Snowed in [For Henri]

[adifferentlife]

Two days and Sybil is more than tired of this place. She had packed enough clothes to last the three days they would be there, but being snowed in meant that she had loaned out much of it to friends. The suite that had seemed so large their first night now seemed cramped, even more than her training quarters had. That morning Rene had returned rather racously, and now Sybil sought silence in the bedroom. She also needed something to wear, her simple day dress tired and worn after a full 36 hours.

Her own bag was empty other than something she had hoped to wear for Henri on a more romantic night. That night had never come to pass, and now she found herself forced to go to his bag in the hope of a shirt or something that she could slip on and still be decent in the outer rooms. She pulled a button down shirt out of the bag, pleased at the size, and thinking it would do well over a pair of tights. It was only when she went to hold it up against her that she saw the box that had tumbled out of his bag.

Tempting, she can't help but crouch to pick it up. Pandora's box, perhaps, yet she opened it anyway. What she saw inside surprised her, the brightness of the diamonds both unexpected and welcome. Had he meant to propose? She stood, still in her day dress, staring at it, unable to do anything else.

Comments

[adifferentlife]

“Then we should likely tell them quickly,” Sybil says, resigned but happy. Rene is what he is, and as often as she sighs at him, she does hold him in esteem. He is a good person at the heart of it, and one of Henri’s friends, which makes him all the more special.

Bowing her head at the brush of his lips against her hand, she glances up to see Henri’s eyes. “And be thankful there are no telephones that work up here.”

[jaimemieux]

Both men laugh as they exchange a look. Courfeyrac offers Sybil a wink, and without waiting for an invitation, he plucks away the bottle of champagne and brings it to the side table, where he sloshes a decent amount into a drinking glass. For all he loves his friend, Combeferre has had quite enough of the man. He wants to spend the rest of the afternoon in his fiancee's arms. Starting now.

“Courfeyrac.”

He looks up with wide eyes full of innocence. “Mm?”

“Drink that quickly, will you?”

[adifferentlife]

Sybil tries to bite back her smile but isn't able to manage it. It tugs at the corners of her mouth, and she nips at her lip. She agress with Henri entirely, though they haven't spoken aloud. What Sybil wants is to spend some time with her new fiance.

"Perhaps we toast and then you can go rejoin those who are here?"

[thepaladin]

For once in his ridiculous life, Courfeyrac willingly takes the hint. “Yes! Yes, naturallement. The two of you have business to attend to.” He cannot resist the wink as he clinks his water glass against their flutes. “To the kindest, most sensible couple that Darrow has surely ever seen. Congratulations, mes amis.” As promised, he finishes his champagne in a single swallow.

“And to prove just how much I love the both of you, I will keep your houseguests occupied for, say, the next hour or so.”

Combeferre blushes anew, but he smiles. “Thank you, Rene."

[adifferentlife]

Her own cheeks are pink as well, but she nods. It is kind of him, and the time with Henri is exactly what she wants.

"Thank you Rene." Sybil takes a sip when he toasts, her free hand in Henri's still. "You are a good friend."

[jaimemieux]

“The very best.” Courfeyrac places his hand over his heart. “Farewell, ma chere, mon ami. And my deepest condolences - pardon, congratulations - to you both.” He hands Combeferre his glass, and Henri has no choice but to take it, watching Courfeyrac go with long-suffering fondness.

“Well. That was…unexpected."

[adifferentlife]

“Yes, and no,” she said with a sigh though she no longer looks resigned. There is much that she has come to expect from Rene Courfeyrac, his ability to show up when least convenient and most entertaining (for him) one of them. “I suppose we’re lucky Gavroche is not snowed in as well, or we would never have had enough peace for this.”

Sybil holds out her hand, the ring simple and beautiful on her finger. Unsure of what else to say she turns to him, a kiss better than any words.

[jaimemieux]

“Le bon Dieu,” Combeferre groans at the very thought. But such concerns are swiftly chased from him by her sweet kiss. All he wishes to do now, more than anything in the world, is kiss Sybil until they are both senseless. “I love you very much, ma cherie,” he whispers, cupping her face to kiss her again, deeply and with more purpose now.