The First Time
No one in their right mind would be up at three thirty on a Saturday morning, but here he was, driving to Rue de Caurmartin to pick her up. She'd woken him up with a phone call, and when he answered, he could hardly here her whisper.
"I… I know it's late, or early, or whatever but can you come pick me up?" Her voice was hoarse and he could tell that something was wrong.
That was how Eponine ended up in his car at four in the morning. Silence surrounded them, the rain hitting the windshield being the only exception. Her head rested against the window and she watched the buildings and shops pass by. From what Enjolras could see from the side of her face, her upper lip was split and hair was falling from her ponytail.
"Do you wanna talk about?" He asked her without looking back as they climbed the stairs to his apartment.
"No." Her reply was short and they walked inside. She headed towards the balcony, and he headed towards the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on.
The rain had stopped and Eponine leaned against the railing. She watched the cars race by, splashing in the puddles which sent water flying everywhere. The smallest of smiles appeared on her face when she saw the way the water caught the streetlights, making them look like tiny stars on the ground.
"What happened?" Enjolras's soft voice broke her from her thoughts, and she stood a bit straighter.
"He was drunk, I yelled."
Enjolras walked over to where she stood and mimicked her actions of leaning against the rail. "Is there ever gonna be a day when you leave him?" He turned his head to see the smile that was once there quickly fall.
"Someday." Her voice was laced with sadness and she bit her lower lip. She was lying to herself, and she was lying to him, but tonight it nearly seemed believable. Eponine laid her head on his shoulder and felt rain start to fall again. Silence, once again surrounded them. There were no more cars driving by, but the quiet made her feel more at home than she had in a long time.
"But when's some day?" He felt her shrug against his body and then her hand was in his.
The Second Time
The years had made her an expert at hiding her emotions. But sometimes when she was only in the company of Marius, and Enjolras, they were easily visible. Eponine was in love with Marius, that much Enjolras made out. He saw her eyes light up anytime Marius directed the conversation towards her.
He should have expected that tonight went south. Marius had ended up bringing Cosette over to their get together. Cosette, the lark, with her wide green eyes and silky blonde hair that flowed down her back. He could have been out and enjoying the party with everyone, but here he was, sitting in the bathroom, on the ground, against the door, with Eponine.
"Maybe I'm not cut out for this whole 'love' thing." Her laugh was dry and empty looked up at the ceiling.
"One person shouldn't have the power to make or break your heart." His voice was quiet and he glanced at her. The way she spoke always had him wondering just how sad that heart of hers was.
"You're one to talk about breaking hearts." This time when she smiled, he could tell that it was a true smile, and not the sad one that always occupied her face. "Sorry, but I don't think I'll be taking any love advice from someone who said that the only person they'll ever love is liberty or whatever bullshit you were spewing that day."
She was right, he really didn't have any experience to tell her that everything would be okay in the end. "At least I know how to choose a person though," the moment the words left his lips, he immediately regretted. He was always one to think before speaking, but when he was around her, he had no idea what he was saying. "Sorry," his voice no more than a whisper but she heard him anyways.
"It's alright," she nodded and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers, "I know how to take a hit." She looked at him with a smile, but the smile was no longer one of happiness. It was one full of pain and sadness.
The Third Time
His fingers were laced tightly with hers as Eponine pulled them through a thickening crowd. In truth, Enjolras couldn't believe how many people would rather wait outside under the Eiffel Tower than be at home watching the celebrations on the tv. Snow was beginning to fall and from what he could see, her nose was a bright red. Enjolras would never admit it, but the way her eyes sparkled as they looked around the crowd along with her nose made his heart warm.
Eponine adjusted the scarf around her neck, looking back to him and flashing a bright smile. It was strange for her to be in such a happy place considering the events that had occurred over the course of a year. If someone had said she'd be spending the New Year at the Eiffel Tower with him, Eponine would have called them crazy. However, as she quickly glanced over the last few months, she took note in the fact that Enjolras was nearly always there when she asked him.
The pair found a decent spot close enough to have a rather good view of the fireworks, yet still be far enough to look at the whole of the tower. Feeling the chill of winter run down her spine, she moved closer to Enjolras and wrapped her arms around him, attempting to stay as warm as possible.
There was something about the small gesture that had him smiling rather widely. He was actually grateful to spend this moment with her. Enjolras had always enjoyed Eponine's company, and tonight was no different. Pulling her tightly against his chest, for warmth he argued in his mind, he glanced up at the tower, the people around them beginning to count down.
"3... 2... 1! Happy New Year!" Various voices rang out into the sky as fireworks around the tower went off.
After what seemed to be a few moments, he felt something icy press against his cheek. Looking down, Enjolras saw her quickly pull her lips away, the hint of a smile beginning at the corners of her mouth.
"Happy New Year, Enjolras."
The Fourth Time
Courfeyrac was lying asleep on the couch with Combeferre on the floor below him. The only two who remained awake were Eponine and Enjolras, the other two having passed out after one too many beers. Soft music filled the air due to the radio that was left on in the counter. Enjolras was sitting in the chair next to the couch while she was on the floor against the bookshelf, her eyes shut as the music flowed through her ears.
"You awake? His voice was soft as he watched her move her head to the rhythm of the music.
Her only response was the opening of her eyes along with a nod, and she stood up, motioning for him to come over.
He did what she wanted, and carefully stepped over the sleeping Combeferre and made his way to her. "What?" His eyes were filled with curiosity as she took his hands in hers and began to slow move from side to side.
"Dance with me." He had never heard voice more fragile than this, not even after picking her up that rainy Saturday morning, or when they were in his bathroom. But he did just that, and started to move with her.
She wasn't daft; she knew that he had said his only love was liberty or whatever the hell, but for one night she could simply pretend. Looking up at him with wide brown eyes, she smiled brightly, the same smile he'd only seen once before. Without a second thought, his lips met hers in the middle. They stood there for a few moments, the music filling the empty space around them, the lights of the city flickering outside the window.
As quickly as her lips were there, they were gone. "You know, Enjolras," her voice was soft and filled with a ring he'd never heard before, "I do believe the smallest part of me is in love with you."
With those words, their lips met once again.
The Fifth Time
Sweat covered both of their bodies as his hips rolled against hers: their clothes having been scattered across the floor of his bedroom. Each time he pressed his lips to the valley between her breasts, a small gasp would escape her. Every scar and imperfection made her perfect to him. His tongue darted out to softly trace the rough skin on her breast. She tasted of sweet berries and salt, a rather unusual mix but one he didn't contest.
His lips were anywhere and everywhere at once. On her breast, on her stomach, on her lips, on her throat, on any bit of skin they could touch. Every so often, he'd nip her collarbone and suck the skin on her shoulder just enough to leave a small mark. Each time he did so, he drew another gasp from her.
He relished in every noise she made, taking pride that he had such a power to do this. Enjolras knew of the life she lived, and why her body was covered in so many scars. But these only made her more beautiful to him. As he thrust into her again, he could feel her walls tighten with such a ferocity that it brought even him to his end. Before this, he had only held her hand four times. He gripped her hand tightly, using his free hand to brush hair out of her face. The moonlight shining in made her appear serene and perfect, if anyone in the world could be.
To Enjolras, she was a goddess. He once remembered Grantaire referring to him as Apollo. If that be true, then she was Selene. Her beauty and power had a hold of him in which he rather enjoyed. If he was the sun, then she was the moon. Opposites that complimented each other.
As he moved to lie next to her, Enjolras smiled to himself. He whispered soft, sweet nothings in her ear, pulling her tightly against his bare chest. These were the moments that made everything worth it, he had told himself. Had someone told him a little over a year ago that he would be laying in his bed with Eponine, he'd have laughed in their face. Never did he think that the girl who resembled the moon with a slightly broken smile would ever be he his. Her breathing was slowing and he could tell she was beginning to fall asleep. With the softest of kisses to her temple, he spoke words that only she would understand.
"Don't let go of my hand," he murmured into her hear, sleep beginning to overpower him.