A/N: I felt like writing something a bit more downcast, so here you go. I have no idea how Éponine would be able to write so well, but that is the mystery...(ignoring the fact that there is no mystery for it to be.)

This is an urgent appeal. Just one click of a 'review' button could make this young author feel good about herself. So go on. You know you want to. No charge. Go on :P

My Dearest Marius,

If you are reading these words, which I presume have been given to you by Cosette, then it means I am dead. Which I am sure you know.

It's strange, writing a death note. But never mind. I accepted my fate when I went back to the barricade. And if dying meant I could save you, I'd do it a thousand times over, and another thousand times after that.

I hope you're happy, as you deserve to be. Cosette is a kind-hearted girl, we had our differences, but I'm sure she'll help you through the hard times. Give her my apologies for the way she was treated at the inn.

This letter isn't purely without purpose. I have something to ask of you. I can picture your expression right now; your eyes have widened, and you're a little worried to keep reading. Am I right? Of course I am.

I need you to keep an eye out for Azelma. No need to take her in or buy her things, I couldn't possibly ask that, but just make sure she's alright, that she's got a bit of food and that she's staying positive. Makes her money through performing on the streets now - got a nice little voice. Me and Gavroche sounded like drowning cats, but she can carry a tune alright, get a few francs out of it.

You might know her already. Small girl, about up to the bottom of my ribcage, skinny, apparently looks like me. Brown hair, wavy, quite long, usually tangled. Brown eyes, too. Scar on her forehead, never healed. If you don't know who I'm talking about, then you'll find her singing by the bridge over the Seine. Spare her a coin, if you can.

I hope life has treated you alright - I assume you and Cosette have married. If you're reading this at about the time I think you're reading this, then I presume you have a child on the way, even if it's early days. I'm pleased for you, honestly.

Would I like to have taken Cosette's place? Of course I would. Who wouldn't? But your heart never belonged to me, however much I would have liked it to. How lovely it must be to hear you coming quietly through the door after a days work, settling yourself next to me on the sofa, perhaps some tea in our hands as we talk and laugh away the evenings together. I'd be lying if I said I didn't envy Cosette. But no matter. As long as you're happy, I'm happy.

I'll miss you, Marius. I'll miss our walks by the river, the conversations in the marketplace, the evenings at the Café, watching Grantaire fall over tables and Joly giving his medical lectures, Enjolras giving speeches with nobody listening, and Jehan writing some romantic poetry. Courfeyrac and Combeferre chatting up the ladies. Do you remember the evening Courfeyrac drank too much and tried to make a pass at you? I'll never forget the look on your face - priceless. No doubt you miss them as much as I, probably more.

Take care, Marius. Enjoy life. As I know, it's far too short to despise. Keep your chin up, and spare me a thought now and then.

Yours, with all my love,

Éponine