Work Text:
“There wasn’t a time when you were kind,” Grantaire sang under his breath, leaning against the door frame watching Enjolras.
“When your voice was strong, and your words motivating.” He scanned the man, remembering the first time he had heard his voice and how awestruck he had been.
“There wasn’t a time when love wasn’t blind,” His voice broke a bit, but he took a deep breath and continued to sing, making an attempt to pull his eyes away but unable.
“And your soul was a song, and the song was exciting.” Grantaire looked upon the blond as he yelled about the revolution to his friends, not noticing that he was missing.
“There was a time, then I was wrong.” He forced his eyes closed, he knew that they could never be even friends no matter how much he loved and admired him.
“I dreamed a dream in time gone by. When you held my hand, and stayed with me.” He eyes flutted open as Enjolras raced across the room to Jehan, half smiling at him and nodding his head. He tried once more to pull his eyes away as the man in red then made his way to Courfeyrac.
“I dreamed that you could love me. I dreamed that I could be alive.That I was the same.” Grantaire knew that they could never be equals. Grantaire would never even matter out to his spit.
“And dreams were made and used and wasted. There was no reason to believe. No reason for me to fight.” Taking part in such things gave nothing to him. It was no passion of his. He didn’t care about the people. He could easily leave with no regrets.
“But your words haunt me at night, with the passion of a roar.” But even so, Enjolras believed in this cause, and Grantaire couldn’t find it in him to not believe in Enjolras, it was impossible to not believe in such a man.
“As you didn’t care if you died. As you didn’t see me cry.” At the first thought of a revolution, Enjolras would gladly give up his life to help France. The simply though of his beauty stained with his blood made Grantaire sick to his stomach.
“He passed me all the time. His light wrapped around me. He was all that kept me going. But I mean nothing to him.” Tears began to form in his eyes as his voice rose in anger. Anger at himself for being so useless. For being for worthless. For being him.
“And still I dream he’ll come to me. That we will live the years together.” He shook his head, now forcing himself away from the man and turning his back. The tears rolled down his cheek as his heart tore more than it already was.
“But there are dreams that cannot be. And there are fights we cannot win.” He paused, noticing that his anger had turned to fear and then to sadness.
“I had a dream my life would be, so different from this hell I’m living.” He dragged his hand across his face, hoping that the tears would leave and his face wouldn’t be so red.
“So different now from what it was.” No matter how hard Grantaire tried he could never change how his life was. Pathetic. Just like him.
Grantaire glanced over his shoulder, he wouldn’t know if he left, he wouldn’t care if he ran. Unable to continue to let Enjolras’ light hold him there, imprisoning him in that place with him, he turn his back and let out a breath. The tears came back and he disappeared, the last words he sung still lingering in the air.
“He is the dream I dreamed.”