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Summary
“You and Combeferre have infinitely more chance of getting together than Enjolras and I,” Grantaire said with finality.
Courfeyrac sat up straight. Grantaire did not like the gleam in his eye as he slowly raised his finger in the air like an idea worthy of Einstein had just come to him.
“Are you quite sure of that sir?” Courfeyrac asked in a mock posh accent.
“Indeed I am, my good fellow,” Grantaire replied in the same way.
“Then monsieur, I challenge you to a little wager. I bet you that I can make Enjolras kiss you before you can make Combeferre kiss me.”
“What? Courfeyrac that is ridic-”
“Fifty euros says I can do it before you can. Just think, if you win you have fifty euros. If you lose Enjolras has just kissed you. It’s win-win situation.”
Grantaire blinked twice.
“So what are the ground rules?”