Grantaire is hopelessly infatuated with two things: Alcohol and Enjolras.
Or, short poetry about the cynic and his Apollo. Perhaps written by Jehan Prouvaire.
Take me apart with your hands, your voice, your confidence
Let me raise you up, let you raze the person that I am
Build me back up, make me your empire
Make it so there is only "after you" and, "the moment I came to"
When I happened upon you and you showed me that you
Are good.
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