A/N: Please forgive me; I know it's been a month and some change since I updated this! But here's the last letter. I was kind of procrastinating because ending this is hard, considering I could write E/R forever, but sometimes characters have a mind of their own. Thank you so much to anyone for reading, reviewing, or even scrolling through bits of my first story; it means a lot. (Also I am not Victor Hugo).

Grantaire. I love you.

Marius was right; I have been suppressing feelings stirred by the revolution. I love you.

That phrase, those three words, seem to burst from me now and punctuate every beat of my heart.

I love you.

The more I write it, the less I feel. I love you, R.

Yes, I have been alone with your flask tonight. Forgive me if my hand seems shaky. It's okay, I love you.

Why, oh why didn't I tell you? I'm so sorry R, so so sorry. I could see daily the pain my distance caused. But I was such a different man then; a boy, really. Wrapped up in the republic when I should've been wrapped in your embrace...

I love you.

That's the only feeling I've really had since you tried to save me. But you can't save a person when they don't really know what their danger is. And with you gone, I found mine.

We should have died together, hand in hand.

None of this makes sense, it's all tumbling out at once, and I write as it falls.

Forgive the tear stains on the paper, for you see, I love you.

And you will never answer these letters.

That truth finally crashed into me today, and I left everyone in a hurry. I locked myself in the ruins of this cafe and found your old stash. I've refilled this flask nine times and this letter had to be written eventually, because it is the last.

Because I love you. I always have.

I need you. Again, I always have.

And these letters were clearly a deranged way of attempting to have what I neglected, but after the fifth refill, I realized there was only one way I could finally have my forbidden fruit.

For I love you, so much. It is consuming me; and I love you, and this one sided correspondence will never be enough. It did help for a while, but

I am in love with you, Grantaire.

I will leave this where Marius can find it; he will do well in my stead.

I will see you in the morning. I love you so much, R.

-E