Written for Femslash February. I should mention that I haven't seen the new movie yet. I've read the book and seen the musical, but it's been a while so I'm relying on the internet and fanblogs for the details. Also, I am a white American middle-class girl writing a poor French WoC. I tried to avoid being massively problematic but please, if I failed at that do let me know.

I'm not actually certain who owns Les Mis these days, but it's sure as hell not me.


The trouble is, she's nice.

Eponine would love to hate the wide-eyed blonde, would love to despise her for the way she waltzed in and got Marius to pay some fucking attention without saying a single word when Eponine's been trying for years to do the same. She would love to resent Cosette for her pretty dresses and her soft hair and her pale skin, for the way her backbone doesn't show even when she bends over and the fact that not a single one of her shoes has any holes. Eponine wants, no, needs to hate her for reminding her of the shithole she used to call home, of the assholes who raised her - who raised them - and then kicked her out and expect her to be fucking grateful that they remember her name. Eponine would really, really love to hate Cosette.

But she can't.

No one hates Cosette, and at least Eponine's not the only one who wants to. Enjolras wants badly to hate her for distracting Marius from, well, everything really, but Enjolras only cares about his politics and his ideals so he focuses on that. Azelma wants to hate her for all the same reasons Eponine does, plus a general hatred of white people that could rival Enjolras' hatred of the rich. Grantaire wants to hate her because Enjolras does, though frankly Eponine doubts Grantaire actually knows who Cosette is and she knows he doesn't actually care. Hell, if she could get him booze without Enjolras finding out he'd probably declare her his new best friend. Anyway, the point is, no one hates Cosette no matter how much they want to and how much she might deserve it. Really the only person who doesn't want to hate her is Marius, and that's because Marius is too busy being tongue-tied and trying not to stare at her cleavage.

Eponine considers getting a push-up bra, but even during winter sales she can't spare the money and anyway going into department stores when you look like her means getting tailed by security and stopped at the door to have her bags rifled through and knowing there's not a damn thing she can do if someone starts harassing her. She'll take the few scraps of dignity she has left over fancy underwear any day, no matter how much Marius seems to prefer the latter.

Cosette doesn't hang out at the cafe, which would be good except that it means that increasingly Marius doesn't either. Eponine tries to tell herself she doesn't mind, but the lie falls flat within minutes. She starts hanging around his law school, trying to catch him between courses, and hates herself for being so pathetic.

On the third day she runs into Cosette, thankfully without Marius present. Eponine's first instinct is to freeze, and her second is to run, but Cosette calls out to her and her voice overrides both instincts.

"Pardon me, have we met before?" Her voice is still quiet, though these days it's probably due to some ladylike demureness instead of a basic survival mechanism.

"I'm Marius' friend," Eponine says shortly. She doesn't want to have this conversation, doesn't want to see that spark of recognition in Cosette's face, doesn't want to get into their shared history in the middle of the university where anyone could interrupt at any time.

Cosette either notices Eponine's discomfort or genuinely doesn't remember her, because she just smiles and holds out a hand. "I'm Cosette Fauchlevant."

"Eponine. Eponine Jondrette." Never has Eponine been so glad that her parents changed their names and rewrote their entire history when they first moved to Paris. Cosette hasn't pulled her hand back, so Eponine hesitantly reaches out and shakes it, calloused brown hand scraping against Cosette's pampered and pale one.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Cosette says, and she sounds like she genuinely means it. Eponine's learned to read lies in people just like she's learned to judge drunkenness and stone-sober fury, and she doesn't detect anything but sincerity in Cosette.

"You too," Eponine mumbles. Cosette hasn't let go of her hand yet. Somehow, Eponine doesn't object to that as much as she really should.

"I'm new to Paris," Cosette continues. "So you'll have to show me the way, but if you're free I would be delighted to take you to lunch."

Eponine knows she shouldn't say yes. Marius will hate her if he finds out and Azelma will probably never talk to her again and her dad will either try and blackmail her into robbing Cosette blind or kick her out permanently. But Cosette is still holding her hand and the appeal of a decent meal is hard to resist so Eponine shrugs.

"I know a couple places," she admits.

"Excellent!" Cosette says, and means it. "After you."

)(

Eponine really wants to hate Cosette. But she can't. So she falls in love instead. And, by some miracle, Cosette falls in love right back.