granxaire:

        Grantaire could spend an hour telling Enjolras why
        he called him Apollo, he’s pretty sure he’s done so
        in the past, and it still wouldn’t get through his thick
        Enjolras head. But that was an argument better had
        after noon when Grantaire had more than caffeine
        and nicotine keeping him alive.

                        So instead he rolled his eyes and gestured
                        to the kitchen with a nod of his head, a silent
                        ’yes, there’s coffee, who do you think I am?’

 “You know that’s completely untrue. Gavroche came by.”

                Which probably shouldn’t count at all. He would’ve
                come by anyway. And he didn’t trick or treat so 
                much as he took what he wanted and went off to do 
                whatever it was mastermind street urchins did.

:: { ℑ⋅ℇ } ─ ─ ─ ::

           He’s learned not to carry in
       expectations when dealing with
       Grantaire and it’s been working
       out surprisingly well for him. It
       makes the intermittent bouts of
       disappointment seem almost
       routine. This time though, Enjolras
       looks pleased for a flash before
       he hides it underneath a scowl.

                                    “That’s not Halloween, that's 
                                  every other Friday.” And he eats
                                  all their candy too. Nothing changes.
                                  Except for the micro-fine glitter.

             Pushing himself off the seat,
       Enjolras jerks his head to the
       laptop– to the open page.
       "Tell me if you see what I see.“

                                       He’s gonna try and inject
                                    ｃａｆｆｅｉｎｅ in his veins.