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Enjolras didn’t know who to blame for Grantaire’s new hobby. The drunk had taken to sitting at the back of their meetings and shouting, “SOURCE!” whenever Enjolras said anything that did not come straight from his head. He didn’t know if Grantaire actually knew the source material Enjolras had gathered his information from (an impressive feat he would bregrudgingly admit Grantaire was capable of), or if he was being a sassy bastard. Either way, the new habit was grinding on his nerves.
“Source!”
“I KNOW! I get it, Grantaire, source, source, source!!” Enjolras threw his hands into his hair and gave his scalp a good firm yank.
There was very little to be done about the situation. When Enjolras got back to his dorm that night, he plugged in his printer and proceeded to scour JSTOR for every single piece of literature he had ever read or been exposed to in his undergraduate career.
Grantaire sat at the back of the next week’s meeting, howling with laughter at Courf’s new attempts to woo Jehan. The day had been slow for Grantaire, and he was relaxing in the warmth of his friends’ exuberant energy. There was nothing better than a bottle of wine and some good company. Well, maybe Apollo’s approval, but he would first have to experience that before he could pass judgment.
As the meeting was called to order, a red eyed and fierce looking Enjolras took up his usual post at the head of the table to being lecturing. His gaze settled on Grantaire for a harsh and challenging moment before he started hammering out a well thought out speech about ethnography and the marginalized population of their contemporary society.
Grantaire smirked when Enjolras blew into a tirade about colonialism and the archive. He instantly recognized the argument as Stoler’s so he waited for his moment: “SOURCE!” he called, at the end of what seemed to be a paragraph in Enjolras’s structured spiel. A pamphlet was unceremoniously chucked at his head. But no, it wasn’t the usual pamphlet—Grantaire read the heading: Cited Materials of Discussion.
Honestly, Grantaire started to laugh until he realized how thick the pamphlet was. Enjolras had obviously put a great deal of time into the endeavor. He couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed in how his thoughtless cajoling had probably lead his Apollo to sleepless nights staring at databases and furiously scribbling smug annotations into notebook margins. Morbid curiosity had Grantaire looking up their discussion topic and there it was; Stoler, Along the Archival Grain. Sighing, he tucked the pamphlet into his back pocket, musing on how their leader needed to learn to take things less seriously.