[He feels wretched, because while he'd like nothing more than for Enjolras to fuck off and drop whatever it is he wants to talk about, the fact is that Enjolras is paying attention to him and interested and that's better than nothing.]
[Everything crackles for a moment with the sharp rush of an exhale, the obvious shifting of weight on Enjolras's end. Grantaire can probably imagine the unhappy beginnings of an impulse to pace fretting through him.]
What does this-- do for you, exactly? All of this?
[He can picture Enjolras in his mind's eye. The frown, the shift of his shoulders.]
If you mean the wine, it helps soften the hard edges of the world into something bearable. If you mean the blowjob, well. You said you'd figure that out yourself. [Pause- and his tone gains a mocking edge.] I can't imagine what else you might mean, as that's all there is to me.
[There's more. There's more, but it feels impossible to scratch the surface when his entire body is ready to throw itself back into the fray at even the slightest provocation.]
To be fair, Grantaire can probably imagine the twist of his lips and slight cant of his head, preparing another thought with a careful sort of silence.
At least it's creative. Taking something and adding value to it. Not-- [Phones are imperfect. Gestures don't translate. What's more, they usually nearly make him drop his own phone.] --destructive for no reason.
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This is why I don't fucking text you when I'm sober, since you insist on knowing.
[It's not. It's not even remotely close to the real reason.]
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Because Enjolras is calling.
Pick up and don't be a dick, R.]
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[But he's answered the phone so...]
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What do you actually want, hm?
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Another bottle of wine would be nice.
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[Everything crackles for a moment with the sharp rush of an exhale, the obvious shifting of weight on Enjolras's end. Grantaire can probably imagine the unhappy beginnings of an impulse to pace fretting through him.]
What does this-- do for you, exactly? All of this?
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If you mean the wine, it helps soften the hard edges of the world into something bearable. If you mean the blowjob, well. You said you'd figure that out yourself. [Pause- and his tone gains a mocking edge.] I can't imagine what else you might mean, as that's all there is to me.
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Why me, then? Why interrupt this specifically?
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[And to him, that friendship is worth a fuckload more than your revolutionary ideas about changing the world.]
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Am I?
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Fuck. Why is he out of wine? He attempts to rally-]
When did you turn into a teenage girl?
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[Needs to, because it's currently logic-defying, but that isn't something to say out loud.]
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Sure, Enjolras. We're friends.
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[King of the logomachs, over here.
To be fair, Grantaire can probably imagine the twist of his lips and slight cant of his head, preparing another thought with a careful sort of silence.
It just reads less well over the phone.]
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Fuck his entire life.]
I'll make friendship bracelets if you like. In red, white and blue.
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[Self-depreciating sarcasm is the way out of this, he's sure.]
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[So close.]
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Who knew it would take bracelets to get into your good books? I can do necklaces too, if that'll endear me to you even more.
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Quietly-] I'm not as useless as you think I am.
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ooc;
ooc