#phxlosophxes

“I didn’t ‘steal’ him if he came voluntarily,” the much older man stated sternly, squaring himself so he had his full height as well as his unreadable expression, masked even further by the ever-present sunglasses. “He didn’t have to come.”

“Combeferre, is something wrong?” Jehan asked, sitting down next to his friend. “You’re quiet, like you’re waiting on a prayer. It’s worrying.”

@phxlosophxes

"Sure, what’s wrong?”” Courfeyrac frowned at the other. “Is it bad?”

Montparnasse hardly cared for the confines of Hell. It was true, watching souls suffering in eternal damnation was always a joy, but the Earth had so much more potential. It was still early in the day, and he’d settled in the branches of a tree, looking for passers-by to torment. The only human he’d seen for hours, however, was a student sitting by the base of the tree, deeply invested in... whatever he was writing down. Bored out of his mind, Montparnasse leaned downward, trying to snoop and read over his shoulder. The fallen angel was silent as always, and it was only the slight unfurling of his silver-white wings (to keep his balance) that gave him away, a few feathers accidentally grazing the young man’s shoulder.

Flopping down next to him, Grantaire laced his fingers behind his head. “Sure? I can’t really think of a reason I’d say no, so...” He shrugged as much as his position would let him. 

“What’s the matter?”

"Do you think anyone can see us from all the way up here?" Jehan was looking down from a hotel room window, looking at the tiny ant-sized cars far below and smiling absently. “It’s really high up, come look.”