Courfeyrac is not much given to maudlin introspection, but being here, and being dead, and not knowing whether they will all be together again - it makes a man think. He's sure if they could just all be here, then things would be even more enjoyable and he would certainly not have to give his death any more thought at all.
He steps back from the bed so as not to wake Combeferre - though a book does slip from under his arm, and make a thunk - and runs a hand through his messy curls.
'Well. I will stay until he wakes. Or...no, perhaps I would disturb him. I should return these books perhaps. And fetch wine for later.'
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Courfeyrac is not much given to maudlin introspection, but being here, and being dead, and not knowing whether they will all be together again - it makes a man think. He's sure if they could just all be here, then things would be even more enjoyable and he would certainly not have to give his death any more thought at all.
He steps back from the bed so as not to wake Combeferre - though a book does slip from under his arm, and make a thunk - and runs a hand through his messy curls.
'Well. I will stay until he wakes. Or...no, perhaps I would disturb him. I should return these books perhaps. And fetch wine for later.'
There must certainly be a celebration.