WHO: Enjolras and Éponine WHEN: Backdated; Afternoon of the 27th April WHERE: Their apartment WHAT: Coming home from an unexpected stay in the hospital RATING: Medium for now - possible talk of violence STATUS: In Progress | Closed
Enjolras winced as he pushed himself away from the wall of the elevator, leaning heavily on Éponine for support. He wasn't quite sure how they'd made it all the way from the hospital to the apartment building and, to be quite honest, the pain medication Dr Watson had given him had made him feel so lightheaded that he didn't remember much of the walk. He knew that he wouldn't have even made it half-way without Éponine, though. In fact, if Éponine hadn't insisted that he go to the hospital in the first place, he might not have still been there at all - that was what Dr Watson had said. He really did owe her his life. He wished he could repay her in some way better than using her as his walking stick. Still, there was just a little way furthur to go until they reached their apartment door and Enjolras didn't want to risk trying to make it on his own, just to end up falling and spliting his stitches. The wound was painful enough as it was, without him making it worst, as both Éponine and Dr Watson seemed to think he was likely to do.
"I'm not too heavy am I," Enjolras grunted, one arm around Éponine's slim shoulders, the other out so he could steady himself with a hand against the corridor wall. "Tell me if I am. I'm sure I can manage," he said, managing to sound more sure than he was.