savoir c'est pouvoir


Goddammit he was late. Enjolras quietly swore underneath his breath as he hurried towards his first class of the day, mentally cursing his friends for deciding to have a party last night and forcing him to come. Frankly, it was ridiculous. With his coffee clutched in his left hand – vanilla macchiato, extra shot – and his laptop in the other, he shouldered his way into the building, narrowly avoiding spilling the piping hot coffee on the person he had barely avoided bumping into. He muttered a quick apology before slipping past them and beelining for the lecture hall… only to find the lecture had been cancelled. 

Taking a moment to compose himself and take a deep breath, he walked back to the main entranceway, slower, this time. Plopping down on one of the armchairs there, he opened his laptop and started typing. It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good morning and a perfectly good cup of coffee.