Perhaps Enjolras is correct. Perhaps this world is truly, measurably worse. Grantaire does not believe this or believe in the potential for a quantifiably better world (though he would readily admit that one man's situation may be less amenable in one world than another), but what does he know of these different worlds? His own ideas have been based on the existence of a single, solitary world through which men pass from birth to life's end and into darkness. These ideas may scream for reevaluation after this shift of worlds, but he hasn't the time or focus to examine them now, if ever. It may be best to simply hold on where he can and try to keep from drowning.
He smiles slightly, a half-dejected smirk at Enjolras' words. Another misunderstanding, though it may be Grantaire's own fault for shrouding his intent with inflated speech and gestures. Had it not become clear at Corinthe? Of course not; Corinthe was obscure, awash in too many details and perceived failings, too much death and too many sudden realities. Whether Enjolras knows it or not, Grantaire has long since pledged his service (not a formal idea, but an earnest recognition and offering), waiting only to find his means.
Here he finds something of an answer: simply to be, to speak, to accompany. And this is far more than he might ever have expected in Paris, as is Enjolras' admission of the reason for his silence. There is a show in this of... Well, if not of respect, at least of the camaraderie that Enjolras had so rarely shown in Paris.
It is while considering these matters that Grantaire notices the marks on Enjolras' wrists. That... That must be what he means. That must be related. (And it may be why Enjolras has withdrawn his hand, though that may merely indicate a desire to be removed from Grantaire. And who could blame him?) These marks and the trials of this new world. The slavery. The questions Grantaire might well ask.
But if Enjolras wishes to keep silent on the matter, Grantaire will honor his wish. If Enjolras should ever wish to speak, Grantaire will listen. Until then, silence. It is only Grantaire's eyes that may betray him, flashing a flicker of troubled surprise.
"Then so be it." He stands, attempting to strengthen his smile. "Every man must have his silence, every man must have his time. Far be it from me to break the respect that any man is due. Speaking, drinking, eating: these are functions I was made for. And rest assured that while I live--if life this may be--you need not be alone."
no subject
He smiles slightly, a half-dejected smirk at Enjolras' words. Another misunderstanding, though it may be Grantaire's own fault for shrouding his intent with inflated speech and gestures. Had it not become clear at Corinthe? Of course not; Corinthe was obscure, awash in too many details and perceived failings, too much death and too many sudden realities. Whether Enjolras knows it or not, Grantaire has long since pledged his service (not a formal idea, but an earnest recognition and offering), waiting only to find his means.
Here he finds something of an answer: simply to be, to speak, to accompany. And this is far more than he might ever have expected in Paris, as is Enjolras' admission of the reason for his silence. There is a show in this of... Well, if not of respect, at least of the camaraderie that Enjolras had so rarely shown in Paris.
It is while considering these matters that Grantaire notices the marks on Enjolras' wrists. That... That must be what he means. That must be related. (And it may be why Enjolras has withdrawn his hand, though that may merely indicate a desire to be removed from Grantaire. And who could blame him?) These marks and the trials of this new world. The slavery. The questions Grantaire might well ask.
But if Enjolras wishes to keep silent on the matter, Grantaire will honor his wish. If Enjolras should ever wish to speak, Grantaire will listen. Until then, silence. It is only Grantaire's eyes that may betray him, flashing a flicker of troubled surprise.
"Then so be it." He stands, attempting to strengthen his smile. "Every man must have his silence, every man must have his time. Far be it from me to break the respect that any man is due. Speaking, drinking, eating: these are functions I was made for. And rest assured that while I live--if life this may be--you need not be alone."