Midnight Phone Calls and Morning Coffee

scienceandmoths:

“Well it’s very rare that you find a professor
who agrees with you. I spend most of my
philosophy classes arguing with my professors.”

At Enjolras’ words Combeferre couldn’t help but laugh
softly, shaking his head slightly as he rested his elbow
on the desk he was seated at. “Well it depends on who
with. Obviously the professors refuse to admit when
they’ve lost, but I do tend to win quite a few of them
when it’s simply with others or friends.”

He wasn’t going to mention the fact that during one of
his last arguments he’d gotten into he was fairly sure
that someone had left in tears.

:: { ℑ⋅ℇ } ─ ─ ─ ::

      Enjolras groans. Why? ”Philosophy.
    I should’ve guessed. I took one class
    and was this close to pulling my hair
    out. Have you had Professor Benard?“
    He was… a unique experience, is all.

      It’s easy to talk to Tristan while he’s
    clearing out his inbox, searching for
    that one email he logged on for– it
    doesn’t even occur to Enjolras to hang
    up and let Tristan do his job. Not yet,
    at least. ”Sounds like you had debate
    team experience. Go on, then. How 
    many times did you win Championships?“