Maybe I have said,
Something that was wrong,
Can I make it better,
With the lights turned on?
i.
She never asked for any of it.
They're already down to their underwear. Even in her drunken stupor Eponine is taking full advantage of this moment. Marius' hands running up and down her bony rib cage, his lips upon hers, the scent of cologne and alcohol... She saves the feeling, tucking it away for a rainy day. The night closes in around them and they are nothing but contained explosions, but Eponine does not mind. She always wanted to go out with a bang.
Marius, on the other hand, has no idea what he is doing. She is much skinner than he imagined- much dirtier. Her hair is ratted and frayed and her lips taste like blood ash. He wonders how an angel could possibly taste of blood and ash. He goes for her bra, fumbling around in the dark. He catches a glimpse- /black/. Maybe his angel is actually a devil.
It is just before they hit the bed before he calls her name.
"My angel."
Eponine takes this a bit wearily. He knew she was no angel, and she knew too. She slows down, confusion making her tense.
"I dreamed we'd meet again."
Everything comes to a halt. He doesn't believe it is her- he has her confused with someone else. She pulls back, her voice like venom.
"No."
He stops, flicking on a light. His slurred words take over the space.
"P-ponine...? Why the hell am I-? With you-?!"
She grimaces, but dares not look away from his face. He is intoxicated, but so is she. She does not know whether to believe what he says next.
"I could never love you like that! G-get out! I can't believe I almost h-had sex with you! Y-you may be ridden with disease."
Her face becomes emotionless. She believes every bit of it.
He, on the other side, does not. The confusion overwhelms him to a point of anger. He does not know what to say.
So he says all the things he can to get rid of her.
It takes a moment, but her teeth grit and she slaps him. She does not say anything as she blindly grabs her clothes and storms out.
She does not cry.
She is numb.
ii.
You have new voicemails! The voice on her machine calls out. Click one to listen.
She has been ignoring these for three days. Her will is no longer strong enough to resist. She picks up the phone, hitting the button.
The most recent is one from Marius, of course.
"Ponine, I'm so sorry. I'll do anything. Lifetime supply of chocolate milkshakes? Concert tickets? PLEASE."
Next. She thinks.
"I still have your bra I'm sorry."
"Sorry about the other night, I was out of my mind! I don't think you have any diseases, really!"
"Please. Just talk to me."
"Eponine I am so sorry and I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me!"
She still does not cry, though it seems he might have.
Guilt is an ugly color on Marius.
The next message is unexpected; she didn't even know Enjolras had her number.
"Eponine? It's Enjolras. I would like it if you spoke at my women's right's rally next week. I will pay you if need be. Contact me."
The message is just as abrupt as his temper.
She calls him back instantly, her raspy voice asking simply: "Why is a white male bourgeois running a women's right's meeting?"
"Promoting equality." He says, obviously somewhere with a lot of people. She can almost make out some of the background noise if she concentrates hard enough.
"Do you even care about women's rights?" She raises a brow, holding the phone close to her ear.
"That is a silly question, Eponine." He scoffs. "Are you in or not?"
"Ask me tomorrow." She hangs up.
It is smooth and easy for them to converse, but they don't do it often. He has no time to waste and she hasn't got much to spend. So obviously they do not spend that time together.
She has two more voicemails. One is Bahorel, making sure she's not dead. She appreciates the thought, but doesn't confirm or deny anything. And the last is work, telling her if she misses one more day she's fired.
This is a severe wake up call for Eponine. She rolls out of bed, promptly hitting the floor. She scrambles to her feet, throwing on what the can find.
Within three minutes she is out the door and racing towards the Musain.
She barrels through the door, tying on her apron from the rack.
"Thank god!"
She perks her head up to see Musichetta, the other waitress. She jumps around a few chairs in her way, begging to engulf Eponine in her arms.
Eponine obliges to this, but does not enjoy it. She lightly pats the girl's back, trying to signal 'that's enough'. Musicetta lets go, a big grin on her face.
"I was afraid you ran off on us all!" She says dramatically, grabbing Eponine by the shoulders. "The boys had a bet going on- they thought you might have died!"
She quirks a brow, looking back to the group of boys behind Chetta. They are all exchanging bills and yelling and pushing each other. She looks back to Musichetta, beginning to deadpan:
"How thoughtful." She notices Marius, her eyes widening. He sits in the corner, no amusement on his face whatsoever. "I need to get to work."
She starts to make her way to the counter. This lasts about three seconds before Marius awkwardly climbs out of his seat and races over to her. He grabs her shoulders this time, pulling her to face him. Her heart does not flutter and her face does not flush. The Amis grow silent and she is left with nothing but him and his guilt.
She tenses.
She has already been touched too much.
"Eponine- I'm so sorry." He searches her eyes for any sign of life, but can only find emptiness. "I'm an idiot and I'm sure you don't have any STDs."
She sends him a sharp glare, her gaze hardening as she hears snorts and gasps from the boys.
"Leave me alone." Her eyes are like knives; her words like swords.
He does not budge.
"Eponine."
A firm hand is placed on Marius' shoulder. She looks up to see Enjolras, a scowl on his face.
"Let her go."
Marius almost shakes, dropping Eponine's arms and turning to Enjolras. Enjolras sends him a short shove, pointing him back to the Amis.
"I apologize, Eponine-"
"Don't ever do that again." She snaps harshly, hitting his arm.
"Ow-!" He winces. "What did I do?" His brow raises as he begins to rub where she hit.
"I don't need to be saved. In fact, I could have saved myself." She is nothing shy of harsh. "I refuse to be your damsel, m'sieur."
"I wasn't trying to—" He tries to interject.
"And we're not even friends!" She continues, letting the boys glare at them. "I see no use for your help."
"I consider us friends." He scoffs, a bit hurt by her comment.
"Since when?" She hisses.
He simply shakes his head, returning to the crowd.
And she is left numb.
iii.
She makes what seems like hundreds of drinks. The musain is sullen and the laughter is only occasional. No one speaks to her except to order a coffee. She makes them silently, not even bothering to manipulate the costumers in to paying more money. She does not even sing along to the music and pretend she's in some bad nineties movie.
She doesn't even feel the coffee burn her skin when she spills it.
And she doesn't even wince at Enjolras' cold glare.
"Black coffee." He mutters simply.
She realizes how harsh she was. If she had already lost Marius then why lose Enjolras? Well- it wasn't like she had either of them in first place, but she knows if she keeps isolating herself then she will have no one.
She quickly makes his coffee, taking her sharpie and scribbling something on it quickly.
He takes it, still a bit upset with her. It takes him a moment to notice what she had written. He reads it quietly aloud to try and decipher it.
"Sorry, pretty boy."
He chuckles, receiving an odd look from Grantaire- the only boy not listening to one of Courfeyrac's outrageous stories.
And he finds himself not able to listen to it either.
iv.
The next morning she awakes to another phone call.
"What do you want, Enjolras?"
"You said to ask you about the rally tomorrow. It's tomorrow now."
"When's the rally?"
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Was that unclear?"
"Smart ass." She bites her tongue, thinking up an answer. "Fine, only if you stop bugging me."
"Deal."
"See you then, bourgeois boy."
v.
"You've reached Eponine's voicemail! Fuck off."
"Did you not hear my thing about chocolate milkshakes? I know you enjoy chocolate. C'mon, please stop hating me. I can't focus with a red cheek and the sound of your voice nipping at the back off my—"
"Your message has been deleted."