Enjolras wakes up the next morning and the first thing that he sees is Grantaire holding a booklet of some sort close to his face. Enjolras blinks several times in the attempt to wake himself up more, just so he can actually understand what is going on. He can’t tell if Grantaire is holding an eviction notice or an essay that he wants him to look over.
Enjolras reaches over to the make shift bedroom table that is just a pile of books and pulls and shoves his glasses on his face to see more clearly, he grabs the booklet off Grantaire and he gratefully takes the cup of coffee that Grantaire passes him and takes a large sip form it in the attempt to wake himself up.
“What is this?” Enjolras asks once he has finished off his coffee. The booklet in his hand is rather thick and it is all hand written, in surprisingly neat handwriting. He looks over at Grantaire’s hands and sees that they are covered in black ink. There is smudges of ink underneath Grantaire’s eyes and on the bridge of his nose, that must have been caused when Grantaire was writing the book. Enjolras looks on the cover and the words Roommate Agreement are written in the front, in slanted handwriting that looks rather professional compared to the rest of the book, where the writing seems to change style and size throughout it.
“I thought that you would like to have a set of rules, so we don’t bash heads.” Grantaire shrugs as he sits on the bottom of Enjolras’s’ bed with a cup of coffee clutched into his hands as if it is his life line. He takes a large sip of coffee, that is so strong that Enjolras can smell it. “I would like us to have a good time being roommates.”
Enjolras nods in reply and murmurs something along the same lines as what Grantaire says as he looks at the list of rules and agreement. The list included things like meal times, who does the shopping and just the general rules of things such as Grantaire’s routine, having friends around. However some of the rules made Enjolras raise his eyebrows a few times. Especially since there was a category of rules that came under nudity. Enjolras briefly wondered if his roommate wasn’t a university student, but he was a nudist. Not that nudist couldn’t go to university, but Enjolras wondered that it would be a bit cold sitting in the lecture halls for several hours without any clothes on.
Some of the rules included:
Nudity: You have the right to get naked, but if you choose to do so, you must wait until the other roomie is out of the apartment and the doors and the curtains must be closed, as to keep ones dignity is a greater goal to keep in life rather than climb a window. While the other party is in the apartment, the minim clothing you can wear is boxer shorts or a dressing gown that is tied tightly closed. If the door is closed and you have been out of the apartment, please knock before you come in, as the person inside might be naked. Unless you are told that you can come in, please wait the sufficient time for someone to put on a pair of boxer shorts before you enter the room to avoid embarrassment for both parties.
Because I am an art major, I will be required to bring some of my course work home to complete. I will be using Wednesday nights to get my art work done, and this will include a mixture of painting, drawing and making models out of various objects. If I am required to use other materials that could cause a smell or mess, I will let you know in advance. I will need to get my work done in the apartment with little distractions, and I ask the other party If they can spend time outside the apartment for at least several hours out of the apartment after classes, so that I can complete my work. I will be working mainly in the living area and the kitchen, so if you desire to spend time in the bedroom, you may as long as you keep music quiet and don’t bother me. Any other day of the week, I will happily leave the apartment for you to complete your work as long as I can have Wednesdays to do my work. I will clean up any messes that I make.
Sundays is the time when Me and my friends will go and have breakfast in my apartment in the morning and we will be having an air band battle most weeks. Because you are a roommate of mine, you are permitted to join in and have breakfast with us. I will do the cooking, and if you can help clean up and be the base guitarist to the air band, you can be a part of the breakfast club.
Enjolras only skimmed the rest of the booklet as it was mostly the boring things. The agreement that was given to him was rather reasonable and was slightly more normal than what he was expecting, even though the part about the air band and the part about nudity was eyebrow raising. But other than those parts, the agreement was fairly normal. To be honest, he had more strict rules with his parents when he stayed with them and Grantaire’s roommate agreement meant that he could have friends around and be able to get work done without being disturbed.
“So what do you think of it?” Grantaire asks as he fiddles with the loose hem that is on his jumper. “If you have any more rules, you can just put them in. Those are just for me, but you are open to putting more in if you want to.”
“I think that it is reasonable and I agree to it all.” Enjolras says as he skims the main terms and conditions of the roommate agreement once more, just to make sure he hadn’t missed out any small print. “The only thing that I can think about adding to it is if I have friends around, we tend to do political work. You are welcome to join us?” Enjolras asks, leaving his statement open so that Grantaire can jump and say that he has the desire or not to join.
“I think that I might come in at a later time.” Grantaire says as he throws Enjolras a pen. “But what you do with your friends is your business and not mine.” Grantaire shrugs, failing to cover up his yawn as he waits for the booklet to get handed to him.
Enjolras knows that when someone says that when they say ‘I might come in at a later time,’ actually means that someone is never going to come and they are just being polite as saying no can be a bit harsh. Enjolras only shrugs, maybe he can get Grantaire to sign a few petitions when the time comes. Besides he is in university now and he can pester all the people who go there to sign a few petitions when he needs to .
“I think that I may go to bed.” Grantaire says as he stands up, swaying on his feet slightly as he takes the roommate agreement is signed . “I couldn’t sleep during the night and I thought that writing that would help me get to sleep. I was out with Bahorel last night and we had an incident with a tennis ball.”
“I am planning to see some friends, so you don’t need to worry about me being too loud.” Enjolras says as he makes his way out of bed, deciding to ignore and not ask about a tennis ball incident, as to be honest, Grantaire looks as if he is not capable of human speech anymore. He looks at his alarm clock and he realises that it is only seven in the morning and it is earlier than he usually gets up, but he can just leave now and head over to Combeferre’s apartment in time for breakfast. It is only Saturday and Combeferre will be making bacon, as it is a very Combeferre thing to have breakfast plan for the week. It is beneficial to Enjolras, as he knows what days he should be going over to breakfast. Mondays he never go around to as that is when Combeferre has oatmeal and he hates it with a passion.
Before he leaves the apartment, and Enjolras looks at Grantaire who is about to head off to bed and he had already removed his shirt and thrown I onto the armchair. “Taire, I will make sure I knock before I come in, if the door is shut.” He calls over as Grantaire goes into his room.
Grantaire looks at him with a smile on his face. “Thank you for agreeing to the rules.” He says as he goes into his room.
Enjolras only shakes his head in almost amusement as he leaves the apartment, as he considers that maybe that having a roommate will be easier than he thought, and you just need to follow some rules to get along. Enjolras wondered why on television they made having a roommate something that you dreaded having, as so far, Enjolras was positive that he was doing rather well with one.
“You must have smelt the bacon.” Combeferre groans as soon as he opens up the door, to reveal Enjolras who despite his rather short journey to the other side of the campus, has worked up a bit of a hunger.
“Well hello to you too,” Enjolras replies as he goes underneath Combeferre’s outstretched arm that is holding the door open, before Combeferre can only say anything. It is only ten in the morning and Combeferre just looks as if he has just rolled out of his bed with his glasses askew on his face, hair messed up almost to Courfeyrac standards and he is still wearing his pyjamas, that are the rather embarrassing ones with rabbits on them that Combeferre’s grandmother bought for him one year for Christmas. Combeferre thinks that they are the most hideous things in the world and he only will wear them when the clothes that he has labelled as his ‘Ones that I am allowed to interact with members of society with,’ are all in the wash basket and Combeferre has to settle for his not so favourite items of clothing while he washes the rest of his clothes.
“I do love the pyjamas.” Enjolras says as he throws himself on to the sofa. “I didn’t know that you liked rabbits though.”
“I bloody hate them,” Combeferre grumbles as he closes the door and plunks himself onto the sofa next to Enjolras, resting his head against the headrest. “Doesn’t help that I have allergies.”
“Is everything okay?” Enjolras asks as he looks over from the cartoon that was playing on the TV to Combeferre, who just looks tired and it is starting to worry Enjolras as he rarely sees Combeferre actually being less than cheerful.
“Just tried.” Combeferre mutters as he tries his best to cover a yawn. But despite his best efforts in trying to hide it, it still comes out and it is comically high pitched and it sounds like Combeferre is trying to do his best impression of a cat. Even though Enjolras is slightly concerned about Combeferre, he can’t hide the laugh and the smirk that he produces, and it doesn’t stop when Combeferre does his best Combglare at him, as to be honest, it is difficult to take someone seriously once they have made a noise that resembles a cat that has inhaled some helium.
“Did you get a new book?” Enjolras asks.
“Unfortuanly not.” Combeferre sighs, he stands up and makes sure that all the door in his apartment are locked before he places a hand over his mouth if he needs to hide what he needs to say. “It’s my roommate.” He says in a low voice.
“What is wrong with him?”
“All he ever does is sleep and eat, and he is just so loud.” Combeferre replies. “He had friends over last night and they broke the microwave.”
“How did they do that?”
“They had been drinking and they found a tennis ball and set it on fire and played, ’Extreme Catch- fire edition.” Combeferre grumbled. “They asked me if I wanted to play after the tennis ball had smashed the microwave.”
“It can’t get much wor-“
Combeferre cuts him off sharply with a hand placed over his mouth. “Don’t you dare finish off that sentence. “ Combeferre snaps before he removes his hand and he sinks back onto the sofa looking rather defeated. “You are going to jinx it and they are going to set a bowling ball on fire and smash the TV. It is going to happen. I know it will.”
Enjolras sat in silence for a few minutes and thanked to what force who was listening to him, let that be a god or batman, for giving him a roommate who just seemed to have an allergy to keeping their clothes on and had a tendency to make mess. But compared to Combeferre’s roommate, Grantaire was a blessing in disguise who even had the courtesy to make a roommate agreement. It was moments like these that Enjolras realised how terribly lucky that he was.
“How about I go and make us some breakfast, and then you can go to bed?” Enjolras asks giving Combeferre’s shoulder a squeeze. “As I think that you could use some sleep and some bacon.”
“Have I ever told you that you are a great friend?” Combeferre asks with a small smile on his face, that doesn’t last long as a yawn cuts through it.
“I think that you must be tired if you are being this sentimental.” Enjolras chuckles as he makes his way into the kitchen, quickly locating the packet of bacon within the fridge that is littered with empty packets of food. This must be from the roommate, Enjolras thinks as he closes the fridge, actually struggling with it with the amount of empty packets that are crammed in there. Enjolras isn’t too sure if Combeferre only has one roommate, or he is living with a family of ten , as it seems impossible for someone to have eaten this much food in the time that they have been in the dorms.
“Is that bacon?” Someone shouts as Enjolras puts the first pieces of bacon on the plate. Enjolras turns around and he is greeted with the shock of seeing a rather tall man who could easily be close enough to seven foot with dreads and a gold tooth standing right in front of him. What could be more intimidating about the man with dreadlocks was the fact that he was wearing a pair of footy pyjamas. He is looking tired and hangover, and Enjolras could notice a burn mark on his hand that must have been from the tennis ball that was on fire.
Before Enjolras can answer or even put the last piece of meat on the plate that he was going to give to Combeferre, just so that he can get some sleep as soon as possible, the plate is snatched away from him and the bacon is gone instantly within a blink on an eye.
“Enjolras, this is my roommate.” Combeferre sighs from the sofa, with forced politeness. “Bahorel, I take it that you slept pleasantly this morning.” Since he has been friends with Combeferre ever since they were in nappies, Enjolras can tell when Combeferre is wanting to say something that he knows that he shouldn’t say. Most of the time, Combeferre is rather blunt and he just says what is on his mind, and it is something that Enjolras does admire about his best friend. But when Combeferre wants to say something, but he knows that there will be a consequence to his words or he is in front of a wrong audience, he won’t say it but he wants to so desperately, he will make sure that he is being extra polite just so that the other person can’t tell how much they have pissed him off. Most people do believe that Combeferre is a pleasant and polite person, but the people who believe that, do not know him that well as if you know that Combeferre is a master of sass and snark underneath his glasses and politeness. Because he knows Combeferre the best, Enjolras gets to see the sass whenever he wants basically. Even when it is directed towards him, Enjolras still enjoys Combeferre being the master of snark, mostly as when he says a comment, it usually leaves everyone else in the room speeches as the most polite person that they know, secret identity is Captain sass underneath the disguise of Politely politerson.
“Why is the microwave broken?” Bahorel asks through a mouthful of bacon. Enjolras has made the mistake of standing too close to Bahorel but he doesn’t realise it, until it is too late and Bahorel has sprayed bacon crumbs on his face. Bahorel goes over to the microwave and he looks at the shattered door and gives out a low whistle.
“Do you seriously not remember?” Combeferre asks with a tone of confusion and one of wondering if his roommate is completely stupid, as he reaches underneath the sofa and pulls out a tennis ball that is almost completely black and he throws it into Bahorel’s direction. Bahorel manages to catch it in one hand, but as soon as the ball hits his hand it starts to designate and it forces a black cloud of soot to come out of it.
“Judging by the fact that I am slightly hangover, I think that I must have been drinking last night.” Bahorel says quietly.
“You are rather clever you know that.” Combeferre said with his best glare that he could muster, but it had considerably less effect than it usually had.
“Combeferre be nice.” Enjolras says as he passes over Combeferre his plate. “Eat this and go to bed.” Enjolras is suddenly taken back by the fact that he is the one who is nagging Combeferre to eat and sleep, as normally it is Combeferre’s role to do it for him. It almost scares him that it is possible for him to be domestic, as to be honest, he had never imagined to be a person who would care about an others wellbeing. Not that he doesn’t care about his friends and how they are doing, as it is a bit hypocritical for him to do so, especially when it is near exam times and he can’t really tell Courfeyrac to take a break and eat something, when he has resorted to eating instant coffee with a spoon to keep himself awake and he hasn’t showered in god knows when.
“Thank you I guess.” Bahorel says sounding slightly taken back.
“Never mind him.” Enjolras says as he shoots Bahorel his best comforting look. “He is rarely this snappy, but I should warn you for exam times. I would advise you to stay out of your apartment as much as possible.” Enjolras says with a shudders as he remembers the times that he had stayed over at Combeferre’s house during their final exams during high school when his own parents were in Ireland. It was a slightly traumatic time for Enjolras as he had spent the time mostly in fear during each waking hour that Combeferre was awake for, mostly as the quiet and gentle giant that Combeferre was normally had completely hulked out during the exam period and he would frequently go mental and rage at even the slightest creak of a floor board or the consistent tapping of the apple tree branch against his bedroom window due to the high winds on the farm. Enjolras was rarely scared of anyone or anything and it was a quality that he took pride of, but he was scared shitless when Combeferre had threatened to shove the pencil that Enjolras was tapping up his nostril if he didn’t stop. Enjolras did immediately stop doing that as to be honest, death by pencil is not exactly a good way to die by.
“But he looks so nice.” Bahorel whispered. “He wears jumpers and has the books and the glasses. He looks like a nerd, no offence to your friend.”
“It is the nice ones you have to look out for,” Enjolras replied. “Compared to me, he is the nice one.”
“Remind me not too piss you off too much then.” Bahorel says and then he continues to eat, avoiding any conversation that Enjolras tries to bring up shooting Enjolras’s attempts of conversation with monosyllabic answers . Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring up a conversation with someone who is more focused on eating bacon then having a human conversation. Enjolras doesn’t even make the attempt to speak to Combeferre, as he just wants his friend to get some sleep while he is willing to do so, as he knows that Combeferre is basically going to be attached to a IV drip of coffee for the rest of the year.
Once Combeferre decides that he is going off to bed, Enjolras soon takes his leave, mostly as he thinks that is quite strange to stay in your best friend’s apartment and hang out with his roommate that he seems to dislike and who is more focused on eating bacon. It is probably in the rule book for times that you should leave someone’s apartment without being asked to leave or have been given the subtle hints that you should piss off, such as ‘I should get dinner on?’ ‘Is that the time already,’ or ‘I need to wash my hair,’ and those are just the nice simple ones. As he leaves Combeferre’s and Bahorel’s apartment, he gives them a final wave and calls goodbye that only results in two grunts coming from both residents from the apartment.
As he left, Enjolras decided that his goal for the year would to be to make some friends who had the tendency to speak in words of more than one syllable, as he would like to have some good conversations this year that didn’t require him to learn the language of grunts as he should be focusing on his studies.
After walking around hopelessly around the campus having to idea what to do, as he didn’t really know anyone e and the people who he knew already plans. Well he could hang out with Courfeyrac but his dorky friend Marco would be there with him and Cosette, and Enjolras assumed that Marius was still a bit annoyed with him from the time in the office, judging by the way that when Maurice saw him in the campus, he said something to him in German that Enjolras was positive that it was the word for bastard. Maybe it was the sign that he should actually apologise and make the peace with him as he is positive that Courfeyrac would be on his ass if he didn’t even learn Malcom’s name. Enjolras had no clue what he should do, well he could open up his text books at start to study before even his classes had even started, but it was just sad even for someone who was rather studious. The only thing that Enjolras could think about doing was go back to his apartment and just watch cat videos on the internet as it was the most productive thing that he could think about doing.
Just as Enjolras walks into his apartment, he stops himself just as he is about to enter the appartment, remembering to follow the agreement and knock on the door.
“It is fine dude, I’m not naked.” Grantaire’s voice comes from the other side of the door sounding slightly muffled.
With a sigh of relief, Enjolras makes his way into the apartment and throws his bag onto the table, that is already been covered with a pile of books and art supplies, making sure to avoid the oil paints as he is positive that Grantaire is going to kill him if he throws his bag on top of them and spill them onto the table as they look rather expensive and Enjolras is positive that he is not going to be able afford them and he would rather be able to afford food for the rest of the year .
Grantaire is sitting on the sofa, well not unless you count sitting on a chair lying upside down on the sofa and making a mess out of the whole thing. He is eating a bowl of popcorn and he seems to be getting more popcorn on the ground than in his mouth. “Been doing much?” He asks.
“Not really,” Enjolras shrugs as he sits on a beanbag chair. “Just went to see Combeferre and we ate some bacon. He told me how he had his microwave broken as his roommate threw a tennis ball at it last night.”
Grantaire sits up on the sofa and knocks the popcorn over. “I knew that game was a bad idea, Bahorel didn’t listen to me and look what happened. Is that guy with the glasses pissed?”
“You broke my best friend’s microwave.” Enjolras replies slowly.
“Well it was Bahorel’s idea to play that game.” Grantaire replies putting his hands out toward him in defence. “There was no good cartoons on the TV and The Great British Bake Off wasn’t on.”
“Combeferre is going to have to go without microwave food until he gets a new microwave.” Enjolras replies. “You know how much a microwave is to a student?” Enjolras asks waving his hands about as if he is trying to swat away an imaginary swarm of flies. “It is everything to a student, as they don’t have the time to cook and he is a med student!”
“I’m sorry?” Grantaire says.
“Is that all you can say? My best friend is going have to go without having to eat microwave popcorn.”
“To be honest, I haven’t been in a situation like this before.” Grantaire shrugs. “I can invite him to Joy and Bossuet’s for soup and game night and I can apologise to him.”
“Fine, but you are going to help buy him a microwave.” Enjolras sighs knowing that it is probably the best that he is going to get from Grantaire, and from just his overall impression of Bahorel, it is probably the best that he is going to get from him as well. “A new one, and not used.”
“Well don’t you want a lot .” Grantaire replies with a sneer.
Enjolras gets up to his feet and folds his arms across his chest, glaring at Grantaire with as much furry that he can muster at once, without the use of a book like the Twilight series to ignite the fires of hatred that Enjolras has inside of him. “Well you played a game that involved a tennis ball on fire and damaged someone’s property who you don’t even know. I think that giving them a new microwave isn’t too much of a request.”
“Why are you getting so upset about it?” Grantaire exclaims. “It is not your microwave; it is one of your friends and I don’t think that you are going to go around to their apartment and regularly use their microwave.”
“It is because I am a good person.” Enjolras exclaims throwing his arms in the air. “I care about the people who are being oppressed in this world.”
“So your friend is oppressed because he doesn’t have a microwave?” Grantaire asks slowly. “That is the most stupid thing that I have ever heard. You know Enjolras, buying someone a microwave isn’t going to stop someone being oppressed.”
“Well it is a start.” Enjolras sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, he counts to ten several times in the attempt to calm himself down, however it didn’t seem to work. Think of kittens, think of rainbows, think of happy thoughts. Enjolras mutters to himself, as counting to ten doesn’t seem to help him to calm down. “It is making the world a better place.”
“I do admire you optimism.” Grantaire barks. “But you know that the world doesn’t work like that, right?”
“Well maybe I should be the one to change it. It is a miracle what one person can do.” Enjolras barks back as starts to make his way into to his room.
“Well it takes one person to mess things up even more than they are already.” Grantaire barks as he makes his way into his own room. “The Monarchy messed up things, so did Napoleon and didn’t Robespierre?”
“Don’t you insult Robespierre!” Enjolras exclaims. “He was doing the best for France.”
“No he wasn’t, not unless you think getting people guillotined for the sake of it is the best r changing the whole bloody calendar.” Grantaire replies.
“You are a right bastard, if I had the power to travel back in time, I would take you to Robespierre myself and get you executed.” Enjolras growls.
“Aren’t you the charmer?” Grantaire hisses. “You might even be more of one, if you remove that great bloody stick up your arse. You are so uptight that you can turn coal into diamonds with your arse.”
“I heard some shouting,” Joly’s panicked voice comes through the door. He opens up the door without asking for permission and he walks into the room and he looks at Enjolras and Grantaire with a look of shock a the two of them, who are both starting at each other with clenched fists and bared teeth. The two of them slam their doors closed before Joly can ask about what is going on.
Joly stands there for a few moments, not knowing what to do or what to say. “Hey guys, do you want to see me take off my leg?”
Grantaire did not sign up for things like this to happen. Well technically he did when he applied for a shared room and scrawled his signature on a bunch of papers without even looking at the small print, so the part about having a roommate who hates your guts is probably in the fine print, probably next to the section about having an argument with the most beautiful person over a microwave and Robespierre. Well the point is that, when he signed up for having a shared room, he was expecting that having a shared apartment would help him afford to pay for things such as bills and for someone who would be able to actually tolerate him and hang out with him as his friends had hooked up together in the summer, after spending the last four years of dancing around each other and clearly not flirting each other, and now they were in the honeymoon period where they can’t kept their hands off another. It is not that Grantaire minds his friends being together, in fact that he is rather happy for them as it is the happiest that Joly has been in a while, but he wants to get some sleep during the year and from the experience of crashing with Joly and Bossuet during the start of their relationship, he had discovered that Joly and Bossuet are very loud and a prosthetic leg getting thrown at a wall in a moment of passion, makes a rather loud noise and it shakes the pictures off the walls.
But the one thing that he didn’t expect when he signed up for a roommate was that he would have a roommate who was like Enjolras. He had signed up for a roommate who would be like him and he would be able to play computer games with and have stupid philosophical conversations with them at three in the morning. But Enjolras is not like that. Grantaire doesn’t understand how one minute Enjolras seems to be alright but the next moment it is like Enjolras has a bloody great big stick up his arse. It is really annoying is that Enjolras is so beautiful and he looks like someone who would be the main protagonist of a romantic comedy just from looks alone, but in reality Enjolras is an ex that you would be happy to see the back end of, and the fact that he got upset over a microwave, just makes him even stranger. To Grantaire, a microwave is something stupid to get upset over. To Grantaire there are only three things that you should get upset about: when you get your ass kicked in a boxing match, when you eat all of your popcorn before the movie starts and you have to be hungry for the rest of the film and when the couple that you want to be together doesn’t happen and they end up with someone you hate. Getting upset over a microwave is just idiotic.
It is not that Grantaire is sulking from his fight with Enjolras, it is just that he is avoiding him. He only seems to be able to piss of Enjolras just from doing the smallest things, like giving his views about how the world isn’t going to change if someone gets a new microwave or not, or even just eating. It is the sign that he isn’t going to spend the rest of the year in terror and he thought that his first year was bad enough when he had that dreadful case of food poisoning from Bahorel having his home barbeque and Joly’s science experiment that made Bossuet lose all of his year and destroyed their apartment . Maybe if he gets a bunch of tined food and he organises his teachers to Skype his classes, he would never have to leave his room ever again and he could avoid Enjolras and it would be a win win situation. Enjolras could just pretend that he didn’t have a roommate and he wouldn’t have to look at someone who rips out his heart when he makes eye contact with him. The issue of the bathroom was starting to crop up, so Grantaire decided that he would need to look at home furnishing magazines for ideas about installing a bathroom in his room.
Grantaire’s phone buzzes loudly, blaring out the ridiculous ring tone that he had installed for Joly, that is so annoying, but he keeps it anyway as Joly insisted that it was the ring tone that summed up his personality and a default ringtone wasn’t going to do that. . Grantaire swears loudly as starts to dig through the piles of clothes and other rubbish that are on the floor, looking for his phone.
“Wassap?” Grantaire says as he finds his phone in one of his old shoes and flips it open.
“Is everything okay with you and Enjolras?” Joly asks, just jumping straight to the point as Joly doesn’t dilly dally when he is on the phone.
“Yeah, we are good man.” Grantaire replies as he flops back on his bed.
“Really?” Joly asks, from years of knowing Joly, he can tell that Joly is raising his eyebrow at him, as that it Joly’s questioning look that he uses when he doesn’t believe that someone isn’t telling the truth. “I heard shouting and when I had come in to check if everything is okay, the two of you were slamming doors.”
“Yes, because a slamming door is the perfect sign that something is fine.” Grantaire replies. “I don’t think that Enjolras likes me that much.”
“He can’t dislike you already. You haven’t done anything wrong, have you?” Joly asks.
Grantaire lets out a loud sigh into the room. “I might have, he got upset over a microwave.”
“Are you wanting to sleep over at ours tonight?” Joly asks. “I think that you are needing to talk about this in person and not over the phone.”
“I will be down in a second.” Grantaire replies, hanging up the phone as he rummages through his crap once more and he shoves a change of clothes and a blanket and a pillow in his bag. He shoves his shoes onto his feet, and he opens up the door checking the coast if Enjolras is there. Enjolras still seems to be into his bedroom and he can hear the loud music of a political rap coming from Enjolras’s room. How dorkey the guy can get?
As he opens up the door, the door hits something and spills something on the ground. Grantaire looks down and he sees a mug that is on the ground and there is a puddle of tea forming on the ground. Grantaire couldn’t remember making tea, and he is pretty sure that there isn’t a tea making ghost in his apartment as it wasn’t mentioned in the welcome booklet. The welcome booklet mentioned about checking for mould in the bathroom, but there wasn’t anything about ghosts. But then again Grantaire only skimmed it, so he could have missed about the part about the apartment ghost. Maybe it was from Enjolras, a peace offering of some sort? Grantaire now feels bad; he didn’t feel bad about shouting about a microwave before but now guilt piles onto him heavily. Enjolras has taken the liberty of making him a cup of tea that Grantaire has let it gone cold and now it is on the floor.
He quickly cleans up the mess on the floor and he puts on the kettle and makes a cup of coffee for Enjolras and changes the filter in the machine and makes a pot of coffee, as the coffee machine is the only thing that Enjolras has unpacked, in the attempt to lessen his guilt. He places the cup by Enjolras’s door, far away so that it doesn’t get knocked over when he opens it. He knocks on Enjolras’s bedroom door and then leaves the apartment as quietly as he can without making too much noise and goes down to Joly and Bossuet’s.
Joly and Bossuet’s apartment actually looks like a set of a model apartment that is from Ikea and doesn’t actually look real enough to be an apartment where students own. It is tidy and there is nothing on the floor and it is filled with cushions and canvases of flower prints on the wall. It is difficult to believe that two students own this apartment and they apparently moved in the day before. Compared to his own and Enjolras’s apartment , it makes theirs look completely shit and makes it look like the before picture of a house before it goes on one of those home decoration shows. Joly is on the sofa and Bossuet is sitting on arm chair opposite him and both have a mug of hot chocolate in their hands. When Grantaire opens up their door, he makes his way onto the sofa as Joly is patting the cushion, trying to urge him to sit down. Joly and Bossuet are both in their pyjamas and Joly has taken off his leg and his fake leg is resting against the arm of the sofa and it is being used as a drinks holder, with a mug of hot chocolate in there for Grantaire.
“So what is going on?” Bossuet asks once Grantaire has taken a sip of hot chocolate and has made himself comfortable on the sofa. “Joly mentioned something about a fight about a microwave and you and Enjolras are not speaking.”
Grantaire lets out a sigh and closes his eyes so that he can avoid looking at Joly’s concerned face. “It is just not a big deal, “ he says. “We just got into a fight as me and Bahorel hung out last night and we played catch that went wrong and it broke the microwave.”
“I was going to ask you about how Enjolras is involved in this, but I think the question of how you broke a microwave is more important.” Joly says.
“Me and Bahorel were playing extreme catch.” Grantaire answer.
“Is this the one with fire?” Bossuet asks.
“Naturally.” Grantaire replies and he takes a sip of his coco, letting the warmth go through him for a few seconds. “Bahorel burnt his hand and he tried to get the ball out of his hands fast as he could and the microwave was in the road and the ball got thrown at it.”
“So why is Enjolras angry?” Joly asks.
“Because Bahorel’s roommate is his best friend, and it was his microwave that we broke.” Grantaire’s sighs. “And then he goes on about how his friend is now oppressed because he doesn’t have a microwave now. I said that I was sorry and all that, but Enjolras is still pissed and then I made comment about Robespierre and now Enjolras wants to have me guillotined”
Joly hums thoughtfully to himself and then looks over to Bossuet . “I think that this situation calls for marshmallows.” Joly announces. “Bossuet, be a lamb and got and get the marshmallows.”
“I am already on it.” Bossuet says as he goes into the kitchen as he throws over the bag of marshmallows over to Joly who catches it perfectly with one hand.
“I said that I would put some money for a new microwave. “ Grantaire says as he grabbed some marshmallows and shoved them into his mouth, ignoring the disgusted expressions on Joly and Bossuet’s faces. “Enjolras made it clear that it had to be a new one and not a used one.”
“We are going to go microwave shopping with Bahorel tomorrow.” Bossuet sighs as he rubs his hair. “And we are going to solve this problem with you and Enjolras and then we will be able to watch Celebrities under water without the distraction of you too yelling at another.”
“Celebrities under water?” Grantaire asks.
“It is our new favourite show,” Joly says with his voice getting excited as he switches on the TV, using his leg to press the on button. “It is about celebrates-“
“Who are under water?” Grantaire asks. “The show kind of explains it’s self in the title.”
“Well it is a good episode; David Schimmer is under water today.” Bossuet says as he moves his eyes onto the TV. “And I don’t think that he is going to cope as he has a faulty snorkel.”
“And he might not be a good swimmer.” Joly cackles as he high fives Bossuet who is clutching his ribs as he laughs. The one thing that confuses Grantaire about his best friends, is that they have the ability to find rather mundane things rather funny, well rather funny isn’t the word to describe their reactions, hysterical is probably the closet word to describe how Joly and Bossuet act over the slightest of things.
“What is the next show?” Grantaire asks. “Celebrity funerals?”
“We can be the writers for it.” Joly says and then they go into a comfortable silence that is only broken by their laughter and the muffled screams of David Schimmer who is having problems with his scuba equipment. Joly and Bossuet soon go off to bed, with Bossuet giving Joly a piggy back ride and with Joly screaming the word Eagle as they go into the bedroom. Grantaire only shakes his head at his friends before he settles down on the sofa and tries to get his fight with Enjolras out of his mind.