feel a little like a six moon old kit in the nursery, all cooped up, so she sets off to see if anyone wants to chat.

She's shocked by the smell of a cat coming from the cafe, and a she-cat at that--decidedly not Angus. She trots inside and sits a few respectable tail-lengths away from the new arrival.

"Hello! I'm Mothwing," she greets the cat, then realizes there's a twoleg sitting beside her. Enjolras, she thinks. "Hello to you as well."

[untamedantinous]

Charlotte sniffs it for a moment, then butts her head up against it for attention.

[futaille]

He promptly scratches her head between and behind her ears. "Such a delightful young lady." He glances very briefly at Enjolras. "Did you meet the latest non-feline arrival?"

[untamedantinous]

Charlotte regards her with some curiosity, twitching her tail. "Hello," she offers, making no move to rise from her pleasantly curled-up position on Enjolras' coat. "I'm Charlotte. Or at least that is what he calls me, and he smells kind." Enjolras blinks a bit at Mothwing, and nods.

"Hello, Mothwing. Would you like something to eat?"

[mothwingofriverclan]

"Nice to meet you, Charlotte," Mothwing meows. "So, you're thinking of being his kittypet?" She points her tail at Enjolras. "He's generous, at least. Yes, I'll take some food."

[untamedantinous]

“I’ve seen him in the cafe; I am aware of who he is.” He shrugs a little and pets Charlotte again, who starts purring at all the attention. She clearly deserves it.

“He is nothing like me; I don’t see why you gave me that nickname anyhow.”

[futaille]

"He is nothing like you. It was rather unsettling at first."

[untamedantinous]

“Well, is Dionysus anything like you expected the god of wine to be?” —To be fair, Dionysus is pretty much acting like he should be, in Enjolras’ opinion; but he is still mildly annoyed about being compared to Apollo in the first place.

[untamedantinous]

“Yes,” Charlotte says, an echo of Enjolras’ earlier solemnity. “His dark room is very comfortable as well, he needs someone to mind him.”

Enjolras gives Mothwing a nod and goes to the counter to find both cats a bit of meat, chopped up small for easier access.

[futaille]

"Dionysus? Oh, absolutely. Only more so." He keeps giving Charlotte scritches. "I think I did Apollo a disservice, though."

[untamedantinous]

“Oh? Do you like him better than me?” He sounds amused, lifting his brows in a small smirk.

[futaille]

"He's certainly impressive in his own way, but I much prefer you."

[untamedantinous]

“Thank you.” He stretches to give Grantaire a brief kiss on the cheek. “What was the disservice you did him?”

[futaille]

He ducks his head a bit. "It was ages ago. When I saddled him in my head with a comparison he could never hope to live up to."

[untamedantinous]

Oh —well, if he ever wanted to see Enjolras turn as crimson as the vest he wears in a certain musical; that sentence alone would do it. “That is not fair,” he says, laughing a little. “How am I meant to respond to that?”

[futaille]

"Oh, it's simple enough. Just immediately change the subject and hope you can get away with it. It works well enough for me¹."

¹Works less well here, but details.

[untamedantinous]

"Very well." There's a beat. "In the interest of changing the subject, I have been thinking. Well -- thinking and being asked questions, at the party. Am I correct in assuming you would wish to, ah, have a relationship with me?" --Yep. He's still bright red. So much for hoping to save himself from embarrassment.

[futaille]

Oh. Yes. Galahad. Of course. "... That would be an incredibly safe assumption."

[untamedantinous]

"I thought as much." He clears his throat a little, and distracts himself with petting Charlotte for a moment or two. "I mean to say: I would like that, as well."

[futaille]

For all he means to at least attempt to keep an even somewhat neutral expression, there's no chance of that with the smile that instantaneously sprouts on his face.

"I would take your hand, but I do not want to deprive the young lady of her well-deserved pets."