grantaire + art (ft. enjolras, because why not, eh?)
"Ah, now that I can get on board with." He shrugged a little, thinking of his mother. "She’s tried out a bunch of jobs over the years. I remember her waitressing when I was very little, but now she’s a hairdresser, I think because she knows the owner of the salon. She’s been there for a while now."
"Ah, that explains why your hair looks so good," Grantaire teased, pushing a playful hand through it.
"That sounds extremely boring," Jehan said bluntly. "Though I’m sure he’s nice and all. What about your mother?"
Grantaire didn’t comment. “She’s an English tutor. She used to work in schools, but now she just works from home. What about yours?”
"Oui, I have no idea where. And I couldn’t name a single song if you asked me. I just remember the tunes of them from when I was little."
Grantaire laughed, but sobered quickly. “There wasn’t much music in our house,” he admitted. “My father is very… non-creative, t’sais? He’s a mathematician.”
[text] Come on Grantaire we scheduled this
[text] I am insulting you, we are practising verbal self defense
[text] DEFEND DEFEND MEWLING QUIM
[Text] I’d completely forgotten
[Text] I thought you were just being a bit mean. - R
"I’m just saying you’re as stubborn as I am," Enjolras said, curling his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Oui, je sais," Grantaire said, smiling at him. He shivered involuntarily. "Ready to head back in?" he asked.
Enjolras raised his eyebrows. “When have I ever made you do anything?”
Grantaire smiled at him, kissing his forehead again. “Don’t start.”
[text] Oui, he is so low on the spectrum they deemed you unworthy.
[text] Why aren’t you defending yourself Grantaire
[Text] Why would I be defending myself