Combeferre had not been doing very well this month, truth be told. Even in the middle of the happiness that he had found, he had realized that soon it would mark a year since Enjolras had left them. The thought weighed heavy on his mind, and the recent disappearance had not helped.

However, when he smelled the food drifting out from Feuilly's room, he did poke his head in with a smile.

"Are you having some sort of party? You should have said. I could have brought something."

Poptarts. He could have brought poptarts. It's better he didn't know, really.