GRANTAIRE + OPEN
WARNINGS FOR ALCOHOLISM, AND MENTIONS OF DEATH Google Doc
Grantaire's hands were shaking as he stared at the bottle of wine in front of him. He'd tried so hard to resist these last few months. And, he had. The thought of those children he would one day adopt with the man he loved more than anything, was a great motivator. He knew, that he did not wish to be like his own father when it came to caring for his children. And, a large part of that motivated him to stop relying on the wine as he once did. And, to get help. Sort of. He knew he probably should have been going to medical more than he had. There were things they could do to help. But, that was still an unusual idea to him. And, the only physician he had ever truly trusted was Joly.
Flexing his fingers, he worked the kink out of his hand, from hours of painting, before reaching for the wine. His fingers wrapping tightly around the familiar glass. And, raising it to his mouth, he needed no glass. The bottle would suffice for his purposes here. The purpose being to forget. For if Eponine could be sent back there. Back to the barricades. Back to die. Then, obviously so could his Apollo. And, that was a world he could not bear to live in. A world without Enjolras was no world he wanted to live in. Or could live in. He was nothing without him. And, the artist knew that in the very depths of his soul.
It took almost no time at all to find the bottom of the bottle. He was already feeling drunker than he once would after merely one bottle of wine. But, he supposed that is what happens when one does not drink for four months after all. He quickly ordered another, and another. Drinking them to forget. To stop feeling. All he felt was pain. Being here was far too impermanent. And, he could not take the idea that at any moment, everything could be taken from him.