Starter for: @revoluutionaryenjolras Madeline Auclair typically went a different way home, her father not wanting her to get involved or potentially get hurt in the midst of all the riots happening. It wasn’t that he was against the idea of the revolution or that there needed to be change within the parliament and the crown, he didn’t want his only daughter getting hurt or worse, as a collateral. However, today on her way home from the family bakery, a basket of what was left over in hand as she was going to hand it out to those who needed it or wanted some, she took a way home that led her through the city center.Â
She tilted her head to the side as she held the small basket closer to her, and she watched as a group protested nearby. Something had made her pause in her steps, and she took a few more steps in the direction of the group. Among the poor were what seemed to be a group of students, some a little older, and some younger, than she was. The man on top of a carriage was what got her attention. Whether it was the red coat, or the familiarity she got from him, she wasn’t entirely sure. She just wanted to get a closer look, even though her mind was telling her not to, that it was dangerous for her to be there, especially by herself.Â
The ginger furrowed her brows as she looked at the man again, she did recognize him. But it had been a few years since she’d seen him last, after he’d gone off to university he decided to stop visiting his family, and they’d grown apart because of that. “Enjolras,” she said as she briefly looked down to see a small child tugging on the skirt of her dress, and she bent down, letting them take a loaf of bread from the basket.
