What might have been another peaceful day
Javert stretched and yawned lazily. Saturdays have never truely been restful for him; even when he was not working, his mind had always managed to stray to the subject. Being dead and unemployed certainly had its advantages. M. Valjean had left for the day, saying he had to make some arrangements for the upcoming wedding, which Javert had accepted without protest. This left him plenty of time for absolutely nothing.
After two hourse of the 'nothing', Javert had forced himself through one of the books remaining from the Sorting, consumed several cups of tea, and was begining to feel rather lonely. Good excuse or not, he found himself missing the man.
An hour later, Javert began to worry. There was no logical basis to this; after all, no time had been specified for his return. Now, he paces around the flate, brow furrowed, wondering whether he should be so concerned.
After two hourse of the 'nothing', Javert had forced himself through one of the books remaining from the Sorting, consumed several cups of tea, and was begining to feel rather lonely. Good excuse or not, he found himself missing the man.
An hour later, Javert began to worry. There was no logical basis to this; after all, no time had been specified for his return. Now, he paces around the flate, brow furrowed, wondering whether he should be so concerned.