Deleted scene, Les Miserables

Today is my birthday; I was hoping to post a fic but unemployment and academic stress have made that plan undoable. I do, however, have a deleted scene from my current WIP, which I've decided to cut from the story because other things need to happen, but which amuses me too much for me to destroy it entirely.

This is the story it's from (Les Miserables, Enjolras/Grantaire, modern British AU), but you don't actually need to read that to get this.

Then his phone rings, and ruins everything.

The things with phones is that now that we have emails and texting, there is really no reason to ever call anyone. The only people who call Grantaire are British Gas, who seem to think that he owns his own boiler and wants to buy a winter cover for it, and his mother, who likes to chat. British Gas called last week, and his mother four days ago. He’s not due another ring for days.

He looks at the phone, which is resting on the kitchen table – too far for him to see who’s calling. It’s probably a wrong number, or someone selling PPI. He could easily ignore it.

But Grantaire is having a good day, and so he finds himself picking up a phone, and giving himself the second heart-attack of the day, because the caller is Enjolras.

Definitely should have ignored it. But then there would be the anxiety over calling him back to ask what he wanted.

Grantaire answers.

“Hello?”

A short silence, and noises of shuffling.

“Hello, Grantaire?”

“Yes, hello?”

“Hello, it’s Enjolras.”

“Hello.”

Well, you can’t argue that they are not at least part British; they’ve definitely got the awkward hellos part down. In the silence which follows, Grantaire starts a bet with himself over whether Enjolras is going to say another hello. ( Read more... )

Deleted scene, Les Miserables

Today is my birthday; I was hoping to post a fic but unemployment and academic stress have made that plan undoable. I do, however, have a deleted scene from my current WIP, which I've decided to cut from the story because other things need to happen, but which amuses me too much for me to destroy it entirely.

This is the story it's from (Les Miserables, Enjolras/Grantaire, modern British AU), but you don't actually need to read that to get this.

Then his phone rings, and ruins everything.

The things with phones is that now that we have emails and texting, there is really no reason to ever call anyone. The only people who call Grantaire are British Gas, who seem to think that he owns his own boiler and wants to buy a winter cover for it, and his mother, who likes to chat. British Gas called last week, and his mother four days ago. He’s not due another ring for days.

He looks at the phone, which is resting on the kitchen table – too far for him to see who’s calling. It’s probably a wrong number, or someone selling PPI. He could easily ignore it.

But Grantaire is having a good day, and so he finds himself picking up a phone, and giving himself the second heart-attack of the day, because the caller is Enjolras.

Definitely should have ignored it. But then there would be the anxiety over calling him back to ask what he wanted.

Grantaire answers.

“Hello?”

A short silence, and noises of shuffling.

“Hello, Grantaire?”

“Yes, hello?”

“Hello, it’s Enjolras.”

“Hello.”

Well, you can’t argue that they are not at least part British; they’ve definitely got the awkward hellos part down. In the silence which follows, Grantaire starts a bet with himself over whether Enjolras is going to say another hello. ( Read more... )