scienceandmoths

:: { ℑ⋅ℇ } ─ ─ ─ ::

            He  doesn’t  say  anything  at
       first,  just walks  by  Combeferre
       towards  the kitchen.  There’s  a
       bit of chaos but he returns, alive
       and equipped with a mug of tea.

            Enjolras scrutinizes the room
      for a moment. It’s of no discerni-
      ble  reason for  all he  does is  fit
      himself  between  in the silver  of
      space between Combeferre and
      the armrest.

                           "Scoot over, please.“