They’re close, so close. Alexander has fixed him with such a violently important stare and neither are breathing, not really. Not well.
Finally, Alexander whispers, “You told me you love me.”
Peter can’t speak, so he nods. Yes, he loves him, of course he loves him.
“Still?” Enjolras asks like this is the most important question in the universe.
Grantaire heaves a sigh. “Always,” he almost sobs.
And that’s enough. Enjolras takes a step forward. His hands light on Grantaire’s waist like he’s afraid to hold too tightly, like Grantaire might slip away. Grantaire closes his eyes. He can feel the heat from Enjolras breath, from his body.
And then lips press against his lips and he gasps and opens his eyes again and he’s falling, drowning. He knows this kiss. He missed this kiss. This is like air and now — now he can breathe. He’s spent two whole lives suffocating, asphyxiating, but now — as hands tighten over his waist and his mouth opens into the sweetness of the man he’s always, always loved — he can.
Finally, he can breathe.
(x)
“He was the marble lover of liberty. His speech was harshly inspired, and had the thrill of a hymn. He was subject to unexpected outbursts of soul. Woe to the love-affair which should have risked itself beside him! If any grisette of the Place Cambrai or the Rue Saint-Jean-de-Beauvais, seeing that face of a youth escaped from college.”
What was your favorite moment on set if you could pick one highlight?
- MBF me.
- Must reach at least 10 reblogs.
- I make lists and bold my favs. Some solo promos too if I feel like it.
- yayy go
Les Mis Meme → Two Quotes [2/2]
“Raise the flag of freedom high!”
It seemed to her that she had begun to live in an abyss, and that it was Jean Valjean who had rescued her from it. Her childhood produced upon her the effect of a time where there had been nothing around her but millipedes, spiders and serpents. When she meditated in the evening, before falling asleep, as she had not a very clear idea that she was Valjean’s daughter, and that he was her father, she fancied the soul of her mother had passed into that good man and had come to dwell near her.
When he was seated, she leaned her cheek against his white hair, and dropped a silent tear, saying to herself: “Perhaps this man is my mother.”
