The captain had left Grantaire, meaning he was all alone. Without his presence, Grantaireís anger disappeared. It wasnít like he wasnít angry anymore, but he was tired. His head hurt and every movement or every sound made it only worse. His whole body protested against him.

He hated the captain who had stood there so comfortable while discussing the death of many people. He hated the smirk when their eyes met, like Enjolras knew Grantaire was at his mercy. But the sun had lit up his hair and turned him into the god he thought he was.

Grantaire wasnít sure whether to curse him or to pray to him.

He sank down on the ground. The chain around his neck was heavy, a silent reminder he was nothing more than a fucking hostage. Why hadnít they killed him yet? It wasnít like anyone would pay for Grantaireís freedom or that he would have any information for the pirates. Maybe they hadnít realized that yet. But what would happen when they would?

He buried his face in his hands, his knees tucked up. Maybe if he closed his eyes for a little while he would wake up, back on the Patron-Minette. Maybe this was all a nightmare, fuelled by rum. Maybe Eponine would be there, laughing when he told her. How can the fearsome captain Enjolras look like a god? She would ask him. Stop bothering me with your wet dream. And then she would poke him in the ribs and they would laugh together. Everything would be fine.

But when Grantaire opened his eyes again he was still chained down in the captainís quarters. He was still at the mercy of the godlike captain, and Éponine was still- was still dea- He still didnít know what had happened to Éponine.

He didnít know how much time passed while he was sitting there. He could hear men shouting orders, could hear the wind in the sails. Could feel the ship find her way through the water. They must have had quite some speed. Maybe even the water recognised captain Enjolras as their god.

Eventually the door was opened and the captain entered his cabin again. In his hand he held a bowl.

ďI thought you might be hungry,Ē the captain said. In reaction Grantaire spit on the ground.

Yes, he was hungry. He was hungry, and tired, and scared, and felt weak, and definitely needed something to drink. But he was also stubborn and refused to let Enjolras know that.

The captain didnít become angry by this little rebellion. He didnít hit Grantaire in the face, didnít demand an apology or threatened to hurt him if he didnít clean it up right away. None of the things captain Claqesous would do - had done - for things even less than this. Instead the blond captain justÖ smiled? The kind of smile you would give a cat that was doing ridiculous stupid things, or you would give a toddler in a tamper tantrum. Grantaire wanted to wipe that smile off of his face.

ďI get it,Ē the young captain said. How could he look so young and yet so wise at the same time? How could he be the fearless famous captain, while looking barely older than Graintaire himself? Maybe this was all a joke. Maybe this wasnít captain Enjolras, but his son posing like him. (But it wasnít, Grantaire knew. No other person would have this air of magnificence).

ďNo you donít,Ē Grantaire spit out. He was still waiting for the anger, for the mask to drop and to show the real face of the man in front of him.

Captain Enjolras put the bowl down. ďHere, for you.Ē He stepped back to leave the prisoner alone. Grantaire didnít eat it, no matter how delicious it smelled. Instead he grabbed the bowl and tossed it to the head of the captain. With a loud bang the bowl hit the door next to the captain, leaving the man himself with the food stuck in his hair.

And still the man managed to smile before leaving the room.

Reageer (3)

  • Derks

    Dit is echt ZO heerlijk om te lezen! Ik geniet hier van. Smullen :Y)

    3 maanden geleden
  • BOOKWURM

    Haha angry little boiii

    3 maanden geleden
  • Phlegethon

    I love how they seem to already rile each other up xD

    3 maanden geleden

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