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Grantaire was sprawled out across the sofa, head in Enjolras' lap and currently crying over the death of Jack Twist. Enjolras, of course, found this extremely amusing. He toyed with the brown curls and tried to contain his laughter by tapping his foot until Grantaire sat up, out of daze and all sadness forgotten.
"Marry me."
Enjolras' eyes widened with surprise. "W...what?"
"Enjolras, marry me." Grantaire repeated, grabbing the other mans two hands and holding them to his chest. "I mean, the heartbeat is practically there for you, and I don't want that shit happening to us." Grantaire gestured at the T.V. as Ennis Del Mar sobbed into the deceased man's coat. "I love you. So marry me."
Enjolras smiled and brought Grantaire's hands up to his lips, kissing each individual fingerpad, savoring the way Grantaire's breath sucked in sharply. He kissed the artist's wrists, which were littered with cuts and scars, pausing at each little cut and kissing it individually. "I will marry you someday." It wasn't a conformation, but a promise. "Maybe not too soon," he kissed a particularly ugly scar "but I will marry you.'