It started with Éponine watching Cosette. Not trying to work out what Marius saw in her, because that was plain to all, but simply watching out of some combination of envy and awe. Beautiful Cosette, sweet Cosette, adorable Cosette, with her hair of spun gold and her smile that positively reeked of sunlight. She was the sort of girl whom had she been born into a fairy tale, would have been a princess, Éponine decided. She was a princess and she didn't even know it.
Not even the sort of princess who got used as a bargaining chip for the prince to go and slay the dragon. The sort of princess who would tame the dragon, bringing it home to be the oddest of pets, or else would lure the dragon into a false sense of security by singing some maidenly song and then stab its eyes out. Cosette could be vicious when she wanted, and Éponine knew it, had watched her practising 'In Defense of Femininity' speech for her debate class.
That was another thing about Cosette. How natural that beauty came to her. Oh, she wore make-up and went shopping regularly and did a million other things to upkeep that look of polish about her … but despite this, it was never faked. She never gave off the impression of trying to be someone she wasn't.
Marius loved her, Grantaire painted her, Jehan braided flowers into her hair (Jehan braided flowers into everyone's hair but somehow Cosette got away with not looking ridiculous with daisy petals half falling out of her braid), and even Enjolras remarked on how attentive she was during their meetings.
And Éponine, who mostly knew as much as she knew by keeping her eyes open and her ears sharp, couldn't even resent her for it. She was simply Cosette … girly, sweet, clever, and unfairly likeable.
There was something about Cosette that Éponine found endlessly fascinating… the thought of the charmed life she lived, adored by her father, never having to fight for food or sleep on one of les amis' couches. And after a while Cosette began noticing Éponine in the corner. Tough streetwise Éponine, who always knew what to say. Sometimes she shot the other girl a strange look. What is it, why are you looking my way?
And Éponine …
I thought if I watched you enough I could come up with a way to hate you for having Marius when I don't, but as far as I can tell you are irritatingly flaw free. Even when you disagree with someone, it's on a reasonable topic… even if I don't agree myself.
How on earth could she answer in a way that didn't sound bitter at best, stalkerish at worst? So Éponine would merely shake her head in reply and go to sit by Grantaire, who at least understood the appeal of watching pretty blondes who were too perfect for their own good, be they princesses or golden gods.
