[ Grantaire remembers it. It serves as his final memory before waking to silence and Enjolras facing the National Guard. He isn’t resentful. Whatever hurt he may have felt in that moment has been long since washed away.

If anyone other than Enjolras had admitted to not understanding him, he would have laughed in amusement. He feels as though he puts it all out on the table for anyone to see, but this is Enjolras, and all he can do is furrow his eyebrows. ]

There’s little to understand. I drink, I gamble, I speak of things in a most distressing and grave manner, and then I drink some more. I believe in very little, and I have the motivation to accomplish even less. What is it that escapes you?