[There's another blink, there, and then Combeferre dissolves into fond laughter, attempting to somewhat muffle it in a pillow.] Oh, could you then? [He gives Enjolras a teasing grin, now, while fumbling at the table for his glasses.]

I do not generally make such assumptions, you see, but I did rather think that was the case, my love. [And with that, he presses a small kiss to Enjolras' cheek, having found his glasses somewhere in that pile on the table.] I suppose love does make all men a bit foolish in their own way, now that I see it.