[ He drops his head, ashamed and exhausted. It isn’t often that he has the motivation to argue like this, and Enjolras’ retort instantly drains away what little ambition he had left. It’s like a slap to the face, and he thinks he may feel immediately sober just from how much it hurts.

At least Enjolras is listening. At least he’s paying attention. Sometimes, that’s all Grantaire wants, but how can he say no? He doesn’t want to deny Enjolras anything, but even small tasks so often grow into burdens that he can’t bear. He can obey this simple command, at the very least, and when he wakes, if he remembers, he'll ask for a task once more. If he's lucky,
he'll be able to complete it. ]

Nor will the wine, I hear.

[ Looking a pitiful mess, he begins to make his way past Enjolras, toward his own bed, but he pauses, glancing over his shoulder. ]

If I could force myself to sleep in those tubes once more and wake our other friends in my stead, I would do it. I would do it for you.