"So, Mr. Grantaire, you're here for your cat, Enjolras," Joly said, leaning down to open the crate door. He bent low to carefully extract the pure white cat from the crate. "Aww, he's gorgeous. Look at those blue eyes. Aren't you so pretty?"
"He's been a bit down in the dumps lately," Grantaire said, watching the doctor handle his cat. He didn't like it when anyone got too close to Enjolras. Except his neighbor Combeferre, whom Enjolras really seemed to like.
"Has he been eating?"
"About the same as normal."
"He's got a bit of a scar here. Surgery?" Joly asked, gently petting the soft fur, feeling the scar tissue.
"We have matching ones, actually," Grantaire said. "Oddest thing. Here, let me show you-"
"Sir, that's really not necess-"
Before Joly could finish his sentence, Grantaire had pulled his shirt over his head and turned around.
"You can't really see it, it's sort of… Stupid jeans… Hang on."
Joly pursed his lips, watching as Grantaire unbuttoned his jeans and slid the waistband down a few inches. A wicked-looking scar crossed from his hip bone down past the top of his jeans.
"See it?" Grantaire asked.
"…Unfortunately. Sir… can you please put your clothing on?"
"What? Oh! Sorry," Grantaire said, dressing. "So. What's wrong with my cat?"
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2014-02-07 02:16 am (UTC)-
"So, Mr. Grantaire, you're here for your cat, Enjolras," Joly said, leaning down to open the crate door. He bent low to carefully extract the pure white cat from the crate. "Aww, he's gorgeous. Look at those blue eyes. Aren't you so pretty?"
"He's been a bit down in the dumps lately," Grantaire said, watching the doctor handle his cat. He didn't like it when anyone got too close to Enjolras. Except his neighbor Combeferre, whom Enjolras really seemed to like.
"Has he been eating?"
"About the same as normal."
"He's got a bit of a scar here. Surgery?" Joly asked, gently petting the soft fur, feeling the scar tissue.
"We have matching ones, actually," Grantaire said. "Oddest thing. Here, let me show you-"
"Sir, that's really not necess-"
Before Joly could finish his sentence, Grantaire had pulled his shirt over his head and turned around.
"You can't really see it, it's sort of… Stupid jeans… Hang on."
Joly pursed his lips, watching as Grantaire unbuttoned his jeans and slid the waistband down a few inches. A wicked-looking scar crossed from his hip bone down past the top of his jeans.
"See it?" Grantaire asked.
"…Unfortunately. Sir… can you please put your clothing on?"
"What? Oh! Sorry," Grantaire said, dressing. "So. What's wrong with my cat?"
Joly pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.