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Enjolras was completely and utterly frustrated with Grantaire. An hour into the meeting, and nothing had gotten done because the impossible man kept pushing his buttons and challenging his arguments.
‘Things aren’t that simple just because you yelled it real loud, Apollo’ or ‘But what does that actually affect? All it does is create a more hostile environment in which people are more likely to stab each other than they already do. You can’t shove equality down people’s throats like it’s medicine down a sick child’s throat’ among some of R’s comments.
It was reaching a point of boiling over, Enjolras storming across the room to face Grantaire, red and flustered with anger. He opened his mouth, ready to speak, when he noticed something small and brown land in the mop of dark curls.
He furrowed his brows and tried to see what it was.
“Helloooo? Earth to Apollo. You were gonna say something? Not that I don’t love you scowling at my hair, but do us both a favor and deliver me a merciful death.”
Enjolras ignored Grantaire, focusing on the little brown thing in the other’s hair. Suddenly, it jumped off of R faster than he could react and landed on Enjolras’ nose. He gasped and nearly fell back, bracing himself on the table with one arm, blue eyes going cross trying to look at the slimy little creature.
“....Is that a frog?” Grantaire blinked, staring at the adorable little thing as it stuck to the chisled nose of his marble obsession. Grantaire began laughing. It was a genuine thing, not one of his usual bitter laughs. “Quick, someone please get a picture!”
Courfeyrac, already having jumped up, obliged, snapping a photo of a very confused Enjolras who was still trying to look at the blueberry sized creature on his face.
“Awhhh! How did the little guy get in here?” Jehan asked no one in particular as he drew his hair back before trying to grab the little guy. The frog jumped before Jehan’s hands could wrap around it, and landed on the table beside them. Jehan pulled his hands back and pouted “Stay still little guy we’re not gonna hurt you!” He tried catching it again, failing once more and almost falling onto the table. The frog hopped back onto Enjolras, this time clinging to his sleeve.
Enjolras looked down at the little thing. It was kind of cute, he thought. He raised one brow, blue eyes looking at the little black eyes of the frog, which seemingly stared up at him, meeting his gaze. He knew it only seemed that way, because few animals other than humans and dogs were able to make true eye contact. He recalled Combeferre telling him that once.
He heard Grantaire mumble something about ‘The Prince and the Frog’ while he was busy observing the small animal. It was a pale brown, with speckles of darker brown. It was only a tad bit bigger than a blueberry. Probably dreadfully lost, as they liked to live in gardens or near ponds and they were in the back room of a cafe. There was a park nearby and communal gardens down the street but how could this tiny thing get all the way over here? If one of the Amis could catch it, Enjolras would return the poor thing to the gardens or the park.
With Jehan’s next attempt to grab the frog, it jumped over the ginger’s head and landed on top of Combeferre’s book.
“I’ve got ‘im!” Bossuet was the next to attempt to catch this little tresspasser, but tripped on a chair and tumbled to the floor. The frog jumped onto his back and then hopped onto the floor, where Feuilly and Bahorel were waiting for it, both trying to grab it. Bahorel ended up on top of Bossuet, and Feuilly next to them. The frog was now on the wall, black eyes surveying the room.
Courf very sneakily tried to flank the right side, with Combeferre on the left. Neither were victorious, as the frog simply hopped back onto the table, earning a frustrated cry from Courfyerac. “Okay at first you were cute, little frog, but the charm has worn off!”
Enjolras in the meanwhile had gotten a clear container and flipped it over, placing it over the frog. He raised his brow at his friends, who all seemed dissatisfied with his method of frog catching. The frog pawed at the plastic container with it’s little hands, clearly confused as to why it couldn’t get past what to it, seemed like a wall that wasn’t there.
Enjolras meanwhile tipped open the corner of the container, wrangling the frog into his hands and trapping the creature there.
“Figures, Apollo went the boring route! Come on, it’s so much more fun trying to just grab it.”
“It isn’t the most efficient, I’m more concerned with getting the frog back to its home than chasing it like a fool.” The frog poked part of its head out between two of Enjolras’ fingers. It couldn’t get out, not for lack of trying.
Grantaire smiled, for as much as he criticized the tactic. It was a sight, Enjolras holding a tiny frog.
“I’m going to go release them in the gardens.” Enjolras said, looking at the small animal’s head peeking out from between his fingers.
Grantaire insisted on going with him, if only to open doors since Enjolras’ hands were full. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Enjolras, who seemed genuinely concerned by the frog’s being so far from home. He tutted the creature when it squirmed in his hands, as if he could calm it like a child.
Grantaire was going to retort, but decided against it, as they arrived at the gardens before long.
Enjolras kneeled down in front of a strawberry plant and opened his hands slowly. The frog sat there for a moment before jumping onto the plant. He smiled softly, and Grantaire thought himself unworthy to witness such a sight. Enjolras stood up a moment later and looked at Grantaire.
“Let’s head back to the musain.”
“Of course, now that the knight in shining armour is done saving innocent animals! What’s next, a kitten in a tree?” Grantaire jested with a laugh.
“Actually that’s happened before.”
“No!”
“Remember that time I broke my arm?”
“Ah yes how could I forget, you were perpetually pissed more than usual because you couldn’t do the same work for the Amis as usual.”
“I fell out of the tree, but I saved the kitten.”
“Of course you did.” Grantaire shook his head with a good natured laugh. “Who knew all it would take to get us to stop fighting for a while would be a little tresspasser.” He mused, realising they hadn’t been at each others throats since the frog appeared.
Enjolras scoffed. “It was a distraction from a growing headache.” He sighed. “What were we even arguing about?” He shook his head and let out a small chuckle.
Grantaire shrugged. “Your always wonderful ideas.”
Enjolras rolled his eyes. “My ‘always wonderful ideas’ that you hate.”
“Oh yes your ideas are garbage, though I don’t hate them but I know you can make them better. I believe in you.”
“At the very least you seem to hate me then.”
“What gave you that impression?” Grantaire furrowed his brow. “I don’t hate you, quite the opposite.”
“Really? Your actions around me would speak otherwise..”
“Oh shit, sorry, I mean..I don’t want you to think I hate you? You’re awesome, when your ideas aren’t sucky.”
“My ideas aren’t ‘sucky’!”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself to get to sleep at night, Apollo.” Grantaire beamed.
“Hmph.”