I remember the first time I kissed Eponine Thenardier.
It was cold, like the iconic winter day but there was no snow. There was only rain. Marius was blabbing on about Cosette. Grantaire was drinking a bottle of liquor. Jehan was talking about whatever with Courfeyrac. Marius stepped forward, looking rather handsome. And Eponine was there, just standing in the corner. Marius turned. "Have you met Cosette yet? Have you talked?" She winced and stepped back.
"No."
"I'll organise something. In the village."
"And I'll be the third wheel, hey. Whatever shall I do without you to talk to?" Pontmercy thought she was joking. He didn't know Eponine. Eponine hadn't told him anything. Subconsciously, I had started edging closer to their conversation. Eponine turned her face and she smiled. "Hello, Enjolras."
"Bonjour, Mademoiselle." Eponine wasn't pretty in the sense. She was skinny. Her teeth were slightly dark. Her eyes were sharp and seemed to discourage most people. Her dark brown hair flowed like a waterfall down her back. Eponine coughed. "What have you and Marius been talking about?" I asked.
"Cosette. As usual." Eponine's eyes darkened for a flash. It wreaked havoc with my heart.
Eponine already knew all about Cosette. She had known her for a lot of her childhood. She knew all about her. She didn't need Pontmercy's help. He didn't know that.
"Cosette, the Butterfly. The one who lights up my life." His blabbering was suddenly too much. His cheerfulness was usually a breath away from the real world. Not this time.
"SHUT THE HELL UP, PONTMERCY! ARE YOU TOTALLY AND UTTERLY BLIND?! Have you ever taken a moment to look closely at Eponine? Seen the way she looks at you? Some friend you are." I could feel the pinpricks of silence.
Eponine's eyes were trained on mine. I felt anger at myself. I was usually so cool. And it'd chosen this moment to blow. Eponine stood there for a moment, looking like one of those baby spiders that blow away on the wind. And then she turned and ran, her sobs echoing up the stairs. I stood there, lost. Marius was stricken.
"She… feels that way?" His voice was so hurt and I felt an emotional dagger squeezing through my gut. Guilt coursed through my body. I could only lie.
"No. I wasn't thinking." I was fumbling nervously with my hands. Ha! Me, nervous, the fearless revolutionary. Grantaire hobbled over.
"There's no use trying to lie to cover things up, Enjolras. Do you think you're the only one who knows?"
"She told you?" I asked, feeling surprise ignite in my eyes.
"No. But anyone can see it. Except Pontmercy."
I groaned, and started to walk down the steps. "I'm going home."
That was another lie. I had to find Eponine. I walked out of the café. She wouldn't be at home. It was too dangerous there. A beggar came up to me. "A franc to spare?" he asked. His name was Grauper. One eye was closed, due to an accident when he was in his twenties.
I fished a franc from my pocket. "Only if you tell me one thing."
"Anything."
"Have you seen a girl come past in the last five minutes?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"Did you get a good look at her?"
"Yes. Brown hair brown eyes. Crying."
"Where did she go?"
"She was headed for the bar La Ferte'." Grantaire often went there. And I'd been there with him before. I handed Grauper the franc and ran in the direction of the bar. The bar came into view. Its brown door was tattered. It didn't look like a place Eponine would go. I reached forward and twisted the knob. I walked inside. There was the shout of voices. Men voices. I felt panic inside me and I walked faster. Soon I was in the bar. Sure enough, Eponine was there, sitting on a stool, laughing. She took a swig of beer. Her dark hair dangled around her body, matted. Her face was slightly swollen.
"For the Monarchy!" laughed a burly man.
"No way!" replied a younger man.
"Yes."
"Never."
"Yes," repeated the Monarchist. My breath caught as the monarchist walked over and shoved the Republican. The young man fell from his stool. He stumbled to his feet again, eyes flashing.
"You never touch me again." He walked back over and punched the man in the eye. Soon they were fighting. Eponine had gotten to her feet when the monarchist grabbed a stool and snapped off one of its legs. He threw it at the man, but his throw was maimed by his drunkenness. I watched in horror as the leg hit Eponine across the eyebrow. She fell to the ground, knocked unconscious. I stepped forward.
As I did that, The Republican shoved the Monarchist. The Monarchist was still holding a shattered piece of glass. He stumbled past me and the shard skimmed my cheek. I grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around so he was stumbling back towards the other end of the room.
My eyes flashed in anger. "YOU DO NOT FREAKING TOUCH HER AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME?!" My voice was loud, louder than the brawling drunks. I grabbed a beer bottle and walked towards the Monarchist. "YOU DO NOT TOUCH HER."
The Monarchist wavered at the sight of the bottle in my fist. "Whoa, calm down."
"No."
The Enjolras who never showed emotion, was here, angry again.
The Monarchist and the Republican were now standing side by side, wondering who would take the blow. Then The Monarchist ran at me and as I raised the bottle, slipped around me and went out into the night. I put the bottle back on the bench and I bent over Eponine. There was already bruising on her forehead. I slipped my arms around her broken body and turned, leaving the bar with her in my arms.
I was moving soon, so there wasn't a couch for me to sleep on, like the time when she passed out from drunkenness, and she slept in my bed. I rested her tiny, fragile body against the covers. Her dark hair spread against the covers. We'd have to share. I gritted my teeth and got into my undergarments. "Enjolras?" asked a tiny voice.
I turned around and saw Eponine watching me, her dark hair looking magical in the light. I smiled. "There's some clothes in the corner that you could use as pajamas."
Soon we were both under the covers. I wasn't facing her, and I tried to distract myself from her sobs. "Eponine? Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yes." I turned over and faced her.
"I just wish I didn't love him. He's so blind and I hate it and I hate all of this." She pulled her arms up and buried her face in them. I reached out for a moment and my hand hovered above her head before I outstretched my fingers and stroked them through her hair. She turned over, surprising me, and wrapped her arms around me like I was her rock. With a minute of hesitation, I wrapped my arms around her neck. I looked down and pressed my lips to hers. I pulled back and she looked at me. Her eyes were wide. She was so nervous, looking back with those large, dark eyes. She bit her lip, looking up at me. So scared. Then I kissed her again. She reached her arms so that her fingers were embedded in my curls. She arched her body, curling into me. My fingers brushed against her pale cheek. She closed her eyes. Her breathing was slowing, relaxing. I closed my eyes, treasuring my Eponine. "Don't hurt me," she squeaked.
"Never," I said, my lips still pressed to hers.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me."
"Okay."
I knew that moment, I would always love Mademoiselle Eponine Thenardier. Even if I never got to tell her.