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Summary
It was like his rhythmical pulse had been replaced by a dull yet murderous feeling of remorse, every harsh word they had exchanged the night before pounding like venom against his meninges, freezing his blood even more with every breath that he drew. He was on no account prepared for the sight he was faced with, for some reason he was expecting Grantaire to crack a bleary, blue eye open and curl his lips in a sarcastic smile. It was wrong, so terribly wrong for the man to be lying on a hospital bed, his eyelids shut, his skin white like the pillow his dark, unruly curls were spread upon, his body limp and unconscious.
Enjolras let himself fall on the uncomfortable, plastic chair on his bedside before his wobbling knees would deceive him.Written for the Kink Meme prompt: Grantaire is in really bad shape -- really really sick or badly injured, either's fine -- and everyone's worried/scared for him, but (of course) Enjolras freaks out to a level beyond that.