Marius leaves fashion and worrying about it to people like Courfeyerac, who, for all of his political fervor, also hinges on the latest styles as though they were nourishment he needed to live. Glancing down at himself in Rat's clothes, which do cling a little tightly, he finds himself content with how comfortable they prove to be.

"They're great," he tells Rat, looking back up at the other man with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Much better than a pillowcase," he admits, scratching the back of his head, which feels fuller than usual, his hair thicker and more prone to curling at this age. It's odd the way his fingers catch in it as he runs them through his hair.

"So, how's your day going then?"