A/N:
The poem is Faces by Sara Teasdale. I didn't know why I put it there, it seemed fitting when I wrote it.
People that I meet and pass
In the city's broken roar
Faces that I lose so soon
And have never found before,
A crowd of unfamiliar faces moved past the streets, some lingered by the sidewalk, but most had listened to Enjolras' speech. Eponine watched from afar, blending in the crowd, invisible to everyone. She would have left moments ago, but Enjolras' words spoke to her. He spoke about freedom, poverty and pain. He was charismatic, and spoke with such passion and life that it was almost impossible not to listen.
He was stopped in mid sentence when he heard a distant sound of hoofs echoing through the streets. This was their cue to leave and scatter. He threw out fliers to the crowd and began to move.
Eponine saw the guards arriving the moment they had run. The crowd dissolved and parted. Eponine saw Enjolras, running off to a dark corner. She felt strangers push past her, eager to move. Eponine simply stared into the dark corner he disappeared into. A guard entered through it, he must have seen Enjolras.
Without thinking, Eponine pushed past the crowds and followed him. She looked around, searching for his blonde head. She knew these streets like the back of her hand, and anyone could get lost in these parts. But Enjolras wasn't hard to find, his handsome face stood out like a thorn. She sees him running towards a dead end, she sped after him, hearing the heavy boots of the guard nearing them. She moved beside him, gripped hold of his arm and dragged him into another path, and into a small shed, it was abandoned, filthy and it reeked of sewer. It was the last place anyone would enter.
"Eponine." His eyes wide, startled to see her here. She was close, too close to him. They crouched behind a wall, their bodies pressed against each other.
She placed her finger on his mouth, stopping him from speaking any further.
Enjolras felt very uncomfortable, his heart sped faster than it should. Their gazes were locked onto each other, listening to the sound of the guards footsteps coming closer then fading until it was gone completely.
Eponine was the first to break away from the gaze, she stood up, dusted off her tattered skirt and peeked out to see if there was anyone there.
"Thank you." Enjolras said curtly, standing upright, unsure what to say.
Eponine glanced towards him then smiled, sending shivers down his spine. "You don't need to thank me, monsieur."
And with those words, she ran off, leaving Enjolras alone.
Do you know how much you tell
In the meeting of our eyes,
How ashamed I am, and sad
To have pierced your poor disguise?
The whole group was in the cafe. Marius entered through last with Eponine trailing behind. Enjolras knew that she was hopelessly in love with him. Everyone did, except for Marius. And he was oblivious to her affections, his heart was already set on Cosette.
Eponine's gaze wandered around Les Amis until it settled on Enjolras'. Both eyes locked onto each other, steady and unflinching. Her eyes were dark and beautiful, but it was sad and pained. Marius said something to her, something Enjolras could not quite hear, and she glanced away without another thought. She laughed, but it never seemed to reach her eyes.
Enjolras wished to speak with her. Yet he stayed firmly in his seat, half-listening to Grantaire's drunken stories.
Secrets rushing without sound
Crying from your hiding places -
Let me go, I cannot bear
The sorrow of the passing faces.
Enjolras encountered her one night. She walked alone in the moonlight, her thoughts drifting further and further. There was something beautiful about her, he thought to himself quietly. Despite her unkempt hair and tattered dress, she shone through in the night. But she was thin and frail, and looked so vulnerable. He could see, barely, from afar, tears trickling down her cheeks. But she hastily wiped it away with her hand.
Enjolras made no move. She was walking further into the night, singing songs to herself as she did so.
Eponine looked up, and saw him there, staring.
"Monsieur Enjolras." She acknowledged him, slightly surprised to see him here.
"It's late. Shouldn't you be at home?" Enjolras asked her.
She shook her head and answered. "I like the streets at night."
There was brief moment of silence between them. But it was Eponine who broke it first. She looked up and stared at him suspiciously. "I would have asked you the same thing, monsieur."
"I couldn't sleep." He confessed.
"Then would you like to walk with me, Enjolras?" She asked, her words expectant yet doubtful.
Enjolras felt his heart beat fast against his chest. He didn't know why he felt this way. He was never one for romance, but she was different. He felt a painful tug in his chest, knowing her feelings for Marius and that her invitation to walk was simply platonic.
"You'd love the streets at night." Eponine told him, noticing the troubled look on his face. "France is most beautiful at night."
Enjolras kept quiet, contemplating with his thoughts.
He felt her hand tug onto his arm. And for once, he couldn't refuse.
- People in the restless street,
Can it be, oh can it be
In the meeting of our eyes
That you know as much of me?
Enjolras could see the darkness looming above them as they fought in the barricades. As he yelled orders at his comrades, he noticed a familiar face passing by. It was Eponine, wearing men's clothing, her long hair bundled inside a cap. He stopped her from moving any further, grabbing her wrist and made her turn to face him.
"You're not supposed to be here, Eponine." Enjolras said angrily, but there was worry in his voice. And he wished it didn't come out desperately. "Run before it gets worse."
Don't die before I do, he wanted to say but he hears the sounds of gunshots and men falling on the ground.
"You need all the help you could get." She protested, her eyes filled with ferocity and determination.
She was here for Marius, nothing more. And he wished she would have not loved him. He wished she would fall for someone else. Then she wouldn't have to be here.
"Don't..." He began to say, but words failed him.
"You cannot get rid of me, Enjolras." She stated, her voice final. She slipped away from his grasp and walked off.
They were on the verge of losing.
So many have died, so much blood was on their hands, Enjolras stood behind the barricades, his hands trembled and his thoughts were filled with plans to make do with the remaining men. He would bravely die for his cause and he would welcome death happily. But as he closed his eyes he sees her face beneath the moonlight, the cool night breeze and her gentle touch. He remembers her saving him in the alley, their bodies pressed together and her dark eyes gazing at him.
Suddenly, he felt someone grasp for his arm, and it snapped him out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes and saw her, eyes wide and unafraid. Eponine settled next to him.
"You're trembling." She said worriedly. "Are you cold?"
He shook his head. "I'm fine."
She knew he wasn't. But she didn't press him any further.
"You should run." Enjolras told her. "You'll die here."
"I'm not going anywhere." Eponine said stubbornly. "I have nothing to return to."
Enjolras kept silent, knowing that she would put up a fight to stay here. No matter what he'll say she won't leave. She seemed persistent and it bothered him that she was bracing herself for death when she could live and be free, not dragged into this chaos.
"I'd like to thank you." She said suddenly. "You saved me from getting shot."
It all seemed a blur to him, Enjolras saw Eponine struggling for the gun the soldier held that pointed towards Marius. Without a moment's hesitation, Enjolras shot the soldier before he could pull the trigger. Neither spoke of it afterwards, both seemed far too busy defending the barricade at that point.
"Why do you fight?" Enjolras asked, his thoughts escaping his lips. They were going to die. And he realized that now would be the time to let out all of his frustrations about her.
Eponine turned her head to look at him, startled at the question. She paused for a brief moment then finally answered. "I fight for your cause."
"No." Enjolras shook his head deliberately. "You fight for Marius."
"I fight for you." Eponine corrected quietly, her voice gentle. She looked as surprised as he was, as if admitting it for the first time.
Enjolras couldn't help but stare. He was speechless.
"I fight for your cause." Eponine continued. "At first, yes, I fought for Marius, I fought for foolish admiration and that was my mistake. But you, you fight for your Patria, our country, our freedom. You fight for your belief and the revolution. You symbolize everything I have come to stand for."
Eponine's dark eyes met his. A smile escaped her lips, a genuine one. But it soon faded as she opened her mouth to speak again. "So don't let me down, Enjolras."
"Do you fear death, monsieur?"
Enjolras turned to see Eponine, midst the chaos and the screams. And he knows that he will see her one last time. They dodged the bullets, escaped the guards and found themselves alone on top of the second floor.
Instead of answering, he kissed her. All those feelings, the pain and suffering and longing, have finally been released. It took her a brief moment to realize what was happening, then she wrapped her arms around him, urging for more.
He wanted this to go on forever.
But then he heard someone call for his name, so he pulled away, breathless and dazed. From the distance, he could hear footsteps reaching them.
Their time, however fleeting, seemed to stop at this moment, where her hand slipped into his, and their gaze locked onto each other, both knowing of what is to come and both wishing of what could have been.
You ask me if I fear death, he thought quietly as he watched the guards enter with guns. I do not.
And he looked at her, a sad smile upon his lips.
Because you are here by my side. And we will meet again.