Beginnings || Enjolras and Combeferre
"Non, I swear it was Locke."
"Who wrote Systeme des Ideés? Non, mon ami, that was Montesquieu. You must be thinking of the Treatises of Government."
Courfeyrac paused for a second, and then smirked. "You know, you're probably right. That would make a lot of sense. Shows how much I pay attention in class. You're smarter than me, 'Ferre."
It was another Thursday in the Musain. Some of the university students, who had just been dismissed from their evening classes, were gathering at the café to relax for the evening, as was ritual for the young people around here. Combeferre had just gotten out a lecture on Western Civilization, which he had enjoyed, but Courfeyrac had evidently found impossibly boring. "Two hours, and I don't think the professor even made his point," he kept saying. Combeferre merely laughed and shook his head at this. They were drinking brandy, neither having a class in the morning, and spent a good amount of time talking about how ridiculous the amount of homework they had was. Eventually, though, Courfeyrac went off to chase after some brunette. Combeferre, not quite minding, cracked open his book.
At some point in the middle of the evening, he noticed a girl standing in the doorway. The people around here were regulars, for the most part, but he had never seen her before. She was too noticeable to have forgotten. He watched her for a second out of the corner of his eye; he didn't know if she was looking for friends or not, but he was intrigued by this newcomer. As she passed, he cleared his throat, getting her attention. "Excuse me, Mademoiselle, are you new around here?"