(This is a short, sad drabble which I might continue or not. I've just always read stories where E hurts R and I figured I wanted to try it the other way around and see how that works out. This is what came out.)

Heartache

Enjolras couldn't breathe. His whole world was spinning and he felt sick to his stomach. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be true. Grantaire would never do that to him. He had promised him he would never do that to him. He had sworn to Enjolras that he would never hurt him. That he'd always be safe with him. And Enjolras had believed him. Had finally allowed himself to open up his heart. To fall in love. To be vulnerable. After years of denying himself any romance, someone had finally convinced him that it could be worth it to give yourself to someone. To be someone's other half.

He couldn't breathe. He was running as fast as he could across the city of Paris. He needed to get out of that apartment. He needed to get away from Grantaire. After fifteen minutes of running nowhere in particular, Enjolras collapsed on his knees and started heaving. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. But then why did it feel as if his heart was pierced by multiple daggers at the same time? He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever felt this hurt before. He never thought it possible for a heart to break or bleed, but right now, he was sure his heart was scattered into a million pieces.

He was vaguely aware of his phone buzzing and he carefully sank down to the ground. He already had more than ten missed calls and a dozen text messages. Enjolras deleted them all without even reading them. Then he switched off his phone and curled himself into a small ball. He felt like such an idiot. He should've known better. He didn't know how long he sat there in that deserted alley, but he figured it must've been at least quite some time when he realized how his muscles ached and cramped up. With a tired sigh, he pushed himself off of the ground and started walking to the one place where he knew he'd always be welcome. To the one person who'd always have his back.

Tears were readily making their way down his cheeks and his feet felt heavier with every step he took. It all felt so unreal. He still couldn't believe it. Grantaire had been the first person he'd ever dared to give his heart to. He had been his first everything… His bottom lip started quivering as he made his way up the stairs towards his best friend's apartment and when Combeferre finally opened the door after some desperate knocking, Enjolras fell forwards, fisted his hands in Combeferre's shirt and started crying.

"He cheated on me…"

(I might write Grantaire's side of the story as well later on. Please let me know what you think)