A/N: Recently I've taken to creating photosets for different AU scenarios on my tumblr, mostly (completely, really) concerning Enjolras/Éponine. The feedback's been really positive for the most part, which makes me unbelievably grateful. I figured I'd ease back into writing and attach some drabbles to a select few, which is the basis for this collection. Each chapter will feature different drabbles - some modern-day, some from Hugo's era - to go along with the visuals.

I understood how all the flowers He has created are beautiful

Éponine works in the flower shop where, for the last month, a regular customer named Marius would come in and order a bouquet of roses to be delievered to his girlfriend every week; one for each year they've been together. Little does he know that the young florist has feelings for him, and it breaks her heart to see the adoration in his eyes for Cosette whenever he enters the shop. Right next door is the café where Enjolras works. He regularly takes his breaks at the same time as Éponine, and one afternoon she can't help but spill her heartaches to him. He's always been a good listener.

"He always sends roses, every time. It's not surprising, I suppose. Cosette herself is like a rose without thorns. I'm like a… wallflower, ignored and just there. Not even close to being anything like her."

The skies had finally cleared up from the April rain that morning. Éponine walked into the shop for her shift, greeting the owner who was in the corner straightening out the displays.

"A young man came in and placed an order a few hours ago. It's on the counter ready to go. Can you take care of it?"

Éponine sighed. Marius, no doubt. "Of course."

The older woman stilled in her task and watched her with knowing eyes and a faint smile.

The girl was expecting to take in the familiar sight of a dozen roses that she'd begrudgingly grown accustomed to as of late. But there were no roses; only a fresh array of garden flowers… violets and daisies, and oh, it was beautiful. She broke from her momentary reverie and knit her eyebrows as she came closer, the card in the bouquet catching her eye.

'Éponine', it read.

She opened the card, her lips parting in surprise after reading it. She smiled soon after, feeling warmth spread through her entirety, right down to her fingertips.

"If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose,
spring would lose its loveliness."
- E.

Full cover: epjolras on tumblr (/post/41959134098)

* The beginning and ending quotes are from the autobiography of St. Thérèse de Lisieux entitled 'Story of a Soul'.