“Well it d-mned sure isn’t going to fit me,” Grantaire said
from the other side of the table.
Courfeyrac shook the offending dress invitingly. “It’s true
that Jehan would have made a better Madame Grantaire, but no one would let him
into the party with measles and you’re the closest to his measurments.”
“It’ll complement your eyes,” said Combeferre in a perfect
deadpan. Enjolras glared at him.
“I can’t believe you’re complaining more about the dress
than about pretending to be married to me,” added Grantaire.
“I,” said Enjolras carefully, cautiously, not even slightly
boiling over with wrath, “am capable of prioritizing,”