Short drabble set in my modern AU universe. Very fluffy and cute and I don't know where it fits on the timeline, nor do I care. I had inspiration and he had to be done. The title sort of has nothing to do with the drabble but it's the same title as the glorious French film Love Me If You Dare (which gives me E/E feels).
It truly had been a perfect date – one for a scrapbook about memories she would never make. As the time dwindled into the evening, for once she was glad that Gavroche spent more time with her counterparts than with her (even though she would constantly berate herself for not spending more time with her brother). At first, she'd suggested coming up to her apartment as a joke to Enjolras since they were not dating, a fact that he constantly reminded her of. She was a friend, an acquaintance, someone he was lending a hand to, but never anything of significance. Fortunately, she didn't mind. Eponine preferred spending time with Enjolras even if it meant she was constantly reminded of what she was not.
Eponine was not one to complain for the cards she was dealt; besides Enjolras was currently in her kitchen opening a bottle of wine even though it was cheap and very generic. She was sure it was alcohol even Grantaire would turn his nose up to, but ending the night on tea had seemed a bit unromantic.
The record player sprung to life after Eponine managed to get most of the dust off. She turned to see Enjolras leaning against the open entryway, his body lithe and strong, and Eponine tried her best not to swoon.
"This wine is horrid," he said by way of greeting and the smile on his lips was soft and she sensed a bit of happiness there as he held out a glass in her direction.
Eponine shrugged, taking the glass from him, purposefully brushing her fingertips across his. "I told you so." She took a drink though, the taste bitter and sour in her mouth. She was no wine connoisseur, nor did she know anything about 'the finer things in life' but even Eponine could tell when wine was supposed to taste better than whatever this was. The two stood in silence, though it was not awkward. She felt at peace with him and he felt relaxed – the pressure of being more than he was off of his shoulders. Without a thought, Eponine downed the rest of her drink, making a face at the taste in the back of throat. "Dance with me?" She did not wait for his compliance before grabbing the glass from his hand. Enjolras smirked, more than willing to wrap his arms around her waist and sway cheek to cheek with her, the smooth jazz filling the space around them.
She felt happy. She felt content and full of life.
He felt scared. He felt longing and passion.
"I'm in love with you. Do you know that?"
Eponine glances up at the man, gauging his reaction. She was never one to hide her feelings, but Enjolras had not exactly been keen to return every action.
"Yes." His reply is curt and to the point, much what Eponine had been expecting. "I do not love you, do you know that?"
The words do not hurt Eponine, nor do they surprise her. Instead she laughs; a deep laugh from the bottom of her throat. "Oui, monsieur! Of course you don't love me." Enjolras seems relieved, albeit a bit confused, as he twirls Eponine in his arms. She comes back closer to him, closer than she'd been before, and leaned her lips to his ear. Her breath tickles his earlobe for a split second before he feels the warmth of her words.
"But you will."