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Summary
“Grantaire… I think… I love you.”
Slowly, upon hearing those words escape from Enj’s lips, he moved his hands upward, so he was stroking the back of Apollo’s neck. His hands, for the first time in a long time, were not shaking, and he was totally captivated by Enjolras, who held R with his gaze.
“I love you,” Enjolras repeated. “Grantaire, I love you.”
Grantaire’s lips were on Enjolras’s, and they kissed. It was enchanting. It was important.
It was love.