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]

"So very self-assured, the young mademoiselle is."

[untamedantinous]

“She is a sweet thing.” Enjolras would pick her up if his hands weren’t full of cat related items. Thankfully his rooms aren’t too far away.

[futaille]

"Very friendly. I'm glad she took to you."

[untamedantinous]

"Took to my clothes, more like."

[futaille]

"Well, they are very nice clothes."

[untamedantinous]

"Not really, they're -- serviceable, I suppose."

[futaille]

"And clearly comfortable for a cat, which adds to their value."

[untamedantinous]

"I suppose. She may have them, if she likes."

[futaille]

"Well, had I known it was as easy as falling asleep on them..."

[untamedantinous]

He rolls his eyes. “They would not fit you.” That is not what Grantaire meant. He is aware; but unwilling to play along for now.

[futaille]

"They would certainly fit me better than they would the young mademoiselle. They lack an opening for her tail, you see."

[untamedantinous]

"Ah, yes, that is clearly the only difference between us."

[futaille]

"Well, it's the primary one, at least. I have yet to hear her real attempts at speechcraft, so I don't know yet whether that's another."

[untamedantinous]

Charlotte helpfully honks at Grantaire again and butts up against his leg. "Well, there you are, then."

[futaille]

He stoops to scratch between her ears. "Excellent point well-made, mademoiselle. By all means elaborate."

[untamedantinous]

She makes a pleased little purry noise and shoves her head up under his hand.

[futaille]

This obviously requires more scratches. "Truly, I am ready to follow her every command."

[untamedantinous]

"Well, I have been already informed that Szarka is the princess of the mansion. Charlotte shall have to pick another title."

[futaille]

"Why, citoyenne, of course."

[untamedantinous]

"Ah! Of course, how could I have been so remiss. Citoyenne Charlotte it is, then."

[futaille]

"Quite fitting, I would say. Has a delightful sound to it."

[untamedantinous]

"Indeed." He grins and kisses Grantaire's cheek lightly.

[futaille]

He smiles and ducks his head a bit. "After all, if she had pretensions toward nobility, she hardly would have chosen you, I would think."

[untamedantinous]

"Yes, she is a cat of the people."

[futaille]

"A pity the collar you found was only one color instead of three."