The snow gleamed on the earth, with the colors from the last few rays of the setting sun painting glorious pictures of pink and orange and gold all over it. A young man sat alone on a bench, a book open in his hand, oblivious to everything around him, lost in his own world that consisted solely of the past. The dog-eared pages proved how often he had skimmed that particular book, coupled with the numerous comments made in the margins with his ever-present red pen. His curly blonde hair occasionally fell into his blue eyes, the ones that matched the sky on a cold, frost-bitten day, and his free hand would absentmindedly push them away. A few passing girls giggled at the handsome sight of him, but his eyes remained focused on the words swimming in front of him.

Similarly lost in a world of imagination, a young woman was walking along the path, her mind lost in dreams and hopes that she allowed herself to indulge in only when she was alone. In her mind, a young man with an ever-present smile and twinkling blue eyes would have an arm wrapped around her waist, the smile on his face beaming solely for her.

And she would be smiling back.

She strolled through the painted park, the colors adding to her imagination and painting it more vividly than ever. Her eyes remained glued to the sky, as if the scene in her mind was playing out above her right now, a movie with the happy ending she'd always dreamed of.

It was because of this distraction that she ended up tripping over someone's legs.

The young woman, whose name was Eponine, was not used to being clumsy. In fact, she was normally very confidant in her movements, flowing through the crowds of people at the university and in the city. And she was especially careful not to look clumsy in front of people she knew.

As Eponine turned to glare at the source of her fall, she saw a pair of bright blue eyes staring down at her, partially filled with concern, but also mixed with a bit of amusement.

"You okay there, Eponine?"

She stood up, a scowl on her face, and brushed off her jeans. "Yes, Enjolras, I'm fine." She said the last part a little harsher than intended, but Enjolras simply nodded, his eyes returning to the book in his hand. Eponine's mind almost flew off into the clouds again, but something told her legs to sit down on the bench next to the young man. Whether that was fortunate or not, only time will tell.

"What book is that?" Enjolras gave her a curious look. Evidently, it was not often that someone asked him what book his reading, or disrupted him for any reason for that matter. One look at his marble face, and girls would usually point and sigh, but never approach him or say anything to him. Even his friends knew not to bother him while he was reading. But this young girl, the newest addition to their little group, was most certainly peculiar. And so, he answered.

"It's called L'Ancien Regime et la Revolution," he said. "That means 'the Old Regime and the Revolution.'" Eponine barely held back a snort. Enjolras's second love, after his studies, was anything having to do with France. At Eponine's reaction, he frowned.

"It's quite interesting and intriguing." He had no idea why he was defending his reading choice to her. "It talks about the first French revolution, the one against Louis XVI-"

He was silenced when he felt something cold and wet hit his face. At his side, Eponine was giggling while wiping away the remnants of the frosty snow on her hands.

"Dude, you need to loosen up." Enjolras used his free hand to wipe the snow off of his face.

"I am perfectly loose and content-"

Another snowball splattered across his face. If an onlooker had chanced a glance at the couple, the few rays of the setting sun would've appeared to be coating Enjolras's face in blood. But no such onlooker was to be found, and Eponine was giggling even harder, her shoulders shaking.

"Eponine, I'm trying to read." The young woman in question raised a hand to the sky. "The sun's almost gone, Enjolras. No use pretending that your eyes can actually see the words on the page."

He raised an eyebrow. "I can see them fine. Don't you have something better to do? You must have had a purpose for walking through this park other than throwing snowballs at me."

Her smile faltered as Eponine wondered if she wanted to lose herself in her imagination once more. The darkness was starting to make the colors creep back into their shadows, along with Eponine's picturesque daydream.

"I just wanted to take a stroll through the park, clear my mind…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes took on a glazed look.

"It's got something to do with Marius, hasn't it." It was more of a statement than a questions, and the bluntness of it took Eponine a bit off guard. Enjolras shrugged. "You're just a tad too obvious, 'Ponine. Well, perhaps not to him…" Eponine stared, not quite knowing what to say. So she didn't say anything. Instead, she threw another snowball at him.

His hands reacted before his mind could comprehend what he was doing, and Enjolras noticed only after he felt his fingers turning numb that his closed book was now lying on the bench beside him.

"Alright, Thenardier." He grinned. "It's on."

That snowball fight was more glorious than any revolution Enjolras had ever read about. Snow flew from one side to the other, causing the other people who were in the park to worry about the possibility of their own clothes becoming soaked. Pretty soon, the park was deserted except for them, both lost in a world where only the two of them existed, battling with white snow on an equal playing field. At one point, Eponine turned to scoop some snow into a tightly packed ball, and Enjolras crept up behind her, his own hand clutching a snowball of his own. His red pen lay on the bench beside his book, both forgotten. Unfortunately for Enjolras, karma was on Eponine's side, and his unpracticed feet slipped on a patch of ice, and he tumbled to the ground.

Except there was someone beneath him.

His eyes and mouth ended up a lot closer than usual to the young Thenardier girl, and he noticed for the first time that there were gold flecks in her eyes. The numerous stars in the sky illuminated the two kids, the ones who had joined their two imaginary worlds into one scrambled mess that very quickly was becoming something neither of them had expected. And that mess, both could agree, was beautiful.

How long they lay there, neither would ever be able to tell, but after a while Enjolras was able to regain his voice and muttered, "Sorry." Neither could look the other straight in the eye for a moment, but soon Enjolras felt that same frosty wetness splatter all over his face again. And he laughed. An open, true, intoxicating laugh that had both Eponine and Enjolras sitting on the ground, holding their stomachs and bring perfectly content to be with each other.

Perhaps reality can be better than imagination, both thought, unaware that the other was thinking the same thing.

Once they'd calmed down, Eponine chanced another look at Enjolras. The stars illuminated his face and made him look more alive and excited than she'd ever seen him. His blue eyes eagerly searched Eponine's face. Her mouth took control, but the words that stumbled out barely surprised either of them.

"Meet up here again tomorrow?"

Enjolras smiled at her and nodded, finding himself enjoying the fact that she smiled back.

Perhaps it is not such a bad thing to look toward the future after all.