Cold Hands, Warm Art by slightlytookish (wordcount: 4,295) Grantaire has never left his name off anything before, not even the time he emailed everyone a long and rambling rebuttal of one of Enjolras’ speeches, complete with footnotes and a list of suggested reading. At three in the morning. While drunk. So Enjolras is pretty certain that Grantaire hasn’t forgotten to invite him to his exhibition, and that stings more than he would have expected.
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