[ It's an uncomfortably reasonable argument and therefore he hates it. Enjolras' burrow is furrowed in angry contemplation while they sit in terse silence. ]
...Would I actually be able to come back? Or, I guess, would it be "dealt with"? You also make it sound like it's a constant, active threat.
[ Grantaire sighs, adjusting the hat which had started to itch as the sweat gathering around his scalp was drying. Seeing no reason to sugar coat this situation a bit, he replies honestly. ]
I don't know. It is a matter of the who and therefore the why of why you are being targeted that determines how constant this threat will be. Is it regarding an upcoming election? Is it about a specific platform? Or about someone you love? Is it personal? I have no idea. My paycheck doesn't need to know, and in fact is paid to someone who does not know my name or appearance, for similar reasons.
[ He frowns and encourages the angry man to move out of this alleyway; the crescendo of distant siren whirring making him remember that the sounds of gunshots attracted attention. ]
the assassin's equivalent of a small child having a meltdown in a target
[ The quickly-approaching sound of sirens does little to move him; Enjolras' crossed arms stiffen and he locks his knees as if trying to make himself immovable. ]
So there's no guarantee fleeing would be any different than if they had been successful and taken me out? In that case, I'll just take my chances.
There's no guarantee with hardly anything when it comes to human nature. [ A scoff and he clicks his jaw. ] And yet there you go trying your best to change the world anyway. That's the most contradictory and self-serving excuse you've made yet, and that's coming from a cynic like me.
[ Grantaire glares at Enjolras, getting fed up with his dawdling. He wasn't just trying to get himself killed, he was going to get R killed too and unlike the stubborn boy, he wasn't ready for that. ]
Of course there's a difference between your disappearance and your death.
[ Enjolras' nose flares with a sharp exhale of breath, that rageful fire reigniting in his eyes. ]
It's not "self-serving" you yellow-livered prick! I'm not going to turn tail on your half-assed maybe. I don't know what you get out of me fleeing, or-- [ He pulls back a moment, eyes narrowing with a vindictive, acidic suspicion. ] Or if this is somehow what you've really been paid for, but if you have an issue with me staying, you are more than welcome to fuck right off. No one's asked you to stick around and lecture me!
If I wanted to lecture you, I would cite examples of how your energy is wasted on what you hope to accomplish, of what you're trying to change. But I'm not, I'm doing the fucking opposite. I'm trying to keep your dream alive by keeping you alive, you arrogant fuck.
[ He points at Enjolras squarely, putting emphasis on what he's here for. What the hell was this going to take to get this man with a death wish out of Paris? he wondered vaguely. But he was too committed at this point to back down. ]
bitch you ain't gettin me to no secondary location
You're completely full of shit. You honestly want me to believe you're invested in my well-being and you mock me for trying to do something good with my life in the same breath?
[ Enjolras scoffs, harsh and haughty; he looks back behind him into the alley as if too annoyed to even look at the other man for a moment. ]
God, I bet you haven't done a single worthwhile thing in your life, you spineless hypocrite, and you're still going to sit there and try to tell me what actually matters? If you're so worried about what your employers will do, go ahead and run, but I'm not going anywhere with you.
I do expect you to accept it. Because you are bigger than what you do or do not accomplish! Like hell I know what matters, but I know what I’m capable of and I know what I’m not.
[ The sirens are in the street closest to the alley and he hears a car door slam. Red, flashing lights make him look even more grim, but he won’t leave without Enjolras. An immovable object has been moved unstoppable force, it seems. ]
Are you willing to trust me just a little? I don’t want you happy I want you living.
no subject
...Would I actually be able to come back? Or, I guess, would it be "dealt with"? You also make it sound like it's a constant, active threat.
no subject
I don't know. It is a matter of the who and therefore the why of why you are being targeted that determines how constant this threat will be. Is it regarding an upcoming election? Is it about a specific platform? Or about someone you love? Is it personal? I have no idea. My paycheck doesn't need to know, and in fact is paid to someone who does not know my name or appearance, for similar reasons.
[ He frowns and encourages the angry man to move out of this alleyway; the crescendo of distant siren whirring making him remember that the sounds of gunshots attracted attention. ]
the assassin's equivalent of a small child having a meltdown in a target
So there's no guarantee fleeing would be any different than if they had been successful and taken me out? In that case, I'll just take my chances.
no subject
[ Grantaire glares at Enjolras, getting fed up with his dawdling. He wasn't just trying to get himself killed, he was going to get R killed too and unlike the stubborn boy, he wasn't ready for that. ]
Of course there's a difference between your disappearance and your death.
no subject
[ Enjolras' nose flares with a sharp exhale of breath, that rageful fire reigniting in his eyes. ]
It's not "self-serving" you yellow-livered prick! I'm not going to turn tail on your half-assed maybe. I don't know what you get out of me fleeing, or-- [ He pulls back a moment, eyes narrowing with a vindictive, acidic suspicion. ] Or if this is somehow what you've really been paid for, but if you have an issue with me staying, you are more than welcome to fuck right off. No one's asked you to stick around and lecture me!
no subject
[ He points at Enjolras squarely, putting emphasis on what he's here for. What the hell was this going to take to get this man with a death wish out of Paris? he wondered vaguely. But he was too committed at this point to back down. ]
bitch you ain't gettin me to no secondary location
[ Enjolras scoffs, harsh and haughty; he looks back behind him into the alley as if too annoyed to even look at the other man for a moment. ]
God, I bet you haven't done a single worthwhile thing in your life, you spineless hypocrite, and you're still going to sit there and try to tell me what actually matters? If you're so worried about what your employers will do, go ahead and run, but I'm not going anywhere with you.
no subject
[ The sirens are in the street closest to the alley and he hears a car door slam. Red, flashing lights make him look even more grim, but he won’t leave without Enjolras. An immovable object has been moved unstoppable force, it seems. ]
Are you willing to trust me just a little? I don’t want you happy I want you living.