A/N: Hi! So I'm new to the fanfiction writing universe, so please be nice to me. I'm giving this a shot, I guess? Also this is a modern au because I couldn't bare to write the barricades. Review, if you want!
The blonde boy continued to walk in the rain. He had a bright red umbrella, but it didn't help him escape the Parisian rain. He was clearly a student, as one could tell by the red backpack he slung over his back, a gesture that on anyone else would look lazy, but the boy seemed to manage to make it seem elegant. Golden curls framed a handsome face, with a strong jaw and a permanent fire in the eyes that told of a determination and a passion.
A dark haired girl walked in a different direction, but to the same destination as the boy. She walked with at a pace that implied she wished to get there quickly, but each step showed a dread of actually reaching where she was going. She had no umbrella, and her dark hair was plastered to her face by the rain. A million thoughts ran through her mind at once, but a common theme connected them. A bitterness in her thoughts that aged her in a way years never could.
They collided within minutes. Two of them caught up in their own thoughts, one filled with wistful wonderments of revolution, the other worrying about a younger brother.
"My apologies, mademoiselle," the boy said, holding his hand out to the girl he had knocked to the floor in his absent-minded walking. The girl took it gratefully, but avoided his eye as she dusted herself down.
"Not required. It takes two to cause a collision," the girl replied softly, more to the ground then to him. He couldn't help but nod in response to this, and found himself noticing how drenched the girl was.
"Pardon me, but you are absolutely soaked," he commented.
"Take this," he held out his umbrella to her. She looked at it as if it was on fire and refused immediately.
"I couldn't, monsieur," she shook her head profusely and started to walk the way she was going. He jogged up to her.
"Please, mademoiselle," he said, blocking her from walking past him. She looked at him, exasperately, and snatched the umbrella from his hands.
"If you insist, monsieur," she said, with a touch of disdain in her voice. She did not deserve this courtesy, she was not of the upper-class like this boy clearly was. Without a look in his direction, she continued on her way to school. He stared, almost dazed after the red in a sea of dark blues and browns.
"Eponine!" a voice called behind the dark-haired girl. Her heart swelled at the cheerful voice, and spun around on the balls of her feet, her long hair whipping around, spraying water in all directions.
"Monsieur Marius!" she smiled widely. He jogged up to her, and took her umbrella in his hand, shifting it to shelter them both. It was little gestures like this that made her melt.
"If I'd known you'd had an umbrella, I would have found you sooner," he joked. His smile caused little dimples to appear at the corners of his eyes, causing them to shine an even brighter blue. A blue that managed to highlight the freckles the were spattered all over his face.
"You would have, had you been on time this morning," she scolded lightly, trying her hardest not to let on that all she could think of were his lips.
"I'm sorry!" he surrended, holding up his hands in defence as she took her – the blonde boy from earlier's – umbrella from him, as they had reached their school. She ignored the fact he hadn't noticed she was dripping wet, pushed down the feeling of disappointment that he had probably forgotten about her that morning, and that was why he hadn't been on time. She pushed it down and focused on his eyes on her, on how he lit up her world with a smile.
"Thanks for helping me with my homework yesterday, by the way," he grinned, falling into step beside her again. She couldn't help but grin back. Of course, it was more like she had done his homework while he played video games, but she didn't care. Time with Marius was time with Marius.
"Anytime," she said softly. This was half the reason she loved him as much as she did. He was always so kind to her, making her feel welcome. He acknowledged her efforts, never just brushed her off. She was too busy lost in the sound of his voice that she had forgotten to hear the actual words.
"You know Courfeyrac, right, Ep?" he asked. She winced at the nickname, and then nodded. Everyone knew Courf. He was the centre of the school, he was active, he was friendly. He was Eponine's brother's idol. Gavroche loved the guy, which led to Eponine's acquaintance with him.
"He's invited me to hang out with him and some of his friends at a café tonight, so I won't be able to study. But hey, you could come hang out at the café too!" he suggested. Her stomach dropped. She had been looking forward to that since the minute she left Marius' house the previous night, but she managed to nod and smile. She knew full well she'd try to go to that café for him. As much as she feared being judged by Courfeyrac's friends.
"Maybe," she forced out. He grinned widely, before checking the time.
"Sorry, Ep, gotta go!" he waved and jogged off. She really hated him calling her 'Ep', but she wouldn't dare to call him out on it. It was a term of affection, and although she loved whenever Marius expressed affection toward her, she couldn't help but feel delightfully friendzoned everytime he said it.
"Enjolras!" a blonde boy in a red jacket was greeted by a dark haired friend. Enjolras, like all his friends, went by his last name. No-one questioned it. The one who greeted him, who was walking towards him was called Grantaire. He had dark rings under his eyes, telling tales of late nights where he would stay up partying. Enjolras and Grantaire had an odd relationship. Enjolras often held Grantaire and his ways in disdain Grantaire hardly ever showed up for school, and was nearly always hung over. He showed no interest in schoolwork, and it seemed he had no passion for anything. Enjolras didn't particularly like Grantaire, but he tolerated him.
"Grantaire," Enjolras replied. Enjolras was never openly kind to Grantaire. But when Grantaire was drunk after a night partying and too intoxicated to return to his parents, it was Enjolras' door he knocked on.
"You're coming to the café after school, right?" Enjolras asked Grantaire. He wasn't sure why Grantaire even attended the Musain with the rest of them. The Musain didn't serve alcohol, and all the boys did there was discuss how they themselves could improve the world, a cause Grantaire didn't believe in. But still the drunk insisted on coming, and Enjolras could hardly stop him. Grantaire simply nodded as another dark haired boy approached them.
"Hey Courf," Grantaire greeted him. Courfeyrac gave him a smile, then turned to Enjolras.
"'Jolras, I've invited that guy… Marius to the Musain tonight. That okay?" he fell into step with the two boys as they walked to class. Enjolras nodded.
"The more the merrier. Can't say I know him, though," he replied.
"You will. He's great. Anyway, I've got to run!" Courfeyrac dashed off in the opposite direction.
"Still chasing skirt, Courf?" Grantaire called after him, teasing. Courfeyrac was notorious for him flirtatious way with the ladies, always chasing a different affection every week. If only he knew what Grantaire knew.
"He hasn't a clue," Grantaire muttered under his breath to Enjolras, who didn't hear him.
Eponine waited by Marius' locker, like she did everyday. It was finally the end of the day, which meant she would walk Marius home, letting him think she lived in that direction before doubling back and actually going home. Her walks with Marius in the afternoon were one of her favourite things on the planet. Her phone buzzed at her side. She quickly checked it and her heart leapt when she saw Marius' name flash on the screen. Unfortunately, it was a text telling her he wouldn't be able to walk home with her. She felt her stomach drop. She turned away from his locker numbly and held back a tear. She carried the red umbrella in her hand awkwardly; it had stopped raining at that point. She would have to find the boy and return the umbrella, but she didn't feel like doing that right then.
That evening, Enjolras turned to Courfeyrac.
"I thought you said this Marius was coming?" he said, stirring a coffee. Enjolras was the only one who drank coffee at the Musain in the evenings, purely because he hardly slept. The rest had enough common sense to just order something to eat because otherwise they would be up all night; although that was Enjolras' goal. He currently had a book out on the desk, and was doing homework, or revising. He always was.
They were all seated at their usual table in the corner of the small café. They all liked the Musain for several reasons (except Bahorel, who didn't really have a preference when it came to coffee places), some of which was basically "Because it's not Starbucks,"; which was Grantaire, Combeferre and Enjolras' main interest in the place. Enjolras also believed in supported the local sole trader.
"He is. I guess he's just late," Courfeyrac replied smoothly, as he stole some of Jehan's cake. Jehan, or Jean Prouvaire as his was really called, was an interesting character. He had long blonde hair, so long it was wound into a plait. He had been teased about it when he had first joined the school, but Enjolras – who leapt at any opportunity to help one who was injusticed – and Courfeyrac – who just hated to see the sunshiney boy sad – befriended him. It was hard to dislike Jehan. He was the only one in the group who had a nickname. He had several what were percieved as 'girly' traits and hobbies. He loved flowers, and writing poetry. But no-one bothered him for it. If the boys cared about style, which they didn't really, they would have noticed Jehan's awful dress sense. He dressed like someone from the past decade.
And Marius was late. He came through the doors of the Musain minutes later.
"Sorry, guys," he said, pulling up a chair. Enjolras glared at him, and returned his attention to his book. Courfeyrac noticed this, and made an apologetic look at Marius. He took out a newspaper and turned it to face Marius. He finished his piece of cake and patted Jehan's hand as a thank you (causing the boy to blush profusely, although he seemed to do that all the time anyway).
"So here's what's going on…" he led, and then informed Marius, in about two hours, of every single social injustice that had been done to people within the last month. Or, he had started it, knowing Enjolras would join in. And he did.
"'Ponine?" a voice came at Eponine's door. It was her sister, Azelma. The pair were home alone. Their mother was out looking for their brother, Gavroche, something she had taken to doing, although she hadn't cared for 'Vroche when he had been at home. Their father was down at the pub, most likely getting drunk to an extent where the girls would lock themselves in their rooms and wait 'til morning.
"Yeah, 'Zelma?" she called out. Azelma entered the room timidly. You could see that she was Eponine's sister, that much was certain, but Azelma was the less prettier one of the two. She often, not to Eponine's knowledge, of course, tucked her hair up in a newsies cap, like Eponine always did when they were at home. To get the hair off the back of her neck, that was what Eponine always said. Azelma liked to imagine she looked just like Eponine when she did it. Although the hair peeking out of the hat was a different shade of brown, and the face that wore the hat looked more like the father than the mother, it made her smile.
Azelma was clutching a tattered copy of To Kill A Mockingbird. When Eponine layed eyes on it, she knew what Azelma was going to ask, but she let her ask it anyway.
"Can I read in here?" she asked gingerly. When the house was empty, and the small walls around them felt much bigger, Azelma and Eponine liked to read in the same room.
Eponine looked up at her little sister and nodded. She couldn't stop herself from smiling at her little sister reading her favourite book. Eponine loved To Kill A Mockingbird; she couldn't count how many times she had read it. Eponine herself was reading, or trying to read Lord Of The Rings. It had an amazing reputation, but she was not get into it. Her mind kept drifting off to where she could be that evening. With Marius, at the café, with Courfeyrac's gang. She didn't even care that the pair of them wouldn't be alone, but she found herself wishing for Marius. She exhaled loudly.
Azelma knew what the sigh had been about. Azelma knew her sister well, and she had caught enough fleeting glances and dreamy looks to know about a boy. Azelma didn't know who the boy was, of course, but did it matter? She knew how to get her sister out of the lovesick slump, even if it meant she would have to put her book down.
"Actually, 'Ponine, do you want to get a hot chocolate?"
Nearly everyone had long gone home, and Enjolras was still sitting in the café. He had done his schoolwork and study, and was now pouring over a personal favourite of his. The Social Contract, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau. It was an old book, with complicated vocabulary, but worth the read. He had a red pen in hand, taking little notes in the margin of the book. He didn't look up when two girls entered the café, whispering to each other. He did notice, however, when one of them spilled hot chocolate all over him and his book.
He jumped back in shock, the scalding liquid stinging like a bitch. He glared at the short girl who spilled the drink on him with icy eyes.
"'Zelma!" one of the girls said (but not the one who spilled hot chocolate on him, she was frozen to the spot). The girl had already grabbed napkins and was trying to dry out his book, whereas the other girl (the one who had spilled hot chocolate on him) stood back, frozen to the spot.
"S-so s-sorry," the smaller girl said, rooted into place. He looked at her a little bitterly, although who wouldn't. The first girl finally looked up from drying his book.
"I apologize on my sister's behalf, monsieur." she apologized, turning to give her sister evil eyes. Enjolras once again composed himself.
"It's fine," he spoke through gritted teeth. Did he recognize this girl from somewhere? It must have been his imagination, because she didn't bat an eyelash at him.
"Are you sure we can't get you a new book or something?" the younger girl piped up meekly. The older one winced internally at the suggestion, something Enjolras normally wouldn't have picked up on.
"No, no really. Just go," he finished a little sourly, but with the best intentions. Both girls looked at him apologetically again, before taking the hint and dashing out the door. Enjolras hadn't noticed Courfeyrac come out of the bathroom until he spoke. Courfeyrac didn't usually stay this late, but he had homework to do, which he knew he wouldn't get done at home.
"What was that about?" he asked, laughing softly. Enjolras turned at stared at his friend.
"She spilled hot chocolate on my book," he informed his friend, before passing him on his own way to the bathroom.
"She was hot. Both of them were," Courfeyrac mused. Enjolras shrugged; he hadn't noticed.
"Oh my god, 'Zelma!" Eponine giggled, mortified, as she handed her hot chocolate to her sister. Since Azelma had spilled her own, she decided her sister should have hers (Eponine was more of a black coffee person anyway). They were walking home in the dark now. Azelma hung her head shamefully.
"I know," she sighed, gladly taking the beverage from Eponine. She looked over at her sister and the two of them started to laugh hysterically. They laughed so much they both had to stop walking to finish it. Their equally booming laughs drew attention to themselves, surely, but neither of them really cared. Until a voice called from the shadows.
"Surely two girls like yourselves shouldn't be out at this hour," a shadowy figure emerged from a dark alley, a tall, lean figure. Eponine sucked in air quickly, her shoulders tensing. Azelma, too, tensed, her back straightening. Both of their eyes were trained on the man walking towards them.
"Montparnasse," Eponine said coldly. The lean shadow smiled wickedly at her, holding his arms out.
"What, no hug for your ex, Eppie?" he asked, faking injury. She bristled at the nickname, which she had always hated.
"Go home 'Parnasse," Eponine told him, crossing her arms.
"It should really I who should be saying that to you, Eppie," he retorted. "Your father will be concerned,"
"You would know," Azelma said furiously. Montparnasse laughed cruelly at that. Eponine put a hand around Azelma's shoulders, and started to steer her home.
"Let's go home, 'Zelma," she said quietly but finally. She didn't need to look back to know Montparnasse hadn't left his spot. He left a bitter taste in her mouth.
The rain the following day wasn't nearly as bad as it had been the morning before. Eponine had been prepared for it, so she left home in her newsies cap, which she rarely ever wore outside, in fear of being judged. But the rain had soaked her hair the day before, so the hat she wore.
She had decided she wasn't going to wait for Marius that day. He had forgotten her the day before, so he had to pay, even though she would have been content in forgiving him. But she wasn't that bad, she could perservere. She could walk to school without him, she could.
She arrived at the school gates, satisfied with herself. Marius probably felt guilty about forgetting her, so he probably waited for her, just to find she hadn't waited for him. This gave her a weird sense of glee, which was immediately stopped when she saw Marius already at school. He had forgotten her, again. He was walking next to someone she thought she recognised, but she couldn't place where from. Marius' companion had blondee curls and a red jacket. Marius' companion looked positively bored with Marius, but Marius continued to speak animatedly to him.
Enjolras decidedly was sick of Courfeyrac's friend Marius. Courfeyrac was one of Enjolras' best friend, but it turned out he did not have the best taste in people to introduce to Enjolras. Marius was currently babbling away about some girl he had seen on the way home from the Musain the previous evening. Why he decided Enjolras was the best person to tell, he didn't know. He tried every attempt at halting the conversation, but Marius could not take a hint.
"She was like an angel!" Marius said dreamily. Something in the distance seemed to catch Marius' eye, and his tone changed.
"Eponine!" he called out. Enjolras glanced sideways at the lovestruck boy, and followed his eyes. Marius was waving at a tattered girl at the gates of the school. The girl wore a newsies cap, and had long dark hair. He knew her from somewhere, but he couldn't place it.
"Forgive me, Enjolras, but I have to talk to my friend," Marius told him, before dashing off to talk to the girl in the hat. Enjolras was relieved to see him run off. He continued on his way into the school building, deciding that if he arrived for class a little earlier, he could study for his upcoming test.
When he arrived in his classroom, to sit at his usual seat, he was greeted by his friend, Combeferre. He smiled slightly; he could always trust 'Ferre to care about schoolwork almost as much as he did.
"Enjolras," Combeferre greeted him quietly, before returning to his book. Enjolras nodded curtly, before sitting next to him.
"Oh Ep, I think I'm in love!" Marius swooned, walking beside Eponine. She smiled, almost bitterly. Marius, her Marius had found another girl, when she had always been there. She could hardly hear him speaking over the sound of her heart dropping to her gut.
"Do you know her name?" she joked, her voice hoarse. Marius seemingly didn't hear her, he was far away.
"I have to go to class, Marius," she said sadly, hating to leave him, even though he clearly didn't need her there. She really did have to go to class though, she had just been bumped up to a higher History class, and did not want to disappoint her teacher on her first day.
She arrived to History before her teacher, gladly. The classroom was almost full, and no-one took notice of her as she slipped into a seat towards the back.
When the teacher entered the classroom, Eponine liked him immediately. He walked with a softness and swiftness to his step, and his eye caught her immediately, like he had been looking for a new face.
"Ladies and gentlemen, mademoiselles et monsieurs, I would like to welcome a new student to our class today. Say hello to Miss Eponine Thenardier!" he swept an arm in her direction, and she cast her eyes down. The last thing she wanted was for attention to be brought to her. Yet, all the eyes of the class were on her, so she waved meekly. This was the gesture for the teacher to speak again.
"Miss Thenardier, you may know me as Monsieur Madeleine. Now, to history!" he turned to face the rest of the class again, and proceeded to encapture them all in the past. When the fifty minutes were over, Eponine couldn't believe it; it felt more like five minutes. As she walked out of the classroom, she couldn't help but feel like was an inspiration. She would have to tell Marius – if he actually cared. Caught in her thoughts, she absentmindedly bumped into someone.
"Watch out!" muttered the boy she bumped into, as he stooped down to pick up the books she had knocked out of his hands. It was Marius' companion from that morning!
"My apologies," she replied, and then felt a strange sense of déjà vu. She had no more time to think on it, as she was being hurried out of the classroom by a surge of fellow students.
Enjolras cursed as he stood up from picking his books. He rose to look Combeferre in the eyes.
"Alright, mon ami?" he asked, slightly concerned. Enjolras waved his worries away.
"I'm fine, 'Ferre," he cracked a smile at his friend. "I've been feeling like Bossuet recently, that's all,"
He was referring to how he had been knocked into and the like recently, events which more often happened to their friend Bossuet, who was infamously known for his bad luck and clumsyness. And his shiny head, of course.
"Let's find Courf before Chemistry, shall we?" Combeferre suggested, pushing his glasses further up his nose as they walked. But no sooner than they began looking for the curly-haired center did he appear by their side.
"Musain again tonight, mes amis?" he asked, throwing an arm around Combeferre's shoulder.
"Where else?" Combeferre joked.
"Will you be bringing Marius again?" Enjolras asked, almost distastefully. This prompted confused looked from Courfeyrac and Combeferre.
"I imagine so, why, does he bother you?" Courfeyrac stated. Enjolras shrugged.
"Sort of? He just bothered my with impertinant girl talk this morning," he explained. Courfeyrac laughed, sympathising immediately with Marius.
"He just chose the wrong person to talk to, 'Jolras, he's fine normally," Courfeyrac defended his new friend.
"As long as he isn't late this time," Enjolras finalised. Courfeyrac accepted that was all he was going to get from the marble man.
"You have to come tonight, Ep! Maybe I'll see her again!" Marius pleaded with her. She had gone to him to enthuse about her new teacher, but he had somehow turned the conversation around to talk about another meeting at that café.
"You know I have to babysit 'Zelma, Marius," she argued, but really she was just looking for another reason to make him beg.
"Azelma is old enough to look after herself, Ep! Please! I think you'll get along with Courfeyrac's crowd, they're all nearly as headstrong as you are!" he tried to reason. "Do I have to get down on my knees? Because I will!"
She laughed, and finally agreed to it. She sighed as his eyes lit up upon hearing her, as his cheeks dimpled. She had it bad. But that night, maybe they wouldn't see that mysterious girl from the night before, and maybe Marius would forget about her. Maybe he would finally see her. That's what she told herself everytime he asked her to do something. Maybe he would finally see her.
But in the end, it wasn't Marius who saw her.