Do a story of Courfeyrac pretty pls?


Everything about Courfeyrac is a fire.

His friends are warm where his hands touch them, where his smile shines in their direction; his energy spreads through a room, through a crowd, like smoke through a house; he spits words like sparks, meant to ignite; his anger is an inferno, he throws a charter into a fireplace and the flames reflected in his eyes are just as real as the ones eating away at the pages.

And his friends- his comrades, his family– can only burn brighter in response.

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