Date: 2014-12-11 04:30 am (UTC)
pro_patria_mortuus: (to days gone by)
Enjolras puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently. For the moment, he doesn't say anything.

He's not precisely worried -- not precisely. It's only that he remembers. He remembers the barricade, and he remembers what it was like to come here after, even having had the time to look at the soldiers' guns and know they were about to fire.

And he knows Combeferre.

(The clothes are on the bed, the bottle of water and plate of food on the nightstand. They'll keep until Combeferre wants them.)
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wings_of_a_swan: (Default)
Combeferre

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