kernow | ➳ i am a ghost, just a mirage

[ ~~By all means unpack it later because there’s a long history of R feeling like he should worship you, Enj—~~ ]

You’re welcome. [ R offers his arm with a wave back to the carousel doors and kisses Enjolras’ cheek with a tiny nuzzle. ] And what did you mean, dear?

[The threat of serious offense gone, Enjolras' scowl only deepens as he takes R's arm.]

You know what I meant. You don't usually go for something just because of the price or image of it, and this is...I don't want you blowing your money or something unnecessary just because you think it'll make me happy.

[Though, if he wanted to just dress up more on the fly, Enjolras is starting to think he could be amenable to seeing that on the regular.]

Well, say I want to blow my money because it makes me moderately happy to watch you puff with surprise and indignation about my audacity?

[ The triumphant smirk has to be implied as Grantaire chats quickly to get them led with two menus to a table for two. Earlier Grantaire had requested it set aside at this time because it was relatively far in the back of the restaurant, and against a wall for privacy. R moves to lead Enjolras with his fingers on his, which successfully makes it easy to ignore any snide remarks because there is a ringing in his ears.

The couple arrived at a white tablecloth set daintily. There is a candle flickering, and fragrant lavender, baby’s breath and a single white rose. A bucket of champagne lies in an ice bucket. At each small plate lies a napkin and silverware, including chilled salad forks. ]

[Enjolras tries to come up with a counterargument that doesn’t involve him feeding into Remi’s exact intentions and comes up frustratingly empty.]

I’m just trying to be considerate...

[Enjolras lets himself be led, sulking all the way to the back of the restaurant until he finally see the small nook Remi has carved out for them. He stops short when the get to the table, eyes going soft and lips curling back up into a small smile.]

...You’re ridiculous.

See? That? That’s what I did it for. You don’t smile enough for my ideal happiness. It’s all to be selfish, trust me.

[ The hostess places their menus in the setting in such a way that nothing looks out of place and it’s rather like they were always meant to be part of the set up. Grantaire smiles as he pulls out one of the two elaborate, wooden chairs to expose a fancy cushion. ]

Can I help you take a seat, sir?

Uh-huh. Clearly.

[While Remi's quips do earn him an eye roll, Enjolras smiles stays as he takes his seat. Minus the R sliding his chair into place, most of it comes as muscle memory; his posture straightens in the chair as he settles and places the cloth napkin in his lap.]

You do this for all the guests, huh?

[ The mannerisms don't escape R’s notice and he stifles a snort as he mimics the other taking his seat and folding the napkin into his lap. There’s an eyebrow up as he resists putting his elbow on the table and sips the ice water instead. ]

Do what, now? I don’t usually eat with them, no. First time, actually.

[Enjolras scrunches his eyebrows and gives him a look. Still deciding if Remi's deflections are charming or not.]

No, you just chat them up. You seemed like a favorite outside earlier.

I’m a server, E. My job is to be charming and make them want to come back— which is exemplified by my new friends the Porters who saw me five days ago.

[ He smiles and pops the cork off of the champagne, gesturing for Enjolras’ flute with a repressed smile at a personal joke. He grimaces as he pours the sparkling liquid into the glass expertly. ]

...and Americans frequently forget or ignore that they aren’t required to tip me. But some good repeat customers will leave a little too. Your crowd is wonderfully generous in exchange for niceties.

And is that what you’re doing now, being charming? I should warn you, I’m a third date sort of man.

[A rare attempt as being humorous? Shock of shocks.

Enjolras watches as Remi pops the cork off in a fluid, clearly well-practiced manner, swallowing hard as he stares transfixed at the brunette pouring his drink (There’s a far more modern, less painful flashback here, of well-toned forearms griping his thighs, a heavy breath near his cheek.)]

...You really have done this before. [He sounds openly impressed, like this whole thing had been assumed a joke at his expense up to this point.] ...Wait, what do you mean my crowd?

Edited 2020-02-02 23:28 (UTC)

[ Grantaire laughs openly now. God, when did he last do something fun...? Well. Besides bedroom fun. Different kind. This date was going better than the first, he decided. ]

By all means, if this isn’t charming, I know you’ll tell me. You don’t hold opinions in very well— which isn’t usually a rich people thing is it? Or maybe that’s why you like the laborers and merchants, we’re not as good at being polite. You fit right in.

[ He sips the champagne with a smile and a lingering look at Enjolras. Boy could this man reverse the charm. ] Well, sort of.

[Enjolras’ smile falters, cocking his head slightly back like he’s unsure quite what he’s hearing.]

I like “laborers and merchants,” or whatever you want to call everyday people, because they’re not completely disconnected to the world around them. Money can blind people to basic humanity, and the longer you’re around it the worse it gets. Yes, I grew up comfortable, but are you saying I’m “slumming it” in some way...?

[ R scoffs in reply, draining half the flute of champagne with a rather refined manner and sucking his teeth. ]

I would never use the word “slumming it,” but you looked genuinely amazed I could pop open a bottle without letting it fly into someone’s head.

[ He laughs sourly, remembering that it... did happen at one point. That was a good first week. ]

You’re not an “everyday” person. Don’t take it as an insult, either, and let me finish before you counter me. Yes I know you want to. I also know I don’t deserve you for even— Oh. Hey, Mel. Been a while.

[ The previously ready-to-dig in brunette clears his throat and smiles, ordering an appetizer for them to split after making sure it’s okay with E and the sever walks back the way she came, ponytail bobbing. ]

[Enjolras waits until Remi’s coworker departs to respond in kind, scoffing with indignation.]

I wasn’t trying to comment on your job, not that there’s anything even lesser about being in the service industry; I was just surprised that—[He cuts short, taking a moment to clear his throat in embarrassment.] ...that you could do that with such easy precision. It was very attractive.

[ Grantaire’s continuation of his explanation of why E should probably go back to his money world dies when he realized where Enjolras was going with that. The flush in his cheeks isn’t from the champagne, but he looks past Enjolras out the window as he finishes the glass quickly. ]

Oh. Even a broken clock is right once or twice a day, I guess.

[ He pours himself more champagne with a sigh. The necked bottle in his hand makes him flinch as he gets déjà vu from the deprecation and imagery. Maybe reincarnation did him fuck all good, if he’s still the same degenerate who can’t appreciate what he’s been given. ]

I see why you wondered why I was uncharacteristically charming before, huh?

[Enjolras takes a sip of his champagne, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He doesn't ever seem to know what to do when Remi is like this, flitting between argumentative and self-deprecating.]

I'm just not used to you...catering to people's self-image like that? You always seem ready to challenge convention, not cater to other's idealism of what the world is like. [And yes, he does recognize the irony of what he's saying.] But I understand the economic realities of it.

Thats a nice way of admitting you don’t know everything about me.

[ R smiles wryly and drinks more champagne, his lips drawn into a line as he looks back at Enjolras. He clears his throat and tries to turn it back into a date with what he hopes comes off with less bite. ]

Which Rémi do you prefer, then?

[Normally Enjolras would rise to the barbs, snap at him and his frankly shit attitude on this candle-lit dinner. But he really, really wants this to work, so much so it surprises him; so he breathes slowly, thinks through his response:]

No, you're right, I don't; we've only known each other, what, a couple of months? But that's what I'm trying to work through. So why don't you tell me instead of sulking in your drink? I don't "prefer" anything-- I just want to understand what's you and what's just you putting on what you think people want to see.

[ Grantaire winces, almost visibly but mostly into the flute he’s holding close for another drink. He waits so long to come up with an appropriate response that a plate appears from Mel topped with beautiful and delicate looking savory tarts.

His mind wanders back to far before the last few months— to weeks of talk and planning and research and demonstrations to crowds trying desperately to rally the people before they took their final stand that June. R remembers the men- boys. The young, fearlessly hopeful men who allowed the drunken cynic to sit in. They allowed him to gaze at the leader, listen to his words, wait for that unwavering faith and surety that Enjolras vehemently pushed onto his followers to impress into the man who’d been stripped of all but the faintest and most basic of desires.

Rémi blinks and looks back at the young man, faking a deep breath. ]

I’m not much of anything. I honestly... don’t know what you would define as “me.”

[Enjolras huffs at yet another non-answer, running his fingers through his wavy locks in frustration. He then braces his chin on his palm, fingers forming cage bars over his lips as he considers Remi for several moments (the food, typical for Enjolras, is ignored in favor of this latest object of fixation).]

That's clearly not true, I wouldn't be here if it was. I...I think you're funny. An ass about it at points, but definitely funny. Ridiculously intelligent...witty? Intelligent and witty. Oh and artistic, with the way you...you know, how you see things.

[He's bad at this, always has been; where he's provided the fire and the drive to their causes, he's always felt disconnected from the community he's tried to engage with once he isn't speaking to the issues he cares so deeply about. He's always envied Courfeyrac in that sense; where Enjolras has always been able to engage a crowd, Courfeyrac has always outdone him in interpersonal communication, offering a level of compassion and emotional intelligence Enjolras could only hope to emulate one on one.]

You're also definitely pessimistic...unjustly self-deprecating...cynical. God, so cynical. But then...you can be so kind, when you don't let that sink into you. It's like some moments you fight it, and others it just takes you over. I don't get it...

[ Grantaire feels the stubble on his face while he looks back at Enjolras piteously. With a swallow, R hears the sound of trampling feet on wooden stairs in his would-be memories; he wakes from a daze— and responds to the man in front of him with another drink from his glass. ]

How does my “artistry” and “wit” compare with someone who thinks he can change the world with sheer force of passion and optimism? [ He cocks his head, pouring a se— a third glass of champagne not liking that the bottle is now half empty. Half full? No. Half empty. ]

I cannot be enough for you. I’ve tried to reconcile it. I've tried to put on what I wish I could be like [ gesturing at the atmosphere around him with a sad, forced smile— ] for you. You are more than I could ever be. You are a reason to believe there’s good in the world. Where does that leave being funny and smart? I—

[ He swallows again, his Adam’s apple jerking in his throat. R extends his hand across the table past the aperitif. His mind’s eye conjures a sweaty and trembling hand with a pale, gun powder covered, but steady hand grasping it. Rémi’s hand shakes and he starts to pull it back, feeling small. ]You can say that but believing it is harder for me. All the same, I just—

[ R looks down at the tarts, trying not to be an idiot and get glassy eyes while his eardrums vibrate. ] I need to be something to you. So- [ So I can be something to me. ] So thank you.

Edited (let’s tone that down a bit. ) 2020-02-09 23:34 (UTC)

[Enjolras reaches out to that hand and grasps it before Remi can get away, riding out the inevitable memories he knows now comes with that specific form of contact-- (The Man and him alone in the Corinthe, the former just reaching out to trace the outline of his lapel before retreating; Joly and Bousset's boisterous laughter as The Man grabs the matron's shawl, acting out a rendition of Enjolras as a vestal virgin, tending the fire of liberty; "You don't believe in anything", "I believe in you") He stares him down, pure fire in his eyes, trying to will Remi into believing his own convictions.]

You are "enough" because I say you are. Don't deprecate yourself or my decision to want you. It's not going to change, so...deal with it.

“Deal with it?”

[ He rotates and grabs to squeeze the hand that caught his, a smirk playing at the melancholic expression as though fighting to make itself known. ]

I applaud you for eloquence and passion and that’s the best you’ve got for me?

[Whatever willpower Enjolras was hoping to impart, it seems to have backfired on him; he turns slightly pink in the ears, but doesn’t let go of Remi’s hand.]

Shut up, I mean it. I’ve been honest with you as soon as I figured out I wanted to kiss you instead of punch you. [ The second part still very much exists but it doesn’t really add to ENJOLRAS’ pint right now.] And I get you have some...baggage or something, and you’re working through that. If you want to tell me at some point, great. But I’m not going anywhere, so you’re just going to have to believe I want to hold your hand, fuck you into that wall behind us, grab coffee with you, all of it, whether you like it or not.

[ It was R’s turn to get rosy skin- in his ears and beneath the fine stubble below his cheekbones. He mouths a response and thanks god for small, dainty tables— then pushes the chair back quietly, stands and leans over, freeing his hand from Enjolras’ just to grab his tie and encourage the damned idiot to meet him a few inches and kiss him square.

R lingers for a moment but loosens his hold and then pulls back. With a smile, a genuine one, he grabs a tart and cuts into it with the same bemused expression. Motioning with his fork, he speaks before he takes a bite. ]

They’re excellent, by the way.

➳ i am a ghost, just a mirage

lie in your bed, Apollo

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