Chapter Text
It was a cool night, the breeze flowing quickly through the seemingly endless streets and alleys of central Paris. Enjolras fiddled about with the end of his opulent red coat, curling his hand around the plush material. He was in retrospect of the altercation he’d had moments prior. The only things he could things that he were conscious to remember were the flashing images of Grantaire’s tear strewn face, though. The chief wasn’t phased by the words spoken by himself nor Grantaire, but the affect they had given on the latter.
He had been walking about for a while, before anything struck Enjolras as odd. He’d taken a wrong turn, presumably, and was beginning to getting an ominous feel about the place. This wasn’t an alley he knew… It’s edges were tall buildings, the odd one or two possessing a Juliet Balcony, but the others perfectly straight. They were consummately parallel, yet each one appeared more ancient than the previous as he moseyed down. The cobbled ground was a toll to walk on, and could easily be fatal if one were to take a fall –or turn for the worst.
The footsteps then became prominent, eerie and, to a degree, frightening, breaking the silence prior to now. Enjolras, suddenly brought to his surroundings from his worried daze, turned to their location. A silhouette lay dim on against the worse-for-wear building. It was a man of reasonable height, a slender figure and a good posture. And, with a small cackle of a titillating laugh, the shadowed man appeared.
It was Montparnasse. Enjolras knew Montparnasse about as well of the rest of Paris did- not very well. He was a swift serial killer whom left neither traces of his homicide, nor no witnesses alive to tell tale. “Bonsoir, Monsieur.” His voice was enticing, laced with an invite, an invite only a beguiling man could deny. “A pleasant night out, is it not? One that should not be spent alone…” Complimenting the statement, he reached out a coaxing arm for the blonde to take. Knowing it’d be foolish to act other wise, Enjolras took it; falling right into the trap of the perpetrator.
A lugubrious being, was Montparnasse, though it would not guessed so. A deceiving mask of seduction hid his lust for blood and mournful attitude. Montparnasse was but a child, with an age of no more than twenty. A figure most people of his age would long to be. A handsome face was one he possessed, lips of cherries and midnight hair that fell in a charming position, with eyes that were springtime bright, they were a contrast against winter-cool career he’d chosen to take.
In the buttonhole of his threadbare coat laid a single flower, now wilted from a night on his high horse of success. The dandy man’s cravat was tied knowingly, at an angle not too obscure to be questioned, but at a noticeably differentially quirked. Though, to repel against the young image he would otherwise portray, a fine top hat stayed perched upon his head. A lone ribbon tied around it, tattered all around, and fraying at the edges.
He tipped said hat, and with the grasp of the student, began to walk in the direction he had just come from.
“Tell me, M’sieur.” He begun, keeping up the tantalizing role he played. “What’re you doing down here?”
“I…” Enjolras was having a hard time admitting that he was lost. “I wondered down the wrong alleyway, whilst trying to find my way home.”
“So you were lost, Monsieur?” Montparnasse knew full well that his company had gotten themselves in a fair mess. “On your own, at this time? I must say, M’sieur, that isn’t a wise thing to do now, is it?” He kept up his questioning, avoiding an inquisition of his own. Enjolras looked down at the ground, a bashful look upon his sculpture-like cheeks. “One must travel alone at least once in their life,” he tried to climb out of the hole he’d inadvertently dug himself. “And you, yourself, are out alone.” He reminded the younger man. “But I am not afraid of the dangers lurking,” the look Enjolras gave was one that requested an elaboration. “For I am the danger…”