poor single mother of 3, to her eldest son: boy…… will you please go to the well and bring your youth brother a pale of water? he is dying eldest son: mother i cannot!!! he is back… i just cannot face him once more… meanwhile at the well…
“You guys are awesome. You really are. You’re very bright. And just remember, you can do anything that you put your mind to.” —The First Lady to kids celebrating Take Our Daughters and Sons to Work Day at the White House
hey are u still taking request for the prompts? could u please do an enjoltaire with “Don’t listen to them. Don’t you EVER listen to them.”? u write fantastically btw!!
“It’s been two days and I already feel exhausted and stayed back far later than I’m supposed to. I’ve got two massive deadlines due at the same time because Julien decided to up and quit on Monday with absolutely no notice-”
“I know. So instead of just my work-”
“Which is a large amount of work as it is-”
“Thank you, yes it is- on top of my work I have to cover his workload too until they hire somebody else- which they haven’t even started the process of doing yet, and I’ll probably have to work through the weekend.”
Grantaire chuckled, his hands elbow deep in soapy water as he passed another dish to Enjolras to dry. “Yeah but when do you not do that?”
“I’m not talking about an email here or there or taking a few phone calls I mean I’m actually going to have to spend my entire weekend locked up in the bedroom writing.” Enjolras sighed as he put stacked the dry dishes away. “My mothers going to be so passive aggressively mad, She wanted me to come over for Sunday brunch as well. I’ll just have to tell her next weekend instead. That conversation is going to be fun.”
Grantaire merely nodded, his shoulders going slightly tense as he pressed his mouth into a thin line. He seemed to be thinking heavily before he spoke next.
“So am I invited to brunch?” He said tersely.
“Please don’t start.” Enjolras pleaded with a sigh. “I don’t want to fight, this day has already been the worst.”
“Fine.” Grantaire said, his tone clearly implying that things were not fine, as he threw the remainder of the dishes back into the sink with a heavy clash and began to stomp towards the bedroom.
“10 months, Enjolras! It’s been 10 months and I still haven’t even met your parents! People have grown and had babies in the span of our relationship and I still haven’t met your parents- who live 5 fucking streets away!”
“It’s more complicated than that!”
“Well then what is it? Are you ashamed of me?”
“What?! Of course not, how could you even think that?”
“Because not only will you not let me meet your parents, but it turns out you haven’t even told them about me!”
Enjolras suddenly became very quiet. His face grew clouded and sheepish and when he next spoke his tone was embarrassed. “How do you know about that?” He asked quietly.
“I wasn’t snooping.” Grantaire said crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. He’d dropped his volume, but the bitterness in his tone remained. “Last week you left yourself logged into your email on my laptop and a notification came up from your mother- asking if she could set you up with somebody because she was sick of her beautiful son wasting his youth on being single.”
Enjolras looked down to the floor. “I want to explain.”
Enjolras gestured towards the couch, and Grantaire reluctantly followed him, his arms still firmly crossed as he took a seat.
“Look,” Enjolras paused, choosing his words carefully. “The person my mother wanted to set me up with is a woman.”
“What?” Grantaire asked, his surprise bypassing his anger as he uncrossed his arms. “Wait, are you not-”
“No, I am.” He shook his head with a short, sharp laugh. “In fact, I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve come out to my parents. It’s just- it’s like they go temporarily deaf whenever I bring it up. They talk about the weather or their friends and completely brush past it. When I remind them, they pretend not to hear. And it’s been fine- well not fine, it’s been hard, and hurtful and frustrating but I’ve learned to accept it and live with it.”
Enjolras took a deep breath before continuing, “They’ve always had plausible deniability. They can live in their little world of denial and still think of me as their perfect son, but if-when I bring someone- you, when I bring you to meet them, they can’t deny it anymore. And- and I don’t think it’s going to go well.”
“Look, I love you okay? You know that. I’m not ashamed of who I am either and I’m not ashamed of you. But as much as they hurt me, I still love my parents, and I don’t think I’m strong enough or ready to completely cut them out of my life just yet. And I know that the moment they can’t deny who I am anymore, that’s exactly what I’m going to have to do.”
Grantaire was quiet and looking at Enjolras intensely. He finally moved his hand over to Enjolras’ and clasped it tightly. “Okay.” He said.
“Okay?” Enjolras asked, strained.
“Yeah. I understand. Take all the time you need. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
“Thank you.” Enjolras said with relief.
“You really should have told me though. It would have avoided a lot of arguments.”
“I know,” Enjolras said with a sigh, “It’s just embarrassing though.I can stand up to strangers but not my own parents? People would say I’m a coward-”
“Don’t listen to them. Don’t you EVER listen to them. You’re not a coward, and the worlds not that black and white. Most importantly- you’re human, Enj. You’re allowed to be complicated. Don’t hold yourself to such a high standard.”
“Thank you.” Enjolras said sincerely, pulling him into a tight embrace.
“Question. When you are ready and I do meet them, am I allowed to wear my ‘Fuck you, you Fucking Fuck’ t-shirt?”
Enjolras laughed and wiped away a small tear. “Only if you wear a nice jacket, too.”
Priam arrives at Achilles’ shelter to ransom the body of his son Hector. The youth facing him has been variously identified as an attendant or the disguised Hermes. Tondo of an Attic red-figure kylix, attributed to the Briseis Painter; ca. 480 BCE. Thought to have been found at Vulci; now in the British Museum.