(Hi guys! I have another short story for you. It'll probably be a two- or three-shot. It's been stuck in my head since forever, and I just had to get this first part out before I go on holiday. Hope you like! Enjoy)
It was the middle of the night. Or maybe even already early in the morning; Enjolras didn't really know. He had been sitting at his table for quite some time and his friends were long since gone. Some of them went home and called it an early night, like Combeferre, Marius and Feuilly. Most of them, however went off to a club to 'dance the night away', like Courfeyrac liked to say. It was a Friday after all, so Enjolras couldn't really blame them for going out and celebrating the start of their weekend. Although he didn't think each weekend needed to be kicked off by drinking and dancing. He could think of much more useful things to do.
Courfeyrac had of course been pushing Enjolras all evening to go with them as well, but there was just no way. Not only did he not care much for partying and drinking; he also had to finish his motivation letter for the internship he hoped to get an interview for. All letters had to be sent in by e-mail before Saturday morning 09.00 AM and Enjolras wasn't even close to finish. His friends would disagree of course, but to Enjolras it had to be perfect; it had to be flawless.
He always worked best when he was alone at the Café, which didn't happen often, because his Amis liked spending their time there as well. His apartment would be fine too – Combeferre was never a problem – but when you had a loud roommate who was due to come home drunk in the middle of the night, one would rather take his work elsewhere to be sure not to be disturbed.
So that was why Enjolras was still writing fervently at three AM in the morning. He was mostly rereading and revising the whole thing; but he just wasn't satisfied yet, no matter what adjustments he made. Deep down, he knew it was probably best to stop and have Combeferre read it over in the morning before sending it off, but he just wasn't happy with it yet. Enjolras was slightly aware of a throbbing pain in the left side of his head that had slowly been making itself known in the course of a few hours now, but he had been able to ignore it. Or he chose to ignore it. Either way, it hadn't bothered him much yet. Although he realized it was getting harder to concentrate on what he was doing.
However, since half an hour or so, his headache had worsened a lot. He was hunched over his table with one hand pressing hard against his left temple. With the other hand he kept typing different words only to erase them and replace them with the words he had used earlier. It was when the words started to blur together and his vision was slightly tilting that Enjolras figured he might have been pushing it too hard. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment; blocking out the bright light that came from the screen of his laptop. It did help a little.
But the letter wouldn't finish itself while he was sitting there with his eyes shut. Stop whining and just keep going, Enjolras said to himself, just finish it, then you can sleep and rest. He forced himself to open his eyes again, but the minute he did so, white hot pain exploded behind his eyes. In the course of just a few seconds, his headache had spiked to heights he'd never thought was possible while remaining conscious. He let out an involuntarily gasp and squeezed his eyes shut again.
He blew out a shaky breath and pressed the back of his hand hard against the bridge of his nose, while his other hand was still pushed against his temple in a desperate attempt to alleviate the sharp pain. He cursed silently and curled in on himself. What on earth is wrong with me? He had never experienced anything like this and it scared him more than a little. He shifted one trembling hand over both his eyes and carefully groped for his laptop with the other. He knew they keys by heart and was able to blindly safe his document before closing the device quickly so that there was no more light in the room except for a forgotten candle on a table in the corner that one of the Amis had forgotten to put out.
Enjolras then slowly shoved the laptop away from him, so he could place both his arms on the table and bury his head between them. This is not good…this is not good at all. He breathed heavily through his nose and silently prayed to whoever was listening to just make it stop.
But it didn't stop. It only got worse. His ears began to whiz and even though his eyes were closed, he felt the world around him spinning. He vaguely remembered Courfeyrac telling him that the worst part of being drunk is that when you close your eyes and try to go to sleep, everything around you whirls so fast, you feel like you're tumbling in a black hole without anything to hold on to. He wondered if this was how it felt. If so, he'd promise himself to never get that drunk in his entire life, because the feeling was horrible.
It didn't even surprise him when his stomach decided to do flips alongside his vision. He groaned miserably and carefully slid down from the chair to the floor, where he curled into a tight ball with one arm tightly draped over his stomach. This can't be happening…what's happening? He knew there had to be a logical explanation for what was going on, but his mind was fuzzy and he was hardly able to form any coherent thoughts. Everything was blurring together and Enjolras found himself wishing he wasn't alone, because he had no idea what to do.
He briefly thought about fetching his phone and call Combeferre or Courfeyrac, but then he remembered that his phone was in the pocket of his jacket and his jacket was draped across a chair on the other side of the room. There was no way he was going to crawl all the way over there; he'd just stay where he was and wait, hope and pray for the pain to go away. He didn't even notice the few tears that managed to escape his closed eyes and slowly trailed down his face.
Combeferre was glad he could go home early. This week had been quite chaotic with the exams he had to study for and the extra shifts at the hospital that he had decided to take. He couldn't wait to get to bed and sleep without any disturbances for the next couple of hours. He knew Courfeyrac and a few of the other boys were planning on going out that night and he had told Enjolras to either take a break and go with them, or call it an early night as well and come back home with him. Enjolras had smiled reassuringly and told him he was actually considering to give the whole 'celebrating the weekend' a chance.
Combeferre could hardly believe what he was hearing, but he couldn't help but feel a little proud of his best friend. He never went out; hardly ever really had fun, so this might be good for him. And even though he would never admit it, the medical student enjoyed the fact that he could spend a couple of hours completely alone at his apartment. As soon as he got home, he changed into more comfortable clothes, grabbed a book and let himself fall into the soft cushions of the couch. He managed no more than ten pages before he was fast asleep and snoring quietly.
He woke up hours later to the sound of someone trying to push the key into the lock but failing miserably. He sighed exasperatedly and rubbed the sleep out of eyes. Then he slowly got up and walked to the front door. He wasn't even surprised when he saw Courfeyrac there, leaning heavily against the doorframe with a large grin on his face.
"Hey there beautiful, I knew you'd still be up waiting for me, you big…big…t-teddy bear", he slurred and he chuckled at his own joke.
Combeferre narrowed his eyes at his roommate and pulled him inside. Drunk out of his freaking mind, Combeferre thought bitterly as he peeked outside the door in search of his second roommate. He frowned when he saw that the hallway was completely empty and turned around to face Courfeyrac, who had flopped down on the couch with a bag of chips and lazily waved the remote at the TV without actually turning it on.
"Enjolras still at the club?", Combeferre asked incredulously when he looked at his watch and saw it was nearly four in the morning.
"Hmm…? Did you say something Teddy?", Courfeyrac mumbled with his mouth full, again grinning sheepishly at his own choice of words.
Combeferre walked towards the couch and pulled the bag of chips away from his friend. He forced himself to stay calm, but was aware of an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I asked you if Enjolras is still at the club? Didn't you go home together?"
Courfeyrac frowned at him and appeared to be thinking very, very hard. Then he shook his head again and clasped Combeferre on the shoulder; nearly falling off the couch as he did so. "You mean Enjy? Enjy wasn't at the club, are you kidding me? Me, Bahorel and R were the last ones to leave tonight…"
Combeferre stared at him in disbelief, but Courfeyrac didn't seem to realize something was wrong.
"You…you must be confused, because he told me he was going home…he's probably already sleeping….doesn't know how to have fun…", he yawned and slid down further on the couch so that he was practically lying flat. "I do, you know…know how to have fun, that is…I always have fun".
Combeferre shook his head and walked over to Enjolras' room. Could it be he had sneaked inside without Combeferre noticing? Well, he had been very tired, so it might just be possible. His heart sank as he flicked on the light and saw the room was empty.
Combeferre turned on his heels and practically ran back to where Courfeyrac was now passed out on the couch. He dug his phone out from under the mess that were Courfeyrac´s legs and immediately speed dialed Enjolras. It rang once, twice and a third time before turning to voicemail. Combeferre pressed his lips together and felt his heart beat a little louder in his chest. He dialed the number again, but still didn´t get any answer.
"You've got to be kidding me, Julien, pick up your damn phone", he whispered. Is he still at the Café? What if something happened to him on the way back? What if he's out there somewhere injured and can't get home. He cursed his own train of thoughts and furiously called Enjolras' phone a third time.
Combeferre was momentarily at a loss for words. The phone was picked up, but it definitely wasn't Enjolras he was hearing. The person on the other side of the phone sounded familiar, clearly just as drunk as Courfeyrac, but there was a certain trace of worry in there too. He frowned when the voice called his name again and then suddenly it hit him: Bahorel.
"Bahorel? What are you doing picking up Enjolras' phone? Is he there?"
There was a short moment of silence.
"Yeah he's here…but I don't think he is doing so good. I'm not sure what's wrong, but he hardly even acknowledges me and he seems to be in pain, although I don't think he's injured…I'm trying to figure out what's wrong, but he practically winces every time I even open my mouth…and he won't speak to me."
Combeferre felt his heart drop to his stomach and glanced at Courfeyrac, who was still out cold. Then he grabbed his keys from the table and stepped out of the apartment; locking the door behind him.
"I'm on my way…could you stay with him until I'm there?"
"Course, 'Ferre, see you soon."
(Yeah, I'm not sure if it's any good, but if you liked it, please let me know and review? Thanks!)