[ He watches that expression closely, intrigued when the speech doesn’t come, surprised when a statement about him does. Surprise isn’t an expression that shows profoundly on Grantaire’s face. He merely raises his eyebrows, his eyes still fixed tenderly on Enjolras. ]

They knew where they wished to carry me that day, and for once my mind was in agreement.

[ The one and only time his mind and his feet worked together to accomplish something in life. He glances down, finally remembering he’s still grasping a handful of pilfered papers. Turning away, he places them out of the way, somewhere Enjolras will (hopefully) not ask after them. Quietly, he muses: ]

But for a moment, I thought you might deny me.