Life is beautiful, Eponine thought early in the morning when the crisp autumn wind was fresher than any bread served on her plate and the leaves were a beguiling swirl of earthy colours as earthy as the dirt on her feet.
She carried this thought in her mind until evening when her stomach reminded her of her hunger and the leaves and wind appeared to be taunting her. She decided she hated life there and then and resorted to throwing pebbles against a worn-out wall that may or may not have been the exterior of M'sieur Marius' room. When that got boring, she'd walked down to the quaint pond in a pathetic excuse of a garden and sat by it, contemplating the meaning of existence and life and death and the whereabouts of good bread and Marius.
And then again at night-time, she thought again, life is very beautiful, when she caught a glimpse of Monsieur Marius. Except this time the thought had evolved to 'Monsieur Marius is beautiful', but the two were very nearly one and the same. M'sieur Marius was absolutely darling because he smelled better than all the men she knew and he reminded her of genuine, courteous gentlemen and not faux-gentlemen dandies that wielded daggers and called you 'Ponine in aggressive tones that could contain some level of affection but it was just too confusing to think about and- Eponine was reminded why her object of affections had shifted to sweet, pretty Marius. Oh, he was a breath of fresh air as fresh as the autumn wind.
And it was this swell of tenderness for Marius that propelled Eponine to the entrance of his room and sit at the foot of his door. She pressed her ear against the door leading into her darling's abode (oh she did listen to mother harp on cheap romance too much in her glorious, young days) and listened very, very carefully. What she was listening for was unclear- maybe he uttered her name in his sleep like she did his in her sleep, or maybe she was listening for the contact of pen on parchment- a love letter she could intercept. She would intercept anything written by him, anyway, anything she could read when she was lonely and pretend it was written to her. In any case, she only heard breathing (and thankfully only the breathing of one body) but she contented herself with this and matched her breathing pace with his. She huddled by his door, enthralled by the fact that her beloved's body was only a few feet away, separated by a thin chunk of wood parading as a door. In fact, the quality of the door was so poor that it was caving in to her feeble weight.
Before she knew it, Eponine had tumbled into Marius' room, spindly limbs splayed ungracefully on the floor. Gathering herself in a single blundering swoop, her first instinct was to dash out the door to her own apartment for safety. Additionally, her own apartment had a convenient peeping hole overlooking dear Marius' room so nothing much was lost. But it was the intoxicating presence of him that drew her to his sleeping body, like honey drew bees, like –Eponine's mind was whirling- food drew all the hungry peasants (she was still hungry, after all). She took a deep breath, suspended in half disbelief and heady euphoria. She made precarious steps to M'sieur Marius, praying he wouldn't wake up and spoil her reverie.
Eponine was reminded of a tale of old, something about a beautiful woman waiting in slumber for her prince to come. Of course, Eponine would prefer to be the princess but she was happy to take what she could get. Edging to his bed, she crept by his side and observed him with an almost obsessive fascination. He was almost startlingly good looking, so much to the extent that it made her heart melt in girlish fantasies and her knees weak. This was what it was like to be in love. This sweet, wonderful feeling whose warmth that spread around your body like a blanket, better than anything she'd ever felt recently. Eponine was in love; in love with love, in love with the idea of better food and comfortable homes, in love with a bright future, in love with Marius, who was at once everything above. How could no-one feel this exhilaration, when she felt it so poignantly? Why did M'sieur Marius cease to sense her elation and awake, and receive her with fervour she had never known?
The rush of emotion overwhelmed her and caused her to–she had mixed feelings about what she did here, when she reflected later on- climbed into his bed. She knew that Marius was a heavy sleeper, with assistance from her treasured peeping hole, and in this point what little logic she possessed had left her, flown away with the little dust mothballs. Carefully, she shifted her body till no body contact was made, but still close enough to feel body heat. It was no easy feat considering the size of the bed, but none of the two were big-sized to begin with and Eponine was good at being twisty and agile from all those Patron-Minette operations. She told herself she would stay only for a minute and then dart away. Then gradually, she recalled she had no propriety left whatsoever and it was too comfortable to move anyway.
Her eyes drifted to his closed ones, and her sole regret so far was that she couldn't see those deep eyes. One could get lost in that dark abyss. Slowly, she let her eyes close and relished the warmth of the room, the presence of M'sieur Marius, the feel of a mattress made of better quality than hers, and imagined that the two of them were lovers in a world bigger than they could imagine…
Marius awoke groggily with the rumbling of his stomach. There was also this itch on his torso, though he found it odd to have flies in the middle of October; but then again there were flies all time of the year in this dilapidated household. The itch worsened and he realised it wasn't really an itch but the friction of something on his stomach. Freezing in fear, his eyes traveled down slowly in circumspect apprehension, his heart beating wildly.
Eyes adjusting to the darkness, he gradually made out the shape of a lump of dark… something. It appeared disheveled and shadowy and it stretched all the way across his stomach. He squinted at the chasm of darkness, fearing it to be some yet discovered pest or creature. Gingerly he moved his hand to touch the unknown object and found it to be hair. Gulping, he jerked away and the hair moved away from him as well. This was odd for him because he hadn't expected the hair to be attached to anything, in his drowsy line of thought. By this time though he was very much awake and so was the owner of the hair.
The two of them stared at each other. Marius was too shocked to speak, in realization that the girl was his neighbour whose name he could not quite recall- which made the situation even more scandalous. He felt faint. The girl blinked once, twice, her hand still on Marius' chest. He was too numb to even feel it. Eponine was still somewhat reluctant to move.
"Well…" Eponine said, her brain whirring for something. Marius continued to stare at her. Oh, she wished he would say something but it became apparent to her that she would have to do all the initiating in this relationship, but that was alright.
"M'sieur, I didn't know you were this kind of man!" Eponine settled, punctuating her words with the appropriate amount of offended melodrama. In the heat of the moment and in a self-congratulatory act of improvisation, she slapped him- a bit harder than she'd intended, and rushed out the door, but not before grabbing a small piece of bread she'd spotted on his bedside tabletop.
Marius sat dumbstruck on his bad, his cheek reddening. Later in the morning he would look at the hand-shaped imprint left on his cheek, an unwanted validation that all this was not a dream. He would walk out the door (suspiciously broken down) and find a random wine bottle at the top of the stairs. In his shaky sense of logic he would extrapolate that he was drunk and that's why he bedded that pitiful girl- the thought made his stomach churn a little. He hoped nothing much had happened. He groaned at how his friends would tease him- and they did, all trying to decipher who the mystery lady was; the enigmatic lady lover.
Meanwhile Eponine giggled at the scandal of it all, after the embarrassment faded. Lovers, yes, now they could be lovers. They shared the same bed, didn't they? Oh yes, life is beautiful.
Eponine hummed a happy off key tune, awaiting the night, and awaiting Marius' return.
A/N: hehe, so yeah, my first fanfic. Let me know if you guys want more. Actually, doesn't matter, because writing Eponine is kind of a compulsive disorder for me anyway. She lodges herself into my head and I can't get her out. Please review, favorite, pm me sweet words of love, anything! :)
-Elaine