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It wasn't until the rest of Les Amis have left Enjolras' apartment that he realized one had remained. Grantaire sat, almost hidden from view, behind a sofa on the floor, staring thoughtfully down the neck of a bottle.
Enjolras sighed. He'd thought it'd be enough if he allowed his friends to use his rooms for their stupid party, without him having to clear them out by himself.
«Hey», he softly called, «party's over.»
Grantaire barely lifted his head.
Enjolras sighed again and walked over to where he was sitting. He sat down with Grantaire and stared at his bottle also, in case there was some deep secret about life to be discovered.
A few moments passed in silence.
«What do you see?», asked Grantaire.
Enjolras shrugged.
«I see your bottle.», he answered.
«What else?», asked Grantaire again.
«I see that it is almost empty. I see that you peeled off the label. I see that there's a crack at the bottom.»
Grantaire nodded, laughing silently.
«What do you see?», Enjolras asked.
«I see nothing.»
«Nothing?»
«Nothing at all.»
«Never?»
Grantaire lifted his head and looked at Enjolras for the first time.
«No. Not never. Sometimes I see things.»
Enjolras felt his breath quickening. Maybe now was the time to turn Grantaire, to show him he was more than he believed himself to be.
«What do you see then?», he asked.
Grantaire shook his head, grinning.
«I see things», he began.
«I see things of immeasurable beauty. I see hope, a future for me. There's a glistening light, there's people dancing and song is in the air. Rivers that were merely water are now honey and milk as in the old legends. There are no outcasts. There are no poor. Everything is light.»
Grantaire turned his gaze on Enjolras again.
«Is this what you see when you talk of a better tomorrow?», he asked.
Enjolras tried to order his thoughts again. To hear such words of poetry from Grantaire of all people! He knew that there was more to the drunkard than cynicism and alcohol, but that much emotion surprised him.
«It… might be, I think. Not in such flowery terms, but it might be. A better tomorrow.», Enjolras said.
Grantaire nodded to himself.
«It is what you see when you talk of it. And this bottle is what you see when you look at me.», he murmured, matter-of-factly.
Enjolras turned his head to the ground in shame.
«Can you widen my horizon?», he asked.
Grantaire smiled and whispered: «There's no horizon too wide for you.»
He leaned closer. Enjolras could feel the warmth radiating off him. There was a hand on his neck, pulling faintly. He realized that Grantaire's face was suddenly an awful lot closer to him.
«Just… hold still…», the drunkard whispered.
And Enjolras did.