So, I've been called 'Queen of Fluff' by my friends. I had to show them that I was able to write sad things to. The challenge was to kill people without killing characters.
Inspired by an original story that I've written years ago.
Let me know if it worked.
Chapter One
The Grown-up Choice
A train passed by waking him up.
Since when did he live this close to the railway?
He blinked a few times, not used to the light. His bedroom was supposed to be on the west side of the building.
What was happening?!
He sat up.
No, definitely not his bedroom. His was simply decorated, his walls as bare as the day he moved in. This one was full of photos and colours, making it very warm... Very bohême, he would say. He would also add, even years after being out of Uni, it was very… Éponine.
Somebody moved beside him, snuggling into his side. He didn't dare too look, but he knew. Slowly, the previous night came back into his mind.
He remembered both of them stumbling into the building lobby, barely able to keep decent. Only to become not decent at all once they were in the lift. He remembered her laughing at the idea of getting caught by her old, hateful neighbour; while he couldn't keep his mind off her hand doing indicible things.
Just the thought of it…
He sat on the edge of the bed.
What was he supposed to do now? He was not ready for this, he had not been ready to meet her on that platform.
She was coming back, he was leaving. He had been unable to say no when she had insisted on having a drink at the station buffet. She had pointed out that he could always take the next train, with a mischievous smile. The same smile he had never been able to resist.
He stood up and wandered around the flat, putting on his boxers once he had found them in the kitchen, looking at her pictures all over the place. Her and her siblings, her brother now almost eighteen or close to it. All of their friends smiling and being silly. Pictures of all the big events he had missed because he lived to far away and was too busy, or so he said… He could have made the effort to go to Marius and Cosette's wedding, or Grantaire and Jehan's.
He would've if he had been able to handle seeing her again, but nobody could have understand that. Understand that he had been in love with her since… Always. It was love at first sight. Like Marius and Cosette, except that he had been able to keep it quiet. Maybe too quiet, even Combeferre didn't know anything. And he was his bestfriend!
When they were comfortably installed in a discreet booth of the buffet, they had talked about all of them. From Cosette and Marius' children ; a girl and a boy, how very perfect of them. To Courfeyrac being a successful lawyer and getting well on with his freshly divorced clients. They talked about how Combeferre moved away as well, working with the Médecins sans Frontières, and how he sent news regularly that she shared at school with her pupils. She had talked with passion about her work, how she could get them some of the help that neither her or her siblings had got.
He had just kept listening to her, mesmerized by her voice, her smile, those dimples and bright eyes. He was even getting distracted by her hands moving. They were moving and moving, dancing even.
His own life was just constant work, and unless he stopped for one second to think about the friends he had left at home, he was perfectly happy. Why did he miss them so much ? They were always so boisterous. All. The. Time. And at work everybody was so efficient, work was done so easily.
No way he could accomplish what he had done –which was only the beginning– if he'd come back here. And it was impossible for Éponine to leave, she was clearly very happy with her life here... would she abandon her class and friends for him? Not to mention Gavroche wasn't out of school yet.
And even if the logistics weren't so complicated, would she really want to share his life? He knew for a fact that he wasn't easy to live with. He was always working, if not at his job for the UN then for his many charities. He was never at home, only sleeping four hours a night. What if she wanted children?
He froze for a second and fell on the couch.
Just a night and he was already thinking about children?!
He knew that she had been in love with Marius, he was the who introduced her to the group. He wasn't even certain that she was even over the big, absent-minded clot. Courfeyrac's weekly gossipy email never mentionned her having some significant other, and she was too beautiful, smart and perfect to not catch men's attention! This could only mean one thing; that she was still in love with the idiot.
So, why had she kissed him when they had come back to the platform to take the last train of the day?
They were both standing there, the tram already there but neither of them could move. Both staring at each other awkwardly, as if there was a string between both their souls and one step in the other direction would have killed them both. He had been looking for the words to say, already turning his back to her, when she put her hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to face her and kissed him with all her soul. It was the most overwhelming feeling he had ever felt. Never in all his years had he thought that those feelings would be that strong. Nothing, nothing at all, and certainly not those few drunken experiences he had had in school could have compared to that. When she whispered, panting, about her flat not being far away and Gavroche being at Courfeyrac's, he didn't think twice. He didn't even think at all.
This was enough! He had to stay reasonable and focus! People needed him, he had lost far too much time with all of this nonsense! He stood up and gathered his clothes from all over the flat.
As he entered the room his glance immediately fell on her. She was sleeping on her stomach, the sheet barely hiding what it should. He sat on the bed, following the curves of her body with his fingers, not daring to touch her and the memories of the night rushed back to him.
Her skin that smelled like a summer day in his parents' garden... the small of her back where all he wanted was to do was put his head there and sleep her for the rest of the eternity... Could he leave without a word?
After all, it wouldn't be too surprising. He was known to be made of marble, a heartless statue. And if that wasn't enough, it would give her a good reason to hate him.
Wow! That was very brave! Maybe it was another good reason to leave and forget her. She made him –the 'Fearless Leader', as Courfreyrac loved to call him– the biggest coward. How could he carry on with this if he wasn't himself anymore!
She was already driving him crazy, running was the best option. A hard blow, no doubt, but she'll get over it. She was the strongest human being he'd ever known. He, however, wouldn't be able to deal with a break up after weeks… Months? Or –let's go crazy!– years of relationship. Plus, she would hate him forever, irremediably, for this.
No. As hard as it was, this was the best option. That weight on his chest started to disappear.
He was resolved.
He started to dress.
Suddenly, as he was leaning over to slip on his socks, an arm lazily encircled his waist.
No!
The warmth was parasiting his mind. The hand was now on his stomach, the pressure becoming more insistant, trying to make him lay down.
A hoarse voice spoke, "Stay. It's too early to go back to life."
"No, I have to go."
Oh, this was hard!
He felt the arm slide back, the warmth was now burning him. He stopped for a moment, closing his eyes. This was the grown-up's choice. Why was it so hard? It was a good thing she wasn't a morning person; it would have been much harder to convince her at her best.
He quickly got dressed, while she put on some pyjamas. She offered him something to eat, at least a coffee, she stated, the journey home would be long.
He refused.
He was at the door, his suitcase in one hand and his coat in the other, she asked, "Will I see you soon?"
He simply answered, "I don't think so."
And those magnificent bright eyes went dark, the darkest black he'd ever seen, just as he had planned.
"Well, good bye. And good luck." And she closed the door.