He didn't want to wait. He didn't want to stay but before he could do much in the way of reacting he was pulled in to a strong embrace. That would have been too much on it's own but then Enjolras spoke. And it wasn't just what he said. It was the way he said it. Like her thrown every second of what had just happened, of yelling in each other's faces out the window. He was acknowledging and accepting what Grantaire had said and that had never been his intention in the first place. But those words broke through the last tenuous hold on his resolve.
One arm lifted, fisted hand pushing against Enjolras' shoulder as though he might of tried pushing him away before his fingers gripped at the material beneath them instead, the first traitorous sob torn from him before he could stop it. How long since he'd even thought about it for this long? He didn't know. He'd been pushing back against thinking about it, against feeling any of it since he'd lost her. And now he had someone else acknowledging it too and he couldn't pretend any more.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The words were barely understood between the stuttered breaths he couldn't get under control and he didn't know who he was apologising to. Enjolras, Adrienne, maybe even himself. He couldn't relinquish the hold he had on his friend even as he tried to stop the tears which had completely taken hold of him.