Jan. 25th, 2014

jaimemieux: (A hard student)
Combeferre had been spending many evenings with Sybil, especially since the strange faceless plague had descended over Darrow. Seeing the hospital slowly fill with those affected had shaken even her, the most sensible and competent of nurses. That would have been enough to keep Henri at her side, but doing so assuaged his guilt as well. He hated being useless, with no solution to the epidemic and without a position in the hospital that would allow him to at least comfort the fallen. At least he could comfort Sybil, and in that way do his part.

Jehan, dear friend that he was, had understand all this innately - even the slightest hints of apology for his absence were summarily dismissed. Still, Combeferre did what he could to make up for his absence, and to ensure that his friend was still safe from whatever horror had befallen the city.

“Prouvaire?” Combeferre had returned home from another night spent with Sybil, nudging open the door with his foot, in his hands a bag of pastries from the corner cafe. The morning was still new, so there was a decent chance that Jehan was still asleep, but Combeferre immediately saw him sitting on the sofa. “You’re up early,” he observed with a curious smile. “I have breakfast, if you haven’t eaten."

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Henri Combeferre

March 2017

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