Javert Musings
So this was how love worked. Javert mused as he watched Valjean sleep. This caring for one another, this…being together no matter what. It had been a new idea for him, one he had never spent for than five minutes in his life contemplating. Those five minutes had ended in the decision that nope, it wasn’t for him and never would be. Besides, as far as Javert could tell, at the time, marriage and partnership was an annoyance, just someone there to tie you down, keeping you from achieving anything. Of course, as he was slowly finding out, he had been wrong. Of late he had found that he had been wrong for most things in his life. Of course his this-close-to-being-a-saint lover hadn’t rubbed it in his face. It partly annoyed him and he was partly grateful for it. He was certainly grateful for the being pulled out of the freezing river stunt that Valjean had pulled off, real life saver there.
But still, love, it niggled him and he couldn’t place his finger on it. What was he supposed to feel? There were no flutterings in his stomach or beatings of his heart as he had grown up learning were the tell tale signs of love…or was that infatuation? Might have been the later. What did he think of when he thought of Valjean? An annoying ex-con who kept him running around France for twenty years. Of course Valjean would answer by saying, “it was your own choice Javert that kept you following me. You could have left me alone you know, but did you? Nooo, you had to go and be obsessive and over achieving.” He would then kiss him and return to whatever book he had been reading before the interruption. Javert felt a warmness spreading through his chest, a contentment yet uncontainable happiness all at once. He scowled, it wasn’t the first time he had felt that, no, he had felt it before with Valjean. He let a smile run across his face, yes, he had found it, that was what love was supposed to feel like.
fini
But still, love, it niggled him and he couldn’t place his finger on it. What was he supposed to feel? There were no flutterings in his stomach or beatings of his heart as he had grown up learning were the tell tale signs of love…or was that infatuation? Might have been the later. What did he think of when he thought of Valjean? An annoying ex-con who kept him running around France for twenty years. Of course Valjean would answer by saying, “it was your own choice Javert that kept you following me. You could have left me alone you know, but did you? Nooo, you had to go and be obsessive and over achieving.” He would then kiss him and return to whatever book he had been reading before the interruption. Javert felt a warmness spreading through his chest, a contentment yet uncontainable happiness all at once. He scowled, it wasn’t the first time he had felt that, no, he had felt it before with Valjean. He let a smile run across his face, yes, he had found it, that was what love was supposed to feel like.
fini