Gavroche loved Lawrence. There was no other way to say it, he really did. He was alive, his sister was alive, Enjolras was with them, and they had a comfortable home, with proper food every day and a bed that was all his. Being in the future, in a world of magic, that was disconcerting, and the kid was grateful to Kol for finding him when he did and taking him home. And for the cake. But the most important things, the people, that was what truly mattered. Magic, eh, he'd figure that part out later.
He was practically bouncing on the bed when Enjolras knocked, and he immediately made himself settle down, because he was pretty sure jumping with his shoes on like that wasn't actually allowed. Probably. Eponine might have allowed him to get away with it, but Enjolras was clever and educated and possibly expected civilized behavior from him. So he jumped off the bed and opened the door with a giant, if somewhat cheeky, grin.
"Hi!" It felt good, hearing French in this place, where everyone seemed to speak English. Eponine had promised him that he would learn it too, that some magic would help, but she wanted him to settle a bit first. "You can have all the minutes, all of them, ever, can I help with something, is there stuff to do?" The words tumbled out of his mouth so quickly as Gavroche looked up at his hero with bright eyes. That was one of the other great things about Lawrence, the way Enjolras and his sister were with each other. Gavroche wasn't stupid, and he saw a lot, and he saw the looks that went between the two. Quite what it all meant, he wasn't sure, but he preferred those smiles his sister had aimed at Enjolras than Marius.