A/N: Last week (or earlier this week?) I asked Em for a prompt because I was bored at work. Her prompt was "your otp reminiscing".
Any mistakes are completely mine, as I skipped the beta phase because if I didn't upload this now, it probably wouldn't get uploaded. Also, I'm hoping it makes sense, as I'm at work and got distracted about 10 times in the process of writing this.
Anything in italics is in the past.
None of the characters are mine. They belong to Victor Hugo. But you knew that.
Anton Enjolras stroked his wife's jaw, marveling at the smooth skin. He fondly remembered the first time he had ever touched her face.
The brief surprise must have shown on his face, for the young woman had cocked her head and snorted at him, causing him to jerk his hand back.
"What? Were you expecting glass? That I'd break as soon as you touched me?"
"No," Enjolras sighed as he reached back out and carefully laid his hand against her cheek. "I was merely afraid you'd bite me."
An amused grin had graced her features at that comment. Enjolras loved it when she smiled. "But really," Eponine started, leaning her head into his palm, "were you afraid you'd get cooties?"
Enjolras suppressed a chuckle. "I was just caught off guard. For all the time you spend outside, I expected your skin to feel like a raisin."
Eponine let out a laugh that warmed Enjolras' soul. "You know that 'thick skin' is just an expression, right? And only grapes turn into raisins."
Enjolras felt that now familiar warmth seep into his bones. How he had managed to spend the past 50 years of his life with such an amazing and inspiring woman was beyond him. The warm feeling spread through every inch of his body and he lost himself in the comfort of her love.
This wasn't the first time that had happened, of course. No, the first time had been their wedding day.
Enjolras felt his jaw drop as his beautiful bride made her way down the aisle. Her chestnut curls gently caressed her shoulders, the way that he would if he was lucky enough to hold her in his arms. Her brown eyes seemed to soothe his very soul and her lazy smile crept its way into even the darkest corners of his heart.
Coufeyrac his best man, leaned over and gently nudged Enjolras' broad shoulder. "As much as I love you, man, I'm not wiping the drool off your face."
Enjolras quickly closed his gaping mouth and made a non-committal noise. He would have shot his friend a quick glare, but to take his eyes off of Eponine in this moment would have been a sin.
He spent the majority of the wedding ceremony drinking in the sight of the angel in front of him, committing every detail to memory.
Then came the time for the vows. Enjolras had rehearsed his for hours the night before. Not that he had needed to, of course, for Enjolras had always been good at speeches, but because it was for Eponine. Because she deserved all the best things in life. Because he was completely hers, and he would burn this city to the ground if she asked him to. Because, quite simply, he was in love, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
He was jerked out of his romantic musings (when did he become so romantic? He was turning into Jehan!) as a firm hand reached around and grabbed his ass. Enjolras turned beet red when he realized it was his soon-to-be wife and that all the eyes in the area were trained on him.
"Um," Enjolas coughed. That was all he could manage with Eponine's hold on him in front of all their guests.
"Your vows, Mr. Enjolras," Eponine whispered as she released her hold. She gave his ass a small pat and turned to the crowd with a disarming smile. "Sometimes Enjolras gets stage fright."
This got a good laugh from the crowd, and Enjolras' confidence grew. Somehow she always knew what he needed, even if he didn't know what that thing was. Eponine intertwined her fingers with his as he marveled at the woman beside him.
"Well, at least I didn't mess up the I do's," Enjolras began with a chuckle. He looked at the woman he loved and reveled in the love and trust he found in her warm gaze.
Even when he had messed up through the years, Eponine was there to help him through it, just as he had always been there for her. They truly had shared the good and the bad. He was sitting in the front row, cheering as she received her master's degree. She was his biggest supporter when he opened his own law office. She comforted him when he was nervous about retiring, and he held her when they found out they couldn't have children.
Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut. He refused to be sad. Not here. The couple had spent too long grieving their stillborn child. After all, that was long ago, back when his hair still curled in a golden mess. Now it was primarily silver, a fact that always made Eponine laugh.
"My golden boy has turned silver!"
Fifty years of wedded bliss, and her laughter still made him smile, whatever his mood.
"Enjolras." A soft hand found its way to his shoulder. Cosette.
Enjolras slowly opened his eyes with a sigh. That laughter would no longer brighten his life. He felt Marius move to stand beside him, and gave him a small smile as he reached up to squeeze Cosette's hand.
"I suppose I'm ready, then." He stepped forward and leaned down to tenderly kiss his wife's forehead for the last time. "Until we meet again, my love," he breathed against her cold skin.
His fingers skimmed across the polished wood of the casket before he let his friends lead him away. Yes, he would morn her loss, but he would always be greatful for the joy she had brought him for so long.
"Goodbye, Eponine."
A/N: Welllll... I hope that wasn't too awful. Thoughts? Good? Bad? Meh?