No. Nope, nuh uh, this wasn’t happening. He wasn’t stuck under the mistletoe in the middle of all his friends, with Enjolras. No. He refused, redo, do over, he wasn’t actually in this situation. Who in the hell had he pissed off to make the universe hate him so? That’s not to say that he hadn’t thought about kiss Enjolras. He does. Regularly. But under mistletoe? In front of their friends? With (he assumed)a completely unwilling participant? Certainly, this would only spark more arguments and awkwardness and worst of all, he’d know what Enjolras’ lips felt like against his
He would never be able to forget that sensation.
So, of course, he smirks, and leans in, raising an eyebrow challengingly - because even his own internal panic won’t let him miss this chance, both for a kiss and to get a rise out of the other man. “Well, would you look at that. Mistletoe, Enjolras~”
:: { ℑ⋅ℇ } ─ ─ ─ ::
This is a joke, right? Serves Enjolras
right for not paying attention to anything
beyond his phone. Twitter feuds are not
actually important or in line with the much
proselytized Christmas spirit.
He looks up when the chaos erupts,
slightly drunken but ultimately merry cheers
surrounding the pair of them and it takes
a moment– a glance upwards before Enjolras
purses his lips and aims the displeased look
at Grantaire.
“And we’re just bastions of upholding
tradition, are we?”