[Can a man understand another's experience when it is wholly foreign to him? Enjolras attempts it.]
It cannot be for the best if it will prevent you attaining employment. [He's aware this is all still hypothetical. The world of employment is a mystery to Enjolras as well, beyond the work he's managed to find for himself. Perhaps some employers do not mind?
But there is another issue: through some miracle he and Grantaire are friends- and so Enjolras cannot simply let a friend speak so casually of hearing and seeing things. (He holds his tongue on that a while longer, though. He still has to martial his thoughts.)]
[ Grantaire has an incredible skill when it comes to speaking casually of dark things. He speaks flippantly of death and of his own health, and now he doesn’t shy away from speaking so informally of hallucinations.
But he is hesitant despite his easy words. It’s subtle, but he fidgets with those glasses, lets his gaze drift off across the horizon, doesn’t weave his words nearly as eloquently as he usually does. He isn’t proud. ]
Has it prevented me? I haven’t tried yet. Perhaps we should carry on with this conversation later, after I’ve made a true attempt at employment.
You will- [Enjolras begins with his usual passion, then stops. In the heartbeat's pause that follows, he looks suddenly uncertain.] you will allow me to help you, however possible, won't you?
[They are friends of a sort, and this is what friends do for each other, he knows. He does not know how he can help, though. This is beyond his knowledge.]
[ This surprises him. The others have offered him help before for various different problems, grievances or ailments, but this is the first time that Enjolras has offered anything beyond a blunt suggestion.
What surprises him most, however, is how Enjolras’ expression dips into uncertainty. Has Grantaire ever seen hesitation or ambivalence on his face? Perhaps not. Not when it seems so wrong. ]
I will.
[ What can he do but accept? Enjolras doesn’t have to offer this to him, particularly when he doesn't see particularly sure of himself. ]
[ That’s true. Grantaire has, for as long as he can remember, had a very pessimistic view of life in general. Why shouldn’t he? He’s reached for happiness and he’s failed, so he sees no reason to paint life any rosier than it needs be. ]
I certainly do not. I have a handful of hopes, despite what I may say at most times, and the spirits are what keep me in good spirits.
[ He laughs, knowing well that the wine drags him down just as much as anything else if he’s had enough. ]
I don’t wish to waste your time, and no part of you is obligated to help me, but I thought a warning might be in order if you did choose to do so.
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It cannot be for the best if it will prevent you attaining employment. [He's aware this is all still hypothetical. The world of employment is a mystery to Enjolras as well, beyond the work he's managed to find for himself. Perhaps some employers do not mind?
But there is another issue: through some miracle he and Grantaire are friends- and so Enjolras cannot simply let a friend speak so casually of hearing and seeing things. (He holds his tongue on that a while longer, though. He still has to martial his thoughts.)]
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But he is hesitant despite his easy words. It’s subtle, but he fidgets with those glasses, lets his gaze drift off across the horizon, doesn’t weave his words nearly as eloquently as he usually does. He isn’t proud. ]
Has it prevented me? I haven’t tried yet. Perhaps we should carry on with this conversation later, after I’ve made a true attempt at employment.
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[They are friends of a sort, and this is what friends do for each other, he knows. He does not know how he can help, though. This is beyond his knowledge.]
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What surprises him most, however, is how Enjolras’ expression dips into uncertainty. Has Grantaire ever seen hesitation or ambivalence on his face? Perhaps not. Not when it seems so wrong. ]
I will.
[ What can he do but accept? Enjolras doesn’t have to offer this to him, particularly when he doesn't see particularly sure of himself. ]
But I think it may be hopeless.
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Hopeless? I'd put more stock in that opinion if you didn't think the same about everything.
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I certainly do not. I have a handful of hopes, despite what I may say at most times, and the spirits are what keep me in good spirits.
[ He laughs, knowing well that the wine drags him down just as much as anything else if he’s had enough. ]
I don’t wish to waste your time, and no part of you is obligated to help me, but I thought a warning might be in order if you did choose to do so.