"I missed most of it," he echoes with a nod. "Occasionally, I would register, perhaps, some sound, or piece of conversation, or what have you, but... yes. Slept there until I died. As I requested, I suppose." Something entirely too wistful to be a smile briefly crosses his expression as he recalls Enjolras's response to that request, but it's gone as soon as it comes. He takes a short pull from his bottle of wine.

"If you wish-- but only if you wish-- you can tell me about it. Our friends were... as good as men get, I think. I would like to know their final stories. If not now, maybe some day, when it becomes easier to tell them."