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"And what about the liberty of man?" Enjolras prompted, awaiting Grantaire's answer before he realized he was, in fact, prompting Grantaire. That's new.
"Haven't you heard?" Grantaire replied with a lopsided grin. "'Freedom is life's great lie.'"
Outraged, Enjolras continued the conversation until it was so late he had no choice but to close the meeting. He didn't realize until later, fuming, that what he had felt throughout the conversation was enjoyment.
*
"It seems that I enjoy arguing with Grantaire," Enjolras says without preamble.
"Yes," Combeferre replied, amusedly quirking an eyebrow. "In your defense, he does intentionally anger you."
"But I enjoy it," Enjolras laments. "Why is that?"
"Because you like him."
"In spite of myself, I suppose I do. He is a rather loyal friend at times," he concedes.
"Oh, Enjolras," Combeferre says, smiling ruefully and shaking his head.
*
Later that night, Enjolras nearly tore his room apart searching.
He gave a cry of triumph and finally opened the card dated two years ago. It was addressed to "Enjy".
"CONGRATULATIONS", the cover shouted. Inside, in Courfeyrac's handwriting, it read, "You are about to meet the love of your life." Courfeyrac gave it to him right before he met Grantaire.
The night they met was the night Enjolras discovered what an insufferable asshole Grantaire was, but at the end of the night Courfeyrac was smiling softly, observing. Enjolras had found it weird at the time, but it was slowly starting to make sense.
Love of his life? Grantaire? Was Grantaire even his type? "Do I even have a type?" Enjolras wondered. "Well, I like challenges. Grantaire is certainly a challenge." He imagined waking up every day and having a debate with Grantaire. "I like intellect, but I also like people who enjoy themselves." Thinking back, Enjolras could remember day after day where the Amis hung out at a bar and Grantaire, after singing karaoke or drinking with Bahorel, would sit across from Enjolras in his booth and discuss Plato and Robespierre. Enjolras imagined falling asleep to discussions with Grantaire about the 19th century French monarchy, but was distracted when his heart leapt at the thought of sleeping next to Grantaire.
"Oh my god," he thought to himself. "I'm in love with Grantaire.
What do I do?"
*
The next day at the Musain, Enjolras finished a speech and then asked Grantaire for his opinion. Combeferre gave him a sidelong glance that he ignored.
After about ten minutes, Enjolras asked Grantaire to stay after to continue the conversation. When he did, Enjolras settled back into his chair, a small content smile on his face as Grantaire gesticulated and articulated his points.
*
About a week later, Enjolras woke up with an idea in his head.
He needed to do something about Grantaire. He could always ask him out, but dating was to get to know someone. He knew Grantaire.
"No," he later mused to himself, fingering the ring in his pocket, "this is a much better idea."
He took out his phone and texted Grantaire.
Are you busy? -E
I'm never too busy for you, Apollo. -R
Will you meet me at the park? -E
Gimme ten. -R
*
Asking Grantaire to marry him wasn't a completely impulsive decision. Enjolras spent hours laying in bed that day, thinking.
Grantaire was intelligent, Grantaire was an excellent conversationalist, Grantaire was... Grantaire was beautiful, and Enjolras didn't know how he'd gone so long without realizing it, without realizing how happy Grantaire unintentionally made him. How much joy he'd been bringing into his life for two years. "I'm in love with him," Enjolras's brain told him, and that had cemented his decision.
When Grantaire showed up at the park with a grin on his face, the sunlight bouncing off his curls, Enjolras couldn't help but grin back.
"The mighty Apollo called?" Grantaire greets, drawing near.
"You're an artist," Enjolras responds. "It's a beautiful day and I figured walking through the park with someone who has an artistic eye wouldn't be a bad way to spend it."
Grantaire looks curious, but just nods his head and responds with, "Yeah, okay."
After a few minutes of idle chatter about the weather and cloud formations, Grantaire stops Enjolras with a hand on his arm. "We're coming up to my favorite part, "he excitedly tells Enjolras, grin overtaking his face. He drags Enjolras around the corner, and points to an absolutely beautiful stretch of shoreline. Grantaire's smile is infectious as he stares, glancing back after a few seconds to gauge Enjolras' reaction. He looks questioningly at Enjolras, grin still evident on his face, as Enjolras decides to completely remove his mask, expression going from calmly serene to happily adoring.
Grantaire looks glorious, like he'd be happy to look at the beautiful site before them forever and do nothing else. He's happy; it's a good look on him. "Grantaire," Enjolras whispers, staring like he never has before.
"Enjolras," Grantaire replies, still overjoyed from the beauty of the park.
Enjolras reaches forward to cup his left hand around Grantaire's cheek, Grantaire looking down confusedly at his hand, before he sinks to one knee.
"Grantaire," he starts, and, oh, he's slightly trembling. Enjolras realizes he's nervous. It hasn't hit him until now how insane it is for him to think he has ANY chance of Grantaire saying yes to marrying him when he doesn't even know if he'd say yes to a date. And why would he? He doesn't believe in anything Enjolras believes; why would he want anything to do with him at all? Grantaire looks more confused than ever, and Enjolras briefly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before continuing. "It's come to my attention that I'm in love with you." Grantaire's eyes widen and his mouth falls open, but Enjolras can't even look, has to keep going, assessing whatever part of Grantaire he can look at, occasionally daring to look up at his face. "I came to the realization that I enjoy debating with you, that that's actually the best part of my day. You're the best part of my day, always. And I want you to always be part of my day." Enjolras looks up, directly into Grantaire's wide eyes, heart pounding, pulls out the gold ring and asks, "Will you marry me?"
Grantaire is dumbstruck. Dumbstruck is an understatement. Shock is etched on his face, and after a heartwracking moment for Enjolras, Grantaire finally asks, voice hoarse, "Are you serious?"
It's not exactly the answer Enjolras was expecting, but at least it wasn't an outright no. Enjolras blinks a few times, looks down at the ring then back to Grantaire, and nervously smiles. "Completely."
Grantaire releases a shaky breath before looking down at Enjolras and releasing an emphatic, "Yes."
It takes a moment for it to register with Enjolras, but once it does, he leaps to his feet, all worries forgotten. He stares into Grantaire's hopeful eyes for a moment before leaning forward to take his face in his hands.
"Well, Apollo?" Grantaire says, quirking an eyebrow.
That's all Enjolras needs. Brushing a curl out of Grantaire's eye, he finally, finally leans in and presses his lips to his cynic's.
After a relatively chaste kiss, Enjolras pulls back to look at Grantaire, already feeling the smile tug at his face. He gently reaches down to take Grantaire's left hand, and he slips the ring on it.
Grantaire lifts his hand to look at it, and he looks absolutely dumbfounded. His eyes slide back to Enjolras, and he looks like the revolutionary has actually just given him the world. It's a good look, Enjolras decides, smiling softly at the man he's in love with. When Grantaire looks down again at Enjolras's lips, he can't help but to oblige.
*
When Courfeyrac gets home later that day, he finds a card addressed to "Courf" on his desk.
"CONGRATULATIONS", the cover shouted. Inside, in Enjolras's handwriting, it read, "You were right." In a corner toward the bottom was scrawled, "Thank you" in the same writing. Confused, Courfeyrac looked back inside the envelope and found a picture enclosed. When he was greeted with the ridiculously happy faces of Enjolras and Grantaire, rings on the hands they proudly displayed, Coufeyrac knew all would be right in the world.