[ He couldn't say for sure what had possessed him to purchase the house, but he had known he'd fallen in love with it as soon as he'd stepped foot through the doorway. His realtor had been prattling on about the 'character of old houses like these' but Enjolras had immediately ignored him, waving the man off and wandering to sit alone in the living room, staring out the windows and admiring their fantastic view and- yes, for all its faults, he had decided to call it home.
A house as old as this he knew would have it's quirks, he'd had to replace some of the piping the first week he'd lived there when one of them had burst- but he had taken these matters in stride. The strange noises, and weirder smells didn't particularly bother him, either. It was only when certain items that he was sure he had left in their usual places began to go missing that he truly began to question.
He'd spoken with Combeferre about it at length, much to his eventual embarrassment, and had promptly dropped the subject of having a haunted house, with the promise to keep it just between the two of them. Still... It had been a suggestion by Jehan- not to him, but he'd overheard a conversation between the poet and Courfeyrac about the inspiring and impulsive fun of word fridge magnets, and, well... thereafter the idea had spawned naturally.
He might have been dreaming something, but it all fled him as it felt as though cold water had just been poured over him, and with a gasp he jerked awake, grimacing at the glare of sunlight and groaning as he tried to reach for blankets that were not there. ]
Petulant! [ He mumbled sleepily, rolling onto his side and curling in on himself as he hauled his pillow out from beneath his head, to pull it over his flyaway, wild gold curls. Too stubborn against the morning light to let it, or the cold rouse him. ]
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A house as old as this he knew would have it's quirks, he'd had to replace some of the piping the first week he'd lived there when one of them had burst- but he had taken these matters in stride. The strange noises, and weirder smells didn't particularly bother him, either. It was only when certain items that he was sure he had left in their usual places began to go missing that he truly began to question.
He'd spoken with Combeferre about it at length, much to his eventual embarrassment, and had promptly dropped the subject of having a haunted house, with the promise to keep it just between the two of them. Still... It had been a suggestion by Jehan- not to him, but he'd overheard a conversation between the poet and Courfeyrac about the inspiring and impulsive fun of word fridge magnets, and, well... thereafter the idea had spawned naturally.
He might have been dreaming something, but it all fled him as it felt as though cold water had just been poured over him, and with a gasp he jerked awake, grimacing at the glare of sunlight and groaning as he tried to reach for blankets that were not there. ]
Petulant! [ He mumbled sleepily, rolling onto his side and curling in on himself as he hauled his pillow out from beneath his head, to pull it over his flyaway, wild gold curls. Too stubborn against the morning light to let it, or the cold rouse him. ]