AN: Okay, so you probably all know Freedom909, if you don't then what are you doing here? Go check her out, she's amazing! Anyway, a while back she made an edit for me and I wanted to thank her by writing a story about it for her. So, this little one-shot is dedicated to my lovely friend, Freedom909. I love you, darling!
I don't own Les Misérables. Enjoy.
Éponine was woken up by a swift kick to her side. Her eyes shot open and a small grunt left her slightly parted lips. She lifted her head up from her arm, her makeshift pillow, and locked eyes with her father, Monsieur Thénardier.
"Git up," he spat, grabbing her arms and yanking her roughly to her feet. Éponine stumbled, but regained her balance. "Ya got work to do."
A bitter laugh slipped passed her chapped lips. "If by work you mean selling myself to strangers for your benefit," she grumbled, rubbing a particularly sore spot on her lower back.
Thénardier growled and grabbed her wrist forcefully. "Watch yer mouth," he hissed, his fingers digging painfully into her wrist. He brought his face close to hers and she cringed at the stench of alcohol that filled her nose.
He dropped her wrist and Éponine rubbed it, trying to relieve some of the pain. Thénardier sneered at her at left the room with a final, "Git goin'."
Éponine glared at his retreating form and childishly stuck her tongue out at his back. She refused to do his bidding today. She refused to lower herself down further. The brunette strode out of the room, passed her father, and out of her home.
Once she was on the street, Éponine turned left and headed towards the Café Musian. The sun warmed her skin and Éponine closed her eyes, relishing in the quietness around her.
She found it a little strange that the street was empty, but she shook it off and continued on her way. Éponine enjoyed times like these. Times when she was left alone with her thoughts and just able to escape reality.
Her silence was ruined by a voice whispering, "Hello, 'Ponine," into her ear. Éponine jumped and whirled around, only to be met by Montparnasse; a member of her father's gang.
Éponine frowned and eyed him warily. "Hello, Montparnasse," she said curtly. "What are you doing here?" She continued walking, hoping that she would lose him.
"Just wandering around," he replied nonchalantly, moving by her side. Éponine groaned internally as she realized that he wasn't going to leave her be.
"That's nice," she said simply, wishing that he would go away and let her go back to her wonderful silence. Éponine looked over at him and studied him.
Montparnasse was handsome, she couldn't deny that. He had raven curls, piercing green eyes, a tall stature, and cherry red lips. Though he wasn't rich he wore nice clothes and spoke like a proper gentleman. But it was all a façade.
She knew what he was truly capable of. And her point was driven even further when she saw the red that stained his fingers. Éponine stopped abruptly and Montparnasse quirked an eyebrow at her.
"Problem?" he asked. Éponine just wordless motioned towards his hands. Montparnasse looked down and chuckled lowly. "Oh, that," he said, a grin tugging on his lips. "Don't worry about that, chérie. It's nothing."
Éponine scoffed and stepped back. "It's not nothing," she hissed in reply. "You killed someone, 'Parnasse."
"Let's just forget about this," he started, moving to place his hand on her arm. Éponine stepped back even further and glared at him. "Don't look at me like that, 'Ponine," he chided her like she was a child.
"You're a terrible, terrible man, Montparnasse," she hurled at him. Éponine turned on her heel and moved to leave, but Montparnasse stopped her. "Let go!" she shouted, trying to pry his hand off.
Montparnasse let her go. "I won't hurt you," he said. He grabbed the flower that sat in the breast pocket on his coat. He reached out and gently placed it in her dark hair, behind her ear. "You know that, right?"
Éponine bit her lip and avoided his gaze. She truly didn't know how to answer that. She looked down at where he had touched her and saw that some of the blood now stained her tan skin. She looked back at him.
"I know," she said finally. Montoarnasse grinned and ran his fingers through her dark hair.
Éponine raised a brow at him, but didn't question his motives. His hand moved to her cheek and gently caressed her skin. She stepped back and smiled lightly.
"I have to go," she said, turning away from him. "Goodbye Montparnasse." Éponine rushed down the street and let out a relieved sigh when he didn't follow her. She wiped away the blood on her arm.
Montparnasse was a strange man. He was terrible one minute and charming the next. He was a terrible young man who was capable of being charming.
Éponine didn't actually go to the Musian until later that evening. After her encounter with Montparnasse she had ended going to the Seine and sitting by the water's edge before wandering around aimlessly. Her mind had been racing with thoughts of Montparnasse and she shivered every time she thought about the crimson that had stained his hands.
By the time she decided to go the café, it was dusk. Éponine walked at a brisk pace towards the small café, hoping that no one was lurking in the shadows. She ended up laughing at herself after that thought. There was always someone in shadows, or just waiting around every corner.
She let out a sigh if relief when the café loomed into sight. Éponine practically ran the rest of the way there and flew inside. She dashed up the rickety old stairs and smiled at the sight before her.
The Amis were scattered about the room, visibly relaxed and talking carefree. Éponine scanned the room for one Ami in particular. She smiled when her eyes finally landed on Enjolras, the leader of the revolution, talking to her brother Gavroche.
Enjolras had a fond smile on his face as he watched the small boy talk animatedly about something. The sight made Éponine's tough heart melt and she silently moved towards them. She stopped a few feet away from them and just observed them, more physically, Enjolras.
She took in every single detail. Enjolras was extremely handsome, but he didn't flaunt it. He had blonde curls that were bright like the sun, blue eyes the color of the sea, and soft, pink lips. He was the picture of what a proper gentleman should be. Kind, honest, polite.
Éponine would be lying if she said that she didn't harbor tiny feelings for the mighty Apollo. And she wasn't the only one. Every woman in Paris seemed to be fascinated by him, mainly his appearance. She would also be lying if she said that she didn't feel a swirl of jealously pass through her stomach when another woman flirted with him.
Enjolras never gave them the time of day, he was too focused on his cause, but she could still be jealous and possessive if she wanted to be. That's how Montparnasse was with her, so why couldn't she act the same with Enjolras?
"Hey, 'Ponine," a voice said beside her. Éponine looked up and locked eyes with her best friend, Marius Pontmercy. Once upon a time she had feelings for him, but it didn't last long.
As she came to know Enjolras, through Marius, she finally knew what it was like to be cared for. Not to say that Marius, nor Gavroche, didn't care for her; but they couldn't care for her in the way she wanted. With Enjolras she felt wanted, loved and it was all she could ever ask for.
Éponine looked at him and smiled brightly. "Hey there, Marius," she replied. Éponine looked back at Enjolras and Gavroche. The tall blonde had snatched Gavroche's hat from his messy brown locks and was holding above his head, teasing the small boy who jumped up trying to reach it.
"Enjolras!" Gavroche cried in annoyance, but a wide grin rested on his lips. "Give me my hat!" Enjolras just laughed and shook his head.
Éponine couldn't believe that this was the same Enjolras who gave speeches to mass crowds about liberty and equality. She liked seeing him like this. The softer, sweeter side he hid underneath his serious look of determination.
"I think Enjolras has a soft spot for Gav," Marius said, drawing her out of her revere. Éponine smiled and nodded in agreement. "Then again, most people do."
Éponine laughed lightly and looked back at her boys. Enjolras had placed Gavroche's hat back onto his head and was grinning at him. The boy stuck his tongue out at Enjolras, but giggled when Enjolras returned the gesture.
"Well, I think the meeting is going to start soon," Marius said. "Will you be staying?" Éponine nodded and Marius led her over to one of the tables in the back.
True to his word, Enjolras was soon back to his old, no nonsense, self. He spoke passionately about the cause, his eyes lighting up with a great, powerful fire. His cheeks flushed slightly as he spoke wildly about his ideals and about how France should be and what it would become.
Éponine was enjoying her time at the café until Enjolras had finished his speech. That's when Grantaire, who had sat quietly at the back table with his bottle, spoke out.
"And you really think that a bunch of speeches with fancy words is going to fix anything?" he asked sarcastically. He got a few warning looks, but brushed them off.
Enjolras turned to him, his eyes narrowing. "No, but we have to rally the people some how," he replied in a clipped tone. Grantaire snorted and Éponine was fearing the worst.
"News flash, Enjy," Grantaire said, "the people won't come to the aid of a bourgeois boy who barely understands their plight."
A deadly look crossed Enjolras' face and everyone held their breath. Grantaire had stood by this point and was waiting for the blonde's retaliation. Enjolras crossed the room and grabbed the collar of the drunkard's shirt.
"And what would you know about the people, or the revolution?" he hissed.
"That it's going to fail," Grantsire answered evenly.
"It will not!" Enjolras growled. "You're just too blinded by the alcohol to see that. If you aren't going to help, then just leave. We don't have room for poor fools like you, Grantaire." Enjolras released Grantaire roughly, making the dark haired man stumble slightly.
Grantaire sank back down in his chair, his eyes downcast. He grabbed the bottle that rested on the table and chugged half of it. Éponine felt her heart twist in pain and fear. She looked back towards Enjolras, who had turned away, and shuddered.
The man she just saw moments ago couldn't have been the same one who was laughing and joking with her brother. But she realized, dreadfully, that it was.
Enjolras was charming young man who was capable of being terrible. He was a savage Antonius and capable of anything. Éponine realized that with a sinking heart.
After the meeting, once the café had mostly cleared out, Éponine stood up. She didn't want to leave, she knew what would be waiting at home for her when she didn't show up with any money.
Éponine sighed and turned to leave, but a warm hand placed itself onto her arm. She turned around and came face to face with Enjolras. She froze slightly, the image of him lashing out on Grantaire floating back into her mind.
"Are you leaving?" Enjolras asked.
"Oui," she replied.
"Can I walk you home, mademoiselle?" Enjolras looked at her hopefully. "Please," he added after.
Éponine sucked in a breath and nodded. A small smile lit up his face and he offered her his arm. Éponine took it and allowed him to lead her out into the night.
The walk was fairly silent, save for the scraping of Enjolras' boots on the pavement and the light smack of Éponine's feet. It was fairly dark out, but the stars and moon offered a small sliver of light and illuminated the couple.
Éponine peered at him in the dark. His curls were now almost white instead of their usual gold. His face looked smooth, like he was truly carved out of marble. The glow from the moon almost looked like heaven itself was washing him in its light.
"Enjolras?" she said suddenly, surprising herself and him.
"Oui?" he replied, looking at her from the corners of his eyes.
"Did you truly mean what you said about Grantaire?" she asked softly. She gazed at the ground, but she could feel his eyes boring into her skull.
Enjolras sighed and stopped. He faced her and delicately titled her chin up, making her eyes meet his. "No," he answered. "I just let my anger get the best of me. I apologize for that. You shouldn't have to see me like that." He looked away, another sigh leaving his lips.
"It's not me I'm worried about," she said. Éponine placed her hand on his cheek. "It's Gavroche I'm worried about. He's the one who can't see you like that, Enjolras. He looks up to you so much."
Enjolras nodded and looked down at her. "I apologize," he repeated, softer than before. "I'll try to control myself, I will. It's just that-this revolution is so important to me, to everyone, and Grantaire just brings us down with his cynical outlook on life."
"I know," she said gently.
"I wish he didn't drink," Enjolras whispered. "He has so much potential, 'Ponine. I can see that, but he can't. I worry about him."
Éponine made him look at her. "I know, but you can't save everyone, 'Jolras."
"I can try," he replied confidently.
She rolled her eyes. "You can and I know you will. I forgive you, but please try and go easy on Grantaire. Not everyone feels the same as you do."
Enjolras nodded. "I'll try," he mumbled. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers gently.
Éponine was caught off guard, but she recovered quickly and kissed him back. Enjolras' hands found her waist and tugged her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and bit down on his lower lip, making a low growl emit from the back of his throat.
Enjolras' pulled back for air, but smashed his lips against hers again, more fervent in his actions. Éponine moved her hands into his hair as his fingers moved in slow circles along her hips. She moaned lowly and he smirked slightly.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" a voice called out tauntingly.
Éponine internally cursed when she recognized it as belonging to Montparnasse. She kissed Enjolras harder, hoping that Montparnasse would take the hint and leave them be. Enjolras was slightly confused, but didn't argue.
"You're a slut, Éponine," Montparnasse said. "You even have pretty boy here willing to bed you."
Enjolras pulled away from her and glared darkly at Montparnasse. Éponine narrowed her eyes and well.
"For your information, I am not bedding Éponine," Enjolras hissed. "I don't need constant pleasure, unlike you."
Montparnasse chuckled. "Sure, keep telling yourself that, pretty boy," he replied. "But Éponine eventually gets them all into bed, one way or another. Right, chérie?" He looked at Éponine mockingly.
Despite herself, Éponine felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. "I'm not a whore," she spat. "Now leave us alone, Montparnasse."
"I'll repeat myself, keep telling yourself that." Montparnasse moved closer and Enjolras growled lowly, wrapping an arm tightly around Éponine's waist. "Oh, is pretty boy going to protect you?" he cooed.
Enjolras tightened his grip. Éponine moved closer to his side and she felt some of the tension that had entered his body slip away.
"I can handle myself," she replied evenly, though she was secretly grateful to have Enjolras with her. "I'll say it again, leave."
Montparnasse only chuckled and moved even closer. He reached out and gently stroked her cheek. Enjolras lost his composure and immediately shoved Montparnasse back. He placed himself in front of Éponine, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the man in front of him.
"Don't you dare touch her," he threatened, his voice low and his eyes ablaze with a different kind of fire.
Éponine wanted to tell him that she was alright, but she knew it was useless. Now that Montparnasse had overstepped his boundaries, Enjolras would stop at nothing to protect her.
Montparnasse smirked. "And if I do?" he asked, challenging Enjolras.
"I'll make you regret it."
Éponine once again saw that terribleness that could emit from him, but this time it was for her. She felt guilty in some way.
Enjolras told her he would contain himself, but now he was disregarding that for her. Éponine needed to stop this, before something happened.
She stepped forward and placed her hand gently onto Enjolras' arm. He looked down at her and his gaze immediately softened once his eyes landed on her face.
"Let's just leave, then," she suggested quietly. "Please don't do anything you'll regret, 'Jolras. Please." Éponine looked at him imploringly.
Enjolras looked at her tenderly for a few moments before he gave a small, slow nod. Éponine let out a breath of relief and she squeezed his arm softly.
"Yeah, don't do anything you'll regret, Jolras," Montparnasse taunted. Éponine glared at him, silently cursing him for making the situation worse.
Another growl left Enjolras and Éponine squeezed his arm again, a tad bit harder than before. The blonde looked down at her and she swiftly shook her head. His eyes silently pleaded with her to let him do something, anything, but Éponine wouldn't relent.
They all stood in silence. Enjolras was tense, ready lash out at any second. Montparnasse stood perfectly relaxed stance, taking pride in the fact that he was getting under Enjolras' skin. Éponine stood in between the two, prepared to stop either if anything got out of hand.
She couldn't help but compare the two men between her. They were so different.
Enjolras was like the sun. He was warm and bright. He shined his light everywhere, trying to make the world a better place. He was charismatic, idealistic, brave, kind, intelligent. He was everything that Montparnasse wasn't.
Montparnasse was like the moon. He was dark and cold. He spread his darkness everywhere, trying to tarnish the light surrounding him. He was mysterious, cunning, wild, unpredictable. He was everything that Enjolras wasn't.
Enjolras belonged to the light, while Montparnasse belonged to the shadows. Their stark differences were like opposing forces. However, both had the power to be charming individuals, but, at the same time, were also very terrible.
That was the only thing they shared. In that they could get anyone to do what they wanted as long as they upped their charm. But they could also commit terrible deeds that made people fear them.
That's when it hit her full force. Enjolras and Montparnsse were both terribly charming young men and Éponine was trapped between their forces.
"'Ponine?" Enjolras' worried voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked at him, confusion pooling in her dark eyes.
"I-I need to go," she muttered. Éponine let her hand fall from Enjolras' arm. "I'll see you soon." She moved onto her toes and pressed a quick kiss to Enjolras' lips.
Enjolras, now confused as well, grabbed her elbow; halting her movements. "Wait, 'Ponine-" he started.
"Please, Enjolras, just let me go," she pleaded. "I-I need to be alone." Enjolras nodded and released her arm. He watched as Éponine took off into the night.
Éponine walked away briskly and stopped in a nearby alley. She watched quietly as both Enjolras and Montparnasse left, both seemingly confused about her actions and their was argument forgotten completely. She waited in the alley for a few more minutes before venturing back to the Seine.
She let out a prolonged sigh as she walked along the Seine. She paused near a bridge and sat down on the soft grass. Her mind was still racing with thoughts about Enjolras and Montparnasse.
She knew she could've handled that situation better, but she was just too confused about them. She loved Enjolras and, somewhere deep in her heart, she cared for Montparnasse, too. The feelings for Enjolras were stronger, but the feelings for Montparnasse were there, and she couldn't deny them.
Éponine let out a frustrated cry and grabbed the rose that was still situated behind her ear. She glared at the flower and crumpled it in her palm. She threw the flower angrily into the water and watched it float away from her.
Don't let it get to you, 'Ponine, she berated herself. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her head against them. But I can't just let it go, she reminded herself.
"Why does it even matter?" Éponine wondered aloud. "I love Enjolras. I do, I love, I love, I love him." But you care for Montparnasse, too. Éponine furrowed her brow and let out another frustrated cry.
Éponine stood up and moved herself underneath the bridge. She couldn't go home tonight and there was no point in going to Enjolras' home, not after what had happened. She curled herself into a small ball underneath the bridge and closed her eyes. Éponine soon fell asleep, thoughts of her terribly charming men plaguing her mind for the rest of the night.
AN: Okay, I hope this was semi-decent. I got a lot of input from the woman herself, Freedom909, and I got some inspiration from Hugo. I tried really really hard to make this good. So tell me if you loved it, or hated it! I would appreciate it! Thank you for reading!