Grantaire had vowed not to return to Café Musain and he was determined to keep his word until one evening Jehan appeared in front of his door. “I was worried about you,” he said, sitting on the only available chair and looking into Grantaire’s eyes like he was going to cry. “We haven’t seen you for a week and I had a bad feeling, like that you would never return. Please, tell me I’m wrong.”
Grantaire swallowed loudly, and Jehan’s eyed widened. “So I was right? Oh, R, why would you do that? Won’t you miss us? Don’t you love us anymore?”
“Of course I love you!” He said – almost shouted – without thinking, and Jeahn sighed with relief.
“Then will you return?”
“I’m sorry Little Poet, I can’t do that.”
“I can’t tell you.”
Jehan blinked. “You just told me that you’re not going to return to your beloved friends, how could you expect me to go away like this? I am sorry, but I won’t accept anything but a proper answer.”
Grantaire sighed and shook his head. Of course he wouldn’t, but what other choice did Grantaire had? He couldn’t tell Jehan the truth because he promised Enjolras so, and even if he hadn’t ho would never spoil his secret, not even with a common friend. He knew Jehan would have understood that, even accepted it – in the end he was not even sure what Jeahn was, for his smell was so faint – but that was Enjolras’ choice, not his own, and the only thing he could do was keeping his mouth shout and his brain full of wine and opium.
“I’m sorry, I can’t give you what you want,” he said, but Jehan didn’t move.
“Then I will not leave you. You keep talking about can and can’t, and you are worrying me: is someone forcing things on you? Are you in danger? Oh, Grantaire, you know you can talk to me and if you need stronger arms I will fetch you stronger friends who will be so happy to help you. Just say the word, or I will never be able to sleep again!”
“That would be dreadful,” Grantaire said, unable to ignore how tears were slowly filling his friend’s eyes. “But don’t cry and don’t worry about my safety for no one is intimidating me. I’m afraid I am my only enemy in this matter: I can’t guarantee my behavior around you all, so it is better for everyone if I stay far from you, and that’s the only answer you will get from me.”
Jehan appeared confuse. “Did you have a quarrel with Enjolras again?”
Grantaire almost choked himself with his own saliva. How could he read him so easily? Was he that obvious? “Something like that,” he said. That wasn’t the truth, at all, but maybe it would have been enough.
“Then why didn’t you tell me? It’s not unusual that the two of you would fight – honestly I would probably scared of the opposite – but you talked like you made a promise and that confuses me: did he banned you? Were you ashamed to tell me that?”
“I’m only ashamed of myself,” Grantaire answered. “And no, Enjolras didn’t ban me, in truth he said I could return, but I don’t— no, I can’t do that. Please ask me no more.” He lowered his eyes and covered his face with his hands. The other made no sound and after few seconds Grantaire felt Jehan’s arms around his shoulder and his soft voice in his ear. “I’m sorry I imposed myself on you, trying to find out the truth” he said. “But please, try to understand me and forgive me. I love you and care about you, and so do the others, so, please, come tomorrow. Don’t attend the meeting, if you don’t want to, but let us see your face and let us share a drink with you. Enjolras isn’t your only friend, after all.”
Grantaire almost laughed. That was the problem: Enjolras wasn’t his friend. It didn’t matter what he said, what everybody said, he never thought of him as a friend: he was an obsession, an icon, a god. He didn’t loved him like he loved Jehan, or Bahorel, or Courfeyrac, he— he didn’t know how he loved him, he just knew it was something different, maybe even deeper, like a feeling digging in his brain, and heart, and soul – if he had one. It was painful and confusing and now that he knew Enjolras was an Omega it became even worse. He hadn’t dare to desire him like a mate, but that idea had been floating in his brain since he smelled his true scent for the first time, and how could he look at him now and not wonder how his lips tasted? Or how his skin felt? Damn, he was doing that again!
“I’m sorry you were worried about me,” he said, lifting his head and trying to smile. “And I will come tomorrow, just promise you won’t cry.”
Jehan hugged him and laughed, and with that promise he left.
Grantaire sighed and if he had believed in a god he would have preyed.